FEBRUARY 1812

Esther's dark blonde hair glowed yellow in the candlelit hotel room. Her blue eyes danced with the reflection of the light as she stared at the man buttoning his trousers at the foot of the bed she was in. Sweat glistened her skin, and she stretched back, thrusting her small perky breasts in the cold air.

"What does she have to say when you delivered the Belle?" she asked him.

He looked up, light brown hair damp against his forehead. A smile curled his lips, his brown eyes feasting on her naked form.

"She begged for my forgiveness, of course," he said.

She smiled. "Did you make sure she was dead? The Belle?"

He nodded, climbing on the bed and on her, casting a shadow over her. She spread her legs and reveled at the feel of rough fabric against her skin. She wanted him again. His hand gripped her hips. He wanted her again.

But she had to control herself. She had to control him. And so she ordered, "Pleasure me." When his hands went to his trousers, she sternly said, "No. None of that. With your hands."

"Whatever pleases you, Your Highness," he said, obliging her.

Her eyes rolled closed. Her hands tugged at the sheets.

"Why did you want her dead?" he asked against the throat.

Her hips buckled against his hand, lust consuming. But not entirely, because when she opened her eyes, it was as clear as her intentions to be pleasured and deny him of his. "Because I do not like being used and Jade used me for her own personal gain. She dared kill my cousin."

His mouth trailed down to her breast, his hand that of the gods. She wanted to tell him that, but no, she would not. Because then he would think he could control her. No, not her. She was the princess, and he was the servant.

"She is a great loss," he whispered in her ear, breath hot.

"But she is better off dead. She has served her purpose. She has found who I am looking for in Belcourt. And you have her in your hands."

"And then I found you," he said, biting her lower lip as he took her to the peak, then slowed, daring to deprive her of it. He chuckled when she scowled. Then he gave her release.

She was panting as he fell beside her. Then she rolled on top of him with a smile. "For finding me, I shall reward you." Her hands worked on his trousers. "And every time she takes you to bed, I will do the same. I will erase every trace of that bastard with my mouth. And in turn, you will be loyal to me and only to me."

He heaved and groaned.

He was a very good servant. Willing. Eager. She would groom him well, like she did Jade.

Now that Albert was dead, she had more time for games. Her brother should have never trusted his own guards. Or his sister, for that matter.

And her father's bastard would never know what was coming for her, Esther thought before she gave Tanner Macmier his reward.

☙✾❧

Arielle was fuming mad as she paced the drawing room.

Gabrielle watched her silently.

"She has been working with Esther. I should have known," she murmured to herself. She turned around and faced Gabrielle. "Tanner told me that the Circus is on their way to Reginald."

"What do you wish me to do, my lady?"

"Go with them, of course. Take two of the best Soldiers. Be careful and never be seen."

Gabrielle nodded. Arielle looked like she had not had a blink of sleep. "Perhaps you ought to take a rest, my lady. You do not look well."

"It is because of Jade's maids!" Arielle hissed. "They dare betray Belcourt for their insane mistress."

"And the High Priestess' decision?"

"The maid, the cook, and the carriage driver—all three of them shall have to be punished."

Gabrielle nodded. "Sinhold, my lady?"

"No!" cried Arielle. "Not after what happened with the schooner."

Gabrielle waited, but when the woman did not say more, she suggested, "We have another schooner for—"

"Sinhold is too easy a sentence," said Arielle. "They shall be poisoned."

"For how long?"

Arielle turned to throw Gabrielle an incredulous look, as if she ought to know by now. "Until they die. I'd rather witness them suffer here." She walked back to her wine and downed it. "Go and prepare for your mission, Gabrielle. And kill Reginald for Belcourt. We ought to at least be rid of one pest."

☙✾❧

Winter was fading away, and the wind moved east. The Witch, Vanessa Lyndon's ship, began its voyage to London with a marriage. The captain, her black hair flying around her, leaned back against the wooden railings, watching. One of his crew, an ordained clergyman with a heavy beard and bald head, towered over West Blackwood and his wife.

The crew chanted as West bent down and kissed Sasha in a fashion that would have otherwise been frowned upon should they have been wed on land and in the presence of high society. But on The Witch, they were free. The men did not care.

Rider looked on with Greene, then turned around when the couple seemed to have not gathered enough decency to find more privacy.

"Are you confident they will fair well?" Greene asked Rider, the two of them watching the distant land of Sutherland.

"Darcy, yes. Tanner, I cannot be certain."

Greene nodded. "If he fails again this time, I will put a dagger in Vanessa Lyndon's throat and force her to bring me home so I can kill him myself."

