I ate it, every bit of the fruit that I could get. While I did, Trina worked at my hair, piling it on my head and using curling tongs for the loose ends. If she got it too hot and burned my hair, I'd have a second reason to see her hanged.
"What do you know about Sir Basil?" she asked.
I'd have ignored her, except that we needed something to talk about while she did my hair. Basil seemed like a safer topic than most others. "He's from Reddengrad. Lord Endrick ordered a marriage between us years ago, but my mother protested because both of us were still too young. After she died, I told Lord Endrick I refused to go along with his plans. That's the real reason I was sent away. It never had anything to do with the kidnapping."
"So your father thinks you've agreed to the marriage?"
"It doesn't matter what he thinks." I shrugged with indifference. "In three more days, I'll have betrayed my kingdom. After that, I'll never be able to come back home. Basil wouldn't marry me then, even if I begged him to."
She finished pressing another curl, letting it fall against my cheek. "You could've let me take that whipping earlier. If our positions were reversed, that's what I would've done. I know he's your father, so you won't want to hear what I have to say, but it's the truth: He's evil, Kestra, as bad as Lord Endrick."
"Don't say that."
Not because it was a lie, but because I feared it might be true. Now that I was home, the evidence of her words surrounded me.
"I understand how you feel," Trina said. "More than you might think."
"No, you don't."
"You don't fit in here. We haven't been at Woodcourt for a day yet and I can see that."
"Please stop talking." I couldn't listen to her any longer.
"I never belonged anywhere either. Not until I joined the Coracks."
Rather than answer her, which would have implied that I cared, I closed my eyes as she finished with my hair and the final details on my dress. It was still e
arly for the supper, so I said, "Leave me alone now."
"Either Simon or I must be with you at all times."
"That's not possible and you know it," I snapped. "Besides, you need to give Simon a message. You're expected to present yourselves to Gerald and give an accounting of any weapons you've brought into Woodcourt. If you delay any longer, it will arouse suspicions. But you might be searched, so don't bring anything else."
Such as his satchel.
That seemed to make sense to Trina, who hurried out the door. What I had said was true enough--Gerald would eventually ask for an accounting from these new servants. And that fact was very convenient for me.
Immediately after she left, I dug into a chest of stockings, tying one around my right thigh as another garter. I didn't have a weapon for it yet, but I would, soon.
Shortly after that, I left my room, following in the direction Trina would have gone. From a hiding place behind one of the carved stone pillars of Woodcourt, I spotted her talking to Simon in the stables. He grabbed his satchel, but she put her hand over his and said something, likely my warning about him being searched. He set it down again, surveyed the area, and then walked with her directly toward the spot where I was hidden. I had to counter their movements around the wide pillar, which was a trick because I didn't want my skirts to rustle or to flare out from behind the pillar, but it worked. They didn't see me.
"I don't trust this Gerald Bones," Simon muttered to Trina as they walked past. "He looks at me with suspicion."
"He serves the Dallisors, and they serve Endrick," Trina said. "Of course we don't trust him."
Then they were past. I made certain they had gone, and hurried over to Simon's satchel. There wasn't much time.
He had left his sword here with his horse, covered with a saddle blanket. Gerald would have noticed it when we arrived. He would wonder why Simon had neglected to bring it for inspection, especially if he was supposed to be a protector. But Simon would have to explain that. I couldn't do it for him.
I dug inside the satchel. Simon had a few silver coins that might buy him a day or two's worth of meals, a heavy gold ring he'd probably stolen, and a roll of fabric that could be used for bandages, or to bind hands, or for the gag Trina had wanted to use on me. He was also carrying a bound sketchbook and a lead pencil. A quick scan of his drawings impressed me, though most were only abstracts of an eye or hand, nothing to tell me who had inspired the sketches. They were beautiful, though, a part of Simon I had not expected. In a different life, he might have been an artist, not an insurgent. I found nothing in the pages or in the satchel to identify him as a Corack, nor any means of contacting Tenger. Since I knew Trina carried nothing of her own, this was all they would have brought with them. It was true, their lives were entirely dependent upon me keeping my agreement, just as Celia's and Darrow's were.
But none of this was what I'd come to search for. That item was at the very bottom of Simon's satchel. It was the sack the Banished had brought to the inn, an item so small that I'd have missed it unless I'd been deliberately hunting for it. Inside the pouch was a silver key, too delicate for a door or even the lock on a set of manacles. I knew Woodcourt well and couldn't think of a single thing this key might be used for. More importantly, I couldn't think of any reason the Banished would want me to have it.
I briefly recalled Thorne's words to Trina last night, that the Halderians were coming for me again. Let them try. I was not the cowering little girl I'd been three years ago. If I could turn the tables on the Coracks, I could hold my own against the Banished too. And I would begin by figuring out the purpose for this key.
I folded the key and its sack inside my skirts as I hurried back to my room. There I deposited them behind a loose wall panel in one corner. That cavity used to hide personal treasures and candies, relatively innocent things I didn't want to explain to my parents. Now it hid something that I suspected people had risked their lives to protect.
I wasn't alone much longer before Trina returned to my room. Her smile was so fake it might have been painted on. "Were you here the whole time I was gone?"