“Grab a bow!” she whispered urgently. “Look as if you’re practicing!”
Paxton moved swiftly across the room, snatching a practice bow from the wall and facing a target. Aerity grasped the silks and wound her feet quickly, climbing a few feet in theair. The door creaked open, and she looked to see one of the higher-ranking night guards standing there. His eyes rounded as he stepped into the room.
“Princess Aerity! Are you . . . ?” His eyes moved to Paxton and his whole demeanor hardened. “How dare you close yourself in a room with the princess, hunter?”
Paxton hung the bow back on the wall before turning. “I assure you, sir, Her Highness has not been compromised in any way.”
“This is highly inappropriate!” The guard appeared enraged on her behalf. Aerity quickly climbed down and moved forward.
“Mister Seabolt has done nothing wrong. I invited him in to practice—”
“Princess, with all due respect”—the guard lowered his voice—“the door wasclosed.”
“Was it?” she said, feigning ignorance, waving a hand as if it were nothing. “The jamb must have come loose. I didn’t even notice.”
The guard glanced at Paxton, scowling. The hunter’s face remained void of guilt or regret.
“Look.” Aerity folded her hands in front of herself, and her voice took on a diplomatic tone. “The hunter couldn’t sleep. Neither could I. I should have gone to the library and let him have this room, but I suppose I’m tired and not thinking straight. I know how this appears, but I assure you it was quite innocent. And now I’ll be returning to my chambers.”She gave a yawn for good measure, covering her mouth.
The guard’s face softened a fraction. “That’s probably best, Your Highness. I shall accompany you.”
She nearly told him not to bother, but a true wave of fatigue hit her and she nodded.
The guard cast a pointed look at Paxton that seemed to say,Get back where you belong.Paxton, face still blank, slid his gaze to Aerity one last time. She could have sworn she saw gratitude in his eyes mingling with amusement on his lips before he moved to walk ahead of them from the room.
Aerity silently followed, watching Paxton’s strong back and the strides of his long legs as he entered High Hall for the remainder of the night. When she climbed back into bed and stilled, her scalp felt sensitive with the memory of his gentle tug. What would he have said and done next if they hadn’t been interrupted? Aerity felt a bout of frustration rise; she was no closer to solving the mystery of Paxton Seabolt. In fact, his questioning words echoed through her mind long after the thunder ceased to roll.
Caitrin’s mouth was set in a straight line of worry the next morning as she carried Aerity’s freshly ironed dresses into the princess’s chambers. Aerity sat up in bed, groggy from tossing and turning after her late-night encounter with Paxton.
“What’s wrong?” she asked her maid. Then her stomach clenched. “Did the beast attack?”
“No, Your Highness.” Caitrin shook her head. “It’s thepoor Zandalee women. When a maid went to their chambers this morning, she found them all ill with fevers.”
Aerity leaped from the bed, grabbed her beaded shawl, and threw it around her shoulders. “I’ve got to tell Mrs. Rathbrook!”
“She’s already been called,” Caitrin assured her.
“Good.” She relaxed a fraction. “I want to check on them.”
“Come, let me help you dress first, my lady,” Caitrin called, but Aerity left her, hurrying to the guest quarters barefoot.
She halted at the corner when she saw her mother standing there, conversing with a guard at the door. They both looked at her, from her nightgown down to her feet, and her mother’s mouth pinched with displeasure. Aerity took a deep breath and moved forward.
“Is anyone else sick?” Aerity asked, coming to a stop before them.
“No, thank the seas,” the queen said. “The Lochlan hunters took the Zandalee through a town yesterday where they came in contact with commoners. We believe that is how they contracted the fever.”
Aerity ducked her head into the darkened room. Mrs. Rathbrook was working over Zandora, who lay still on the four-poster bed. She wiped her forehead gingerly, and applied ointment to her lips. The other two huntresses were curled up on cots, shivering. Aerity moved forward.
“You can’t go in there, Princess,” warned the guard.
Aerity felt a prickle of frustration. She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the doorframe. Pain pulsed in her chest. An awful, heavy feeling had taken up residence there over the past several weeks from stress. She looked into the room again and Mrs. Rathbrook saw her. The woman bustled over.
“Don’t worry yourself, Princess. They’re not so far gone that they can’t be healed. Illnesses such as this are different from injuries, though. It takes more time to filter magic through the blood. They won’t be happy with me, but I’ve given them sleeping draughts. If they try to rise without enough rest, the disease can return even stronger. I suggest they do not hunt tonight.”
Aerity nodded, and the woman went back into the darkened room.
The queen gently pulled Aerity’s hair over her shoulder. “She’s right, dear girl. You shouldn’t worry yourself. Now go back to your room and make yourself presentable.”