Rider did not answer. His eyes were on the ships that were behind them. He wondered which one contained the Soldiers from Belcourt.

☙✾❧

That night, West held Sasha in his arms. They left behind a brewing war to go to Reginald and take him back. He should not be celebrating, but he was.

"You always finished your letters with Yours, Darcy," he murmured on top of her head.

"Hmm?" she sleepily asked, her arm reflexively tightening aroud his waist, her bulging abdomen pressed against his.

"You did not have to, but you always did every time your letters were addressed to me," he continued with a small smile. "And you always begin with My Lord, not Your Grace, as should be correct. It is always My Lord."

She chuckled and leaned her sleepy head back to look at him. "Do not think too highly of yourself, darling. But yes, you are my lord."

He bent and softly planted his mouth on hers. "I will never tire of saying I love you, Sasha."

"I may tire hearing it," she said in jest.

He drew her closer. "Are you ecstatic for our adventure?"

"No, as a matter of fact, I feel a retch coming." She sat up in bed while he jumped to find a basin. Their entire cabin swayed as the ship hit a tide. "Oh, good Lord," Sasha groaned, reaching for the basin her husband brought her. His hand rubbed her back while she gagged into the big opening.

And he laughed. She scowled at him, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "What is so funny, husband?"

He laughed harder. "You calling me husband. And that I am spending the first night of our wedding watching you empty the contents of yours stomach. Are you quite done?" She nodded, and he walked away with the basin. When he came back, he handed her a glass of water.

Later, as they fell to sleep, he thought he would see her again in the morning. And the morning after that. And then after. And after.

☙✾❧

For days, she had tried to open her eyes, but they were too heavy.

And that morning, when she thought she would never wake from her nightmare, light blinded her as her lids finally gave in to her efforts.

She opened her mouth, but her throat was too dry.

She turned her head. A woman in a blue cloak jumped to her feet and left the room.

Soon, more people came.

And a purple cloak floated into the room toward her bed.

She looked beautiful, her hair gathered and swept over one shoulder.

She was smiling, too, but it was not kind.

"Good morning, Jade," said the Maiden. She knew who she was. Arielle.

The Maiden looked over her shoulder and everyone else in the room left.

"Your maids are dead, I am afraid," said Arielle, smile gentle as she tucked red tresses behind Jade's ear.

Jade moaned, wanting to speak. She tried to move her legs, but she could not. The pain in her midriff was intense. Her hands felt heavy, too. "You will live, fret not. We merely want you to understand Jade, darling, what it means to betray Belcourt. And what it feels to be betrayed by Esther." A tear rolled from her eye, not of sorrow, but of fury. A whimper escaped her dry lips. "I am sorry if you have ever felt ignored as a Belle," continued Arielle, smoothing Jade's hair. "We never meant for you to feel that way. It led you astray, did it not, darling?"

Jade's nostrils flared. Did this Maiden mean to poison her? In her condition? She would rather die now than suffer a slow death.

But the Maiden spoke again. "We cannot blame your selfishness on you. Your mind was poisoned by Esther. She killed her own brother, did she not? Of course, it is no surprise that she tried to do the same to you. You have been naïve, consumed by jealousy. But we shall change that. The High Priestess is willing to give you another chance, Jade. Because Belcourt is your home ever since you were a foundling. And we shall remain to be so."

Jade swallowed, her breathing shaking. Relief. And her eyes filled with tears.

Regret overwhelmed her as she remembered the first visit Esther gave her. She had been blinded by the princess' promises. She should not have been for she ought to have been content. Hot tears traced her cheeks. She longed for Trent, for his warmth and his embrace. But he was not here. He had left her dying in that chapel where they should have been wed.

She helped Esther kill the crown prince. She welcomed the Albert's royal guards when Esther sent them to her as a gift. They took turns with her in return for Esther's wishes. Animals, the lot of them. But Esther... the woman made her feel like a friend, a sister she never had.

And yet she did not even face Jade when she ordered for her death.

And all along, Belcourt, her home, innocent and unknowing, welcomed her.

She could not believe it. Belcourt forgave her for her sins.

Her lips trembled with renewed love.

She was redeemed.

☙✾❧

Ruby exited her villa and took an easy pace down the pavement. She often took walks the same as this one to visit her favorite shops or see friends. But that afternoon was different.

She had just gotten word that all three of Jade's servants died in the dungeon, having lost to the poison. And Jade, for what she had done, was in the Court of Libraries, alive and being cared for.

Why?

How?

What happened?

Too many questions.

