“The doctors say they can’t do anything for him,” Mum mutters, stabbing a string bean with her fork. “Just medication and rest. Pills and waiting. I’m sick of it.” Her hand shakes, and she lays down her fork.
Tamsen talks around her mouthful of steak. “There’s that Swiss heart specialist arriving next week. She might be able to help Dad.”
“Don’t speak with your mouth full, darling,” Mum says absent-mindedly.
Mum probably doesn’t want to pin her hopes on anyone. She was full of hope after the revolution, but even the best medical care in Paravel hasn’t been able to help Dad.
“What we’ve all got to do is see that this house remains peaceful and that we don’t put any stress on your father. No loud music. No fights. No upsetting your father in any way. Be good girls, please.”
I fidget with my napkin in my lap, wondering whether now’s the best time to bring up what’s been on my mind. It never seems to be a good time. “Mum, seeing as Dad’s gone to bed, I was hoping we could talk about Briar. There must be something we can do to help her.”
She picks up her knife and fork. “We’ve already talked about your cousin. There’s nothing more to say.”
“But she’s still in jail and she hasn’t even been charged with a crime. It’s not right.”
“Briar chose to get mixed up with questionable people out of petty revenge against the family. She made her bed, now she has to lie in it.”
“That’s not fair! Briar wants Paravel to be a safe place for everyone, not just for the First Families.”
“There was a revolution three months ago. Things take time to sort themselves out.” She gives me a sharp look. “I’m regretting letting you go on being her friend. She’s filled your head with all sorts of nonsense.”
“Stop treating me like a three-year-old. I’m able to form my own opinions.”
Mum glances at the door and then back at me, her expression ferocious. “Young lady, I told you no fighting. Keep your voice down.”
Across the table, Tamsen is gazing at me with a mixture of exasperation and pity. “You’re not going to get your way, so just leave it. What’s going on with you and that bodyguard guy?”
“Head of Security,” I mutter. “And there’s nothing going on. It was just dinner, and we didn’t even get to eat.”
“Is he taking you on another date?” Tamsen asks.
No, he’ll probably just corner me somewhere semi-secluded and do something devastating to my body. “Have you got everything you need for school yet?”
Tamsen’s about to start her final year of high school at the new King’s College by the Royal Gardens.
Pretending she didn’t hear me, Tamsen picks up a piece of asparagus with her fingers. “I liked him. He was better looking than the raggedy students you used to date. Better looking than most of the men at Court, too.”
“We have very handsome young men at Court,” Mum says. “All the King’s Guard are good-looking men.”
Tamsen wrinkles her nose. “And their personalities are being drilled out of them by the Archduke. Mr. Rasmussen is all rugged and sexy, like Lady Aubrey’s fiancé.”
“That’s enough, Tamsen.”
For once, I agree with Mum.
Upstairs in my bedroom, I check my phone as I’m brushing my teeth. It’s a message from an unknown number.
Stay home where it’s safe. Do as you’re told.
Jakob. I bite down on my toothbrush and type angrily back, No. I’ve got research to do.
Then you leave me no choice.
My eyes narrow and I wait for a follow-up message, but nothing comes through. What do you mean? What are you going to do?
There’s no reply, and I go to bed feeling uneasy.
In the morning, nothing’s happened, so I put my notebook and laptop into my handbag and head off in the direction of the National Library. It opened only recently, so I don’t know how well-organized the books and catalogues will be, but it will be a quiet place to gather my thoughts if nothing else.
It’s a gray, damp morning, but it feels good to be out of the house and on my own. Leaves crunch underfoot as I make my way past houses, cross a busy road, and head into another neighborhood. Ivera is changing rapidly, and I turn my head to gaze at a theater that’s being refurbished after many years of neglect. Out of the corner of my eye, I see someone following behind me. A man in a long black coat.
A current shoots down my spine. My gut tells me that the man in the black coat isn’t strolling. He’s following me.
So, this is what Jakob meant about having no choice.
There’s a row of shops up ahead. A bookshop. A café. A florist. There’s a narrow stone arch leading between the café and the florist. I slow down and gaze at the flowers in the window of the shop. As I draw level with the stone arch, I nip smartly through it and break into a run.