Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 96695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
At the very least, he had to tell Everand the truth. Everand trusted him, and he couldn’t lie to him. Not anymore. And maybe the prince would know how best to deal with the queen.
Hugo tried to stay awake and help the stranger as he worked, but as the day wore on, he grew sleepy. The last few days had been so frantic and crazy. Now he felt only relief that he had taken a good step forward. Long after the sun had set, Hugo sat against the wall and drifted off to sleep as the stranger worked.
Sixteen
Hugo woke to the sound of the metal bolt sliding out of its housing. He scrubbed his eyes and face. When he blinked to clear his vision, he found he was alone in his little cell. The straw was gone, and so was his friend, but the stranger had left behind a basket of gold thread. He’d attempted to ask the man several times what his name was or where he was from, but he’d either dodged or ignored his questions as he worked.
It was odd that the stranger kept appearing at the palace. How could he move so easily without the notice of the servants and guards? Unless he was a guest of sorts. But why did he keep helping Hugo? None of it made any sense.
But a small inkling of an idea was growing in the back of his mind. It seemed like a long shot of a guess, but pieces of information were starting to fit into place.
Just like his first time in the cell, a guard walked in and grunted at the overflowing basket of gold thread.
“The queen will be very pleased,” the guard stated as he picked up the basket while Hugo climbed to his feet. The guard turned and marched out of the room.
Hugo followed him, but as he turned down the hall, a soft feminine noise caught his attention. He jerked to his left to find the same maid who’d helped him on his last visit standing off to the side with a bright smile.
“Miss Florence,” he greeted with a bow of his head. “It’s good to see you again.”
“It’s good to see you too, Mr. Baker. If you would come with me, I can show you to a room where you can rest and bathe.” She lifted a hand, motioned in the opposite direction of where the guard was heading.
“But I need to speak to the queen.” He gazed at the guard as he disappeared around a corner, leaving the hallway empty.
“Unfortunately, Her Majesty is quite busy today and doesn’t have time in her schedule to meet with you.”
Hugo frowned. How was he going to convince the queen that he couldn’t continue this charade for another moment, even if it meant forfeiting his life?
Florence edged closer and added in a whisper, “His Highness stated he is looking forward to seeing you.”
Hugo’s head snapped up so fast, the resulting breeze stirred some of Florence’s hair. “Everand—I mean Prince Everand—wishes to see me?”
A giggle slipped out, and Florence covered her mouth with her hand. “Very much. However, he wishes to give you a chance to refresh yourself and doesn’t plan to call on you until this afternoon.”
Heat burned Hugo’s cheeks, but he didn’t care. He was going to see Everand. At the very least, he could explain to him about the stupid confusion over his magic. Maybe he could convince Everand to help him see the queen and plead his case. Assuming Everand didn’t hate him for his deception.
With a nod, Hugo followed Florence through the long, winding corridors to a different wing of the palace. This one was far more opulent and decadent than the one where he’d briefly stayed on his last visit. The colors were all deeper and richer shades of brown and green. There were swords and stuffed animal heads mounted on the walls. The furniture shifted from white and delicate to dark wood and sturdy.
“This is the prince’s wing,” Florence confided in a low voice.
Hugo’s heart tripped. This was putting him much closer to Ev. “Prince Everand’s wing? It was decorated like this for him?”
Florence shook her head. “No, actually it was King Hubert who had it decorated like this. He and his younger brother, Prince Crispin, lived in these rooms. They were great huntsmen in their youth, or so I was told. They had the halls and rooms all decorated to their tastes. Prince Everand has never shown any interest in changing them.”
Hugo nodded. It was rare for anyone to mention the king’s brother. He’d died when he was about seventeen years old because of a sudden and unexpected illness.
Down the hall, another woman in a maid uniform stood off to the side, seeming to halfheartedly watch as a silver watering can flitted from one potted plant to another, giving each a hearty drink. At the sound of their approaching footsteps, she squeaked and jumped, snatching up the watering can as it was floating off toward another plant. Clutching the receptacle to her chest, she bobbed in a curtsy and mumbled an apology.