It had not been long since Sasha was sent to Sinhold. No Royal had ever approached Ruby again. True to their words, they left her in peace. But she felt lost.

She knew something was brewing, something simmered, and she was not certain when the boiling would start.

Many blocks later, she stopped and faced the building doors.

Sasha's word's echoed in her head as they had for days, weeks... months.

We are naught but their cattle, being cared for and fed to be butchered.

She sighed and took her first steps into the Royal Library of Coulway.

☙✾❧

"Trent," Caroline nudged. "Trent."

He groaned and rolled away from her.

She kicked his leg. Then his hips, so he rolled on his back. "Get up!"

"Why?" he absently asked, drunk with sleep.

"You have an opera to go to. Get up!"

Hearing the word opera sent him flying out of bed. "Bloody tarnation," he cursed, falling on the carpeted floor.

His wife was already dressed, passing him each article of clothing as he needed them. "I prefer you naked, but you might want to secure your trousers," she said when he missed a button. She sighed as he struggled and reached out to do it herself, but he backed away. "No, woman, you stay away from my trousers. This is your fault in the first place." Having succeeded with the button, he looked up and ran his hands through his hair. "If you did not lure me into bed, I would not be running late."

She handed him his coat and rolled her eyes. "I did lure you to bed, yes, but truly, it was the jar of—"

"Stop, darling, please," he said, rushing toward her to cup her face in both hands. He gave her a chaste kiss. "Come," he said, pulling her out the door. "I feel sticky."

"It is the jam," said his wife. "You ought to have had the sense to wake up early to clean up as I did," she said as they climbed down the stairs.

In the carriage, she grinned at him. "Admit it, the jam was delicious."

He groaned, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, remembering the many ways they savoured the thick spread earlier. "Good Lord, yes."

"We have more—" she stopped and chuckled at the warning in his eyes.

Aliya's head snapped and her eyes followed Trent as he rushed past them.

"Goodness, Caroline, why is Lord Chalbarth in such a state?" asked Lady Calbridge.

"He overslept, Your Grace," she replied demurely, taking the seat beside Aliya.

"At this hour?" asked Lady Winthrop.

"He was foxed," she replied.

"You mean he drank the entire day?"

"No," Caroline replied, ignoring Aliya's clearing of throat. "This afternoon."

"Just this afternoon!" both ladies cried out.

"It was a rather potent... brandy."

Aliya was shaking in silent laughter beside her.

"Oh, well... he is late," said Lady Winthrop. Then Lady Calbridge inquired about the ball she was planning for the Season.

"Was it the jam?" asked Aliya.

Caroline nodded, biting a smile.

"He liked it?"

"Very much as I did."

Aliya was about to add more when Lady Winthrop addressed them, saying, "Say, is this the first Opera Lord Darcy is holding?"

"Yes, I believe so," said Aliya. "It is rather curious, is it not? We ought not to be here, but Ollie said I may come. I actually came hoping I'd chance upon Darcy."

"Nonsense. Only the Royals can know Lord Darcy." Lady Calbridge frowned. "Is there another entrance to the Theater?"

Aliya thoughtfully considered the question. "No."

Lady Winthrop sighed. "Ah, then Darcy must have arrived before us. And shall leave after we are all long gone."

Caroline asked Aliya, "Ellise has gone back to Herst?"

Aliya nodded. "Yes. Last week with mother."

Caroline turned to the corpses across the room. There were five this time, all of them lined up. "Have you opened them?" she asked.

"No, we were waiting for you," said Aliya, throwing Lady Winthrop a look of amusement. "We must hurry. Ollie told me this Opera shall be short. Lady Winthrop?"

The woman clasped her hands together excitedly. "Now, I wonder what story our dead will whisper tonight in the Coffin..."

☙✾❧

Ellise regarded the Royals with a bored look.

She looked at her brother who was glaring at her as if he would rather pull her out of the room and throw her back to Herst, which was quite tempting.

Robert was sitting in his corner beside his father, looking at her with a face as blank as her thoughts.

"Is it true?" asked Ross from the back.

"Of course, it is true. Why do you think I am here?" she wryly asked. "The Royal Master is on his way to London to get Reginald. He left an order to watch after Leo and to deal with the Sutherland Post and the Grimes accordingly. Monitor Belcourt. Spy on Emory."

"And the princess?"

"The princess is being dealt with."

She looked around the room. Some were wary of her, others were confident. One or two were unsure. But that could not be helped. She sighed. "Starting today, you are all under my care, gentlemen." Giving the room one last sweep with her eyes, she announced, "Opera is over."