“My lord?”

I whirled to find a servant wearing Angoulême livery had approached, my stomach flip-flopping as he held out a card embossed in red.

Marc,

I’d be most happy to accept your invitation for dinner tomorrow night.

With affection,

Pénélope

Beneath her signature was a tiny sketch of a dragonfly, beautiful in its detail, although she’d probably drawn it in a matter of moments. And it was especially precious to me, as it signified that all had gone according to plan. That by making the Duke believe she had something to gain from Tristan’s downfall that she had alleviated any suspicion he might have that she was holding information back.

For now.

Nodding at the servant to signal he could depart, I sat heavily on a bench, allowing my light to fade to darkness. As the rush of fear that had been sustaining me faded, I felt my lack of sleep settle on me along with the urge to shirk the countless duties awaiting me in favor of a nap. But it was not to be.

“Marc!”

I started at the sound of Tristan’s voice from beyond the wall, abruptly certain that letting down my guard had been premature, then I heard Vincent say, “We know you’re hiding in the dark over there. Come out, come out.”

“Title to whoever finds him first?” Victoria asked.

“Done. Tristan, you count us off?”

Sighing, I rose and went to the gate in the wall, resting my chin on the silver bars and regarding my friends. All three wore light armor, swords strapped to their waists and glittering sluag spears held loosely in their hands. The sight of my cousin sent a stab of guilt through my gut. I’d gone expressly against his orders by revealing our plot to Pénélope, and I didn’t know how to tell him that I’d done so. He needed to know what she’d learned while spying on her father – the depths of the Duke’s suspicions – but my mind raced with ways to relay the information that wouldn’t cause him to suspect her as the source.

Thankfully, out in the open like this with the twins looking on wasn’t an opportune time for confessions, allowing me to defer the conversation until later. Or never, a little voice whispered inside my head.

“We need the key,” Tristan said, resting the butt of his spear on the ground. “And your company.”

Sluag hunting – or more precisely, pretending to hunt sluag – was the last thing I wanted to do. “I have a number of things requiring my attention. The markets–”

“Nothing more important than this,” Tristan interrupted. “The twins passed their examinations, and this is how they wish to celebrate.”

“Did you pass?” I asked, not because there was any doubt, but because I wanted to annoy him.

He only laughed. “I could teach those guild masters a thing or two. They lack vision.”

“And you lack humility.”

“A side effect of the title. I’ve been told there’s every chance it will worsen once I’m sitting on the golden chair with the golden hat slowly compressing my neck.”