Nemus shook his head. “I have no control over what the Eye shows me, but there have been no visions of you since you left, by any seers, that I’m aware of. Perhaps there’s a shield over you, like seers have, a shield that doesn’t allow the Eye to see you or know where you are. I imagine this relates to your memory loss.”
“Who could have put this shield there? Another seer?”
Nemus shook his head. “I don’t know who would have that kind of power.”
Chapter fourteen
Catherine led them back through the streets toward the tunnels. Norah followed blindly, her mind racing. The vision of her councilmen would haunt her. And this shield—whatever blocked her from being seen in visions—who had put it there? Nemus had said he didn’t know who would have that kind of power. If she could figure out how to remove it, would it bring her memories back?
They made their way quickly through the tunnels in the dark. Norah was amazed Catherine could remember the way. “How do you know all these passages?” she asked.
“I’ve been here a long time, my dear. And I’ve had many secrets to keep.” They turned down another hall, and Catherine stopped. She felt the pockets of her gown.
“What is it?”
“Gods,” Catherine muttered. “My key, the one for my own chamber. I’ve left it at Nemus’s.”
“Oh, that’s all right, we can go back.”
“No, no. I’ll go. If you follow this walk two halls down, you’ll see the stair on the right to your room.”
“Wait.” Absolutely not. No. No. “I can’t go by myself.”
“Oh, Norah, you’ll be fine. I can’t go back out through your chamber, anyway. The guard has already seen me leave. They think you’re alone inside. Be sure to straighten the rug on the top after. I don’t want anyone finding that door.”
“What about me finding the door?” Walking through dark tunnels wasn’t what she wanted to be doing. At all.
“Don’t be dramatic. As I said, you’re perfectly fine. No one knows of these tunnels but me.” But she lingered for a moment. “I’m sorry about tonight, Norah,” she said softly. “I really thought this would work.”
Norah had hoped it would work too. She shrugged. “We’ll keep trying.”
Catherine patted her on the arm. “That we will. I’ll see you in the morning, my dear.”
With that, Catherine turned and disappeared into the darkness, leaving Norah holding the small lantern. She sighed and then turned down the tunnel toward her room.
It was difficult to see, even with the lantern, which barely lit the space in front of her. Fear rippled through her. Not from the dark—she wasn’t afraid of the dark. She feared failure, disappointing those who cared about her and letting down her people and her kingdom. How could she be queen if she knew nothing? How could she make good decisions for her people when she didn’t understand? And how could she fight an enemy she didn’t know, especially an enemy like the one she saw tonight?
She paused when she noticed a hall, then cursed under her breath. She hadn’t been paying attention. Did she already pass one, or was this the first? Surely she would have noticed if one had come up sooner. She kept going.
When she came to another hall, she turned and took it down to the end, where she found the stairwell. Finally. She held the rail as she climbed the stairs, but when she got to the top, the door wasn’t above her head as before. It stood in front of her. She was at the wrong door.
Norah cursed under her breath. Maybe if she went back one hall? But what if she had passed two? She had walked quite a way while distracted by her thoughts. She glanced at the lantern. The candlewick was near its end. What she didn’t want to do was get lost looking for a secret door with no lantern at all. She pursed her lips. Where was she now?
Her stomach knotted at the thought of returning to her chamber from the outside—where Titus stood. She supposed it wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. It would be just like old times?
She turned the knob to the door as quietly as she could. It opened with no resistance, and she peeked through. A breath of relief escaped her. An empty room. She ducked out of what appeared to be a closet on the outside, then closed the door behind her. Everything was fine—she’d just figure out where she was and make her way back to her chamber.
Norah slipped out into the hall, appreciating the quiet of her silk shoes. It was late evening now, and she wasn’t expecting anyone about, but she’d rather make it back to her chamber without anyone seeing her. There would be less to explain.
Light spilled out from a room ahead, and she slowed. She wasn’t sure what room it was; she hadn’t been in this hall before. When she reached the open door, she sidled along the edge of the frame, leaning forward just enough to peek inside. It was a study. Her heart beat faster.
Alexander sat at his desk, reading through several documents. The candle to his right dropped a trail of wax down its side—he’d been there for a while. He sighed as he put one parchment down and then picked up another.
She couldn’t help herself. “What are you working on?” she asked.
He looked up in surprise, and a hint of a smile came to his lips. He rose from his chair. As his mind seemed to put things together, his brow creased. “Where did you come from?” he asked.
She stepped inside the study and shrugged. “Just walking.”
His eyes ran over her cloak. “Outside?”
Hammel’s hell. “Just around the castle. I… was cold.” She bit her lip. That definitely sounded like a lie.
Alexander raised a brow.
She drew closer, and his eyes followed. She took a seat on the wingback chair in front of the desk, and he slowly sat back down. His face had a warm familiarity, and she struggled to separate whether it was the comfort of their new friendship, or something more. She spied a biscuit and pear on a plate on the corner of the desk, and her stomach grumbled. She hadn’t eaten anything since Catherine had taken her to the seer. “Are you going to eat that?” she asked.
He glanced at the plate. “No. Are you hungry?” His brow dipped. “Have you not eaten?”
“I wasn’t hungry earlier, but I just realized I am a little now.” She grabbed the pear off the plate.
“I’ll get you some food. Don’t eat that. Adrian brought it hours ago.” He moved to stand.
“No, it’s all right,” she said quickly. “The pear’s fine.”
He sighed and gave a small smile. “I’ll have to make sure we do a better job taking care of our queen.”
His words sat uncomfortably in her ears. Queen. She swallowed. She had no business being queen.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “Have I said something?”
She turned the pear in her hands, brushing her fingers over the smooth skin of the fruit. She wanted to tell him about the visit to the traveler, about seeing the visions, but Catherine had said not to. “My grandmother says that the council will push for my coronation right away.” She drew her eyes back up, searching for confirmation.
He nodded. “It’s true.”
“How soon?”