Red Hood's Revenge (9 page)

The throne room was Danielle’s least favorite part of Whiteshore Palace. Standing here surrounded by such wealth and opulence still made her feel like an imposter.

Marble pillars framed a circular dais. Twin thrones sat at the top, each one carved of dark-stained oak and inlaid with gold and ivory. The back of the king’s throne was shaped to resemble a griffon. The queen’s was carved with a swan motif, the wings folded forward as though to embrace Beatrice.

From Danielle’s place beside the queen, she could make out every line in the swan’s feathers, each one carved with inhumanly fine detail. The queen sat stiffly, her back not quite touching the back of the chair. Beside her, King Theodore was whispering something to Chancellor Crombie, a sour old man with a wrinkled face and permanently ink-stained fingers. Crombie sat to the right of the dais, parchment and ink laid out on a wooden desk before him.

Armored guards stood to either side of the double doors at the far end of the throne room, their mail polished until it shone almost as brightly as Snow’s mirrors. Father Isaac waited to the left of the dais, silver crucifix clutched in both hands, his head bowed in magical prayer.

The room was otherwise abandoned. Imposing as the throne room could be, the emptiness made it worse. There would be no audience for this hearing. Only Chancellor Crombie was in attendance to document Charlotte’s sentencing.

Danielle straightened her belt, adjusting her sword. “Have we heard anything about Ambassador Trittibar?” she whispered.

“Tymalous will take care of him,” Beatrice assured her.

“I meant from Fairytown,” Danielle said. “Will they really exile him for saving Snow and Talia?”

“He violated the treaty.” Beatrice made no effort to hide her sadness. “Fairies are not known for ignoring the rules. Twisting them to meet their needs, yes. Something like this . . . no matter the circumstances, I’m afraid they’ve no choice.”

Theodore turned to Danielle. “Ambassador or no, Trittibar will always be welcome in this palace.”

“None of this is your fault,” Beatrice assured her.

“No?” Danielle glanced at the doors. “I’m the one who insisted we save Charlotte.”

“You made the right decision,” said Beatrice. “This was our best chance to stop Roudette.” The guards straightened, and Beatrice’s expression grew stern. “They’re here.”

Talia and Snow entered together, Charlotte hobbling between them. Two more guards followed close behind.

Charlotte’s wrists were shackled. Iron chain clinked loudly as she brushed her gown and picked at her hair, a halfhearted attempt at primping. She kept her head low, refusing to look at anyone.

Her appearance filled Danielle with sadness. Charlotte was a withered shadow of the woman she had once been. She was skinny enough to pass for a fairy, and unlike Talia and Snow, she had been given no time to prepare herself for court. Grime covered her face, almost hiding the scars by her eyes. The bandage on her foot was black with dirt and blood. Her gown was in tatters. An iron bracelet circled her wrist.

“She wasn’t wearing that bracelet when she first arrived,” Danielle whispered.

“It was made by Father Isaac to prevent her from trying to use magic.” Beatrice took Danielle’s hand. “Whatever happens, remember that your stepsister chose her own path. Her fate is her responsibility, not yours.”

King Theodore waited for Charlotte to reach the base of the dais. Charlotte knelt, as did her escort. Theodore beckoned them to rise. “How is Trittibar?”

“Resting,” said Snow. “The wolf’s teeth tore deep into the arm. He shouldn’t lose the limb, but it may never regain its full strength.”

Beatrice leaned forward. “What of your own injuries?”

“I’m fine.” Snow was paler than usual, even the color in her lips faded to a light pink. Judging from Beatrice’s frown, she could see through Snow’s facade as easily as Danielle did.

“Charlotte Moors.” King Theodore’s voice filled the throne room.

Charlotte cringed. “Your Majesty.”

She appeared . . . broken. Submissive, even. Whether from her years trapped in Fairytown or the knowledge that she was alone, Danielle couldn’t guess.

Theodore stood. “Two years ago, you conspired with your stepsister Stacia to kidnap Prince Armand of Lorindar. My son. You then attempted to murder Princess Whiteshore. Later, you tried again to kill the princess and her unborn child both.”

Charlotte began to cry, but said nothing.

