It hadn’t taken much persuasion to convince Alexandra to keep most of her people in their rooms. It had taken more to convince her to send Leland and Philip down to breakfast in order to give the appearance that everyone else was merely late. With so many absent, no one would be sure exactly who was missing until he was long gone from the Hall.

Assuming, of course, that the spells Dorothea and the Dark Priestess had prepared to cut a “door” in the High Lord’s defensive shields actually worked.

No. He wouldn’t doubt. The spells that had kept him from being detected were proof enough that Dorothea and the Dark Priestess knew how to deal with the bastard who ruled this place. He would escape with the lesser of the two prizes, true, but that lesser prize, sufficiently squeezed, might be enough bait to in turn capture Jaenelle Angelline.

Everything was in place. The three men Dorothea had arranged to help him were waiting at the bridge. There was a Dark Altar beside the Hall, but she had warned him that the detection spells around that Altar would immediately alert the High Lord, and he would never get the Gate open in time to escape. So he would take Wilhelmina to Goth, where Lord Jorval would help him reach another of the Gates.

By this evening, he would be back in Terreille with his prize, and Alexandra and the fools who were with her would still be explaining Wilhelmina’s disappearance to the High Lord…or dying.

Smiling, Osvald knocked on Wilhelmina’s door again. A moment later, impatient, he knocked harder. She was in there. He’d made sure of it this time. What was taking her so long to open a damn door?

It was tempting to use one of the simple compulsion spells Dorothea had prepared for him, but he only had two of them and didn’t want to waste one for this. Still, every minute’s delay increased the chance of someone noticing him.

He was just about to give in and trigger one of the compulsion spells when the door finally opened. “Good morning, Lady Wilhelmina.” Smiling, he lifted the box just enough to draw it to her attention. “Lady Alexandra asked me to bring this to you.”

“What is it?” Wilhelmina asked, sounding anything but eager.

“A token of her regard for you—and a gesture of goodwill. She’s planning to leave soon and has felt distressed that her concern for you may have been misunderstood. She hopes that, by accepting this little memento, you’ll be able to remember her fondly in the days to come.”

Wilhelmina still looked wary. “Why didn’t she bring it herself?”

Osvald looked at her sadly. “She feared you might refuse the gift and didn’t want to face that rejection in person.”

“Oh,” Wilhelmina said quietly, her wariness slowly changing to sympathy. “I hold no ill feelings toward her.”