“While in Fairytown, Princess Whiteshore spared your life, showing you mercy.” The king’s voice was stone, his face as hard as Danielle had ever seen. “She overstepped her bounds.”

Danielle bit back a protest. Even Snow and Talia looked surprised at his pronouncement.

“You committed treason against Lorindar,” Theodore said. “You entered my home, attacked my family, and stole my son. Do you deny these acts?”

“No.” Her voice was barely audible.

“In other circumstances, you would be put to death. After consideration, we have decided to give you one chance to save yourself, to earn exile rather than the gallows.” He glanced at Beatrice, making Danielle suspect the queen had been influential in that choice.

Charlotte looked up, hope and wariness on her face. “Anything, Your Majesty.”

Beatrice leaned forward. “Help us find Roudette. Tell us what happened to you and what role you were to play in her attempt to kill Talia.”

Charlotte sagged. “After Cinder—After Danielle and her friends freed Armand, I was left in the Duchess’ service. She kept me on as a slave. I was nothing, lower even than her goblins, given scraps for food, forced to sleep in—”

“In other words, you were treated as you once treated your stepsister,” Beatrice said.

“Yes.” Charlotte glanced at Danielle, then looked away, but not before Danielle saw something she had never imagined from her stepsister: shame.

“Go on.”

“A short time ago, the Duchess grew bored with me. She cast me out. One of her creatures led me as far as the queen’s labyrinth in exchange for—” Charlotte shook her head. “Please don’t make me tell you.”

Danielle imagined the greed of the fairies from her last journey to Fairytown, demanding her unborn child and worse. What had they taken from Charlotte? “We only care about Roudette.”

“Thank you.” Charlotte’s face twisted as though the words burned her mouth. “The little beast said if I could make my way through the labyrinth before sunrise, I would reach the hedge that borders Fairytown and be able to escape.”

“You survived the fairy queen’s labyrinth?” Snow asked.

Charlotte shook her head. “I ran until my legs lost their strength. Turns doubled back on themselves. Pathways ended without warning. I collapsed, unable to move another step, or so I thought. Then I heard the howling of the queen’s wolves. I dragged myself onward, eventually finding a passage that opened onto the chasm. Not the escape I had hoped for, but a quick leap to my death was better than facing the wolves. I tried to make myself jump, but in the end my fear was too great. I couldn’t do it. That was when Roudette found me.

“At first I thought she was the fairy queen herself, come to watch my death. Instead, Roudette dragged me from the edge, then turned to await the wolves. She . . . quieted them somehow, almost as if she were talking to them. Like my stepsister used to do with her vermin.”

Charlotte touched the scars on her face. “The wolves allowed us to pass. Roudette led us from the maze, the wolves following her. We soon reached the goblin encampment at the hedge. It was the goblins who recognized her, calling her by name. Until that moment I had no idea who she was. The goblins tried to flee. Some escaped. The rest fell to Roudette and the wolves. She left only one alive, forcing him to guide us through the hedge.”

Danielle closed her eyes, remembering her own journey through that hedge and the goblin who had helped them, though she had never been able to recall his name. She prayed he had been among those who escaped.

“Roudette’s cape is magical,” Snow said. “She used it to transform herself into a wolf. That must be how she controlled the queen’s animals.”

“I’ve already sent word to the guards to watch for wolves,” Talia added.

“Good.” Beatrice studied Charlotte for a long time before asking, “You and Roudette traveled together from Fairytown to Stone Grove. What can you tell us of her? How did she behave? What did she say to you?”

Charlotte’s chains clanked as she massaged her shoulder. “She wanted to know about Danielle. How she and her friends rescued Armand from the Duchess. Whether Danielle would truly want to save me, and if I thought she would bring her friends. After that, she barely spoke to me.”

Snow cleared her throat. “With Your Majesties’ permission?” She waited for the king’s nod, then said, “Roudette expected you to perform some task to help her. What was it?”

“I was supposed to identify Talia.”

“You’re lying.” Danielle studied her stepsister. Charlotte had never been one for subtlety or hiding her emotions, but two years in Fairytown had changed her. Growing up, Danielle had learned quickly to read her stepsisters’ moods, knowing when to carry out her chores in silence and when to avoid them at all costs.

This was different. Charlotte was scared but also resigned. The woman Danielle remembered would have been weeping or begging, or ranting against the injustice of it all. “Roudette fought Talia once before,” Danielle said. “She wouldn’t need your help in recognizing her.”

She stepped down from the dais, crossing the throne room to stand before her stepsister. Charlotte’s eyes were red and shadowed. She appeared ready to pass out from exhaustion, but her expression was
pleading
.

“What did they do to you?” Danielle whispered. Charlotte said nothing, not even watching as Danielle circled her. “Let us help you.”

“You can’t.” Charlotte wiped her nose on her sleeve, then hastily tugged the shoulder of her gown back into place.

If Danielle hadn’t been watching her stepsister so closely, she would have missed it. She reached out, and Charlotte tensed. Danielle grabbed Charlotte’s torn collar and pulled, exposing a faded strawberry mark on the skin. “Two years ago Stacia and the Duchess gave you this mark to prevent you from betraying them.”

“Yes,” said Charlotte.

“I remember that mark being smaller.”

Charlotte shivered, but said nothing more. If she had been bound by a fairy mark, she wouldn’t be able to speak of it. The penalties for breaking such a bond were limited only by the creativity of the one who cast it, and fairies were unmatched when it came to inventing cruel new torments.

“Isn’t that clever,” Snow said, moving closer to study the mark. She pressed her fingernail to the edge. “A second curse placed over the first to conceal it. I wonder if the first retains its magic.”

“Can you remove it?” asked Beatrice.

“The mark or the shoulder?”

Charlotte whimpered and backed away, keeping Danielle between herself and Snow.

“Relax,” said Snow. “Even if we cut off the shoulder, it wouldn’t solve anything. That mark is only the external sign of the curse flowing through your blood.” She beckoned for Father Isaac to approach. “What do you think? I’d want Trittibar’s help, of course.”

For the first time, Charlotte appeared hopeful. She reached for Danielle’s arm.

Talia’s heel slammed into Charlotte’s chest, knocking her to the floor.

“She wasn’t trying to hurt me.” Danielle crouched beside Charlotte, who was gasping for breath.

“Would you gamble your life on that?” Talia’s expression made it clear she would happily pound Charlotte into the floor if she so much as twitched.

The king rose. “Do what you can to remove the mark. If she’s cursed, we can trust nothing she says until that curse is broken.”

“Did Roudette ever say who hired her to kill me?” Talia hadn’t asked for leave to speak, but it was clear King Theodore tolerated such outbursts from Beatrice’s closest servants and companions. Chancellor Crombie’s scowl was the only apparent sign of disapproval.

Charlotte swallowed. “Yesterday afternoon. Roudette had just returned. There was fresh blood on her cape, and she was in a good mood. She even offered me food.” She turned away, hiding her face. “I offered to pay her whatever she wanted if she’d free me.”

“Pay her with what?” Danielle asked. She had to strain to hear Charlotte’s reply.

“I told her
you
would pay.” Charlotte steeled herself. “I told her you were soft, that you lacked the spine to turn your back on your stepsister, no matter what I had done.”

Snow coughed and turned away, but not before Danielle saw her smirk.

Queen Beatrice jabbed her staff against the floor. “Tell us what you learned from Roudette.”

“She was leaning over a hollowed stump,” said Charlotte. “She sprinkled something yellow inside. I can’t cast spells, but I can feel them sometimes. This felt like she was making a potion. She started speaking to the stump.”

Father Isaac turned to the king and queen. “It rained two nights ago. A hollow stump of stone would still hold water. She could have been using it as a scrying pool.”

Charlotte nodded eagerly. “I couldn’t understand the language. She kept saying ‘tav.’ ”

Talia moved closer. “Tiav?” she asked, stretching out the vowels.

“Yes.” Charlotte looked from Talia to Danielle. “What does it mean?”

“It’s Arathean,” said Talia. “It means ‘soon.’ What else did she say?”

Charlotte shook her head miserably. “How would I know?”

“Talia?” Danielle reached out, but Talia slapped her hand away.

The guards started forward, looking uncertain. Talia didn’t even appear to realize what she had done.

“No,” said Danielle, waving them back. “It’s all right.”

Talia punched a hand to her palm and took a deep breath. “Did Roudette ever say the name Lakhim?”