Red Hood's Revenge

you know the truth?” Danielle asked.
    “If they wished their identities known, they wouldn’t be working as servants to my mother.” He shrugged. “I’ve heard the stories of Snow White and Sleeping Beauty. Who hasn’t? The fact that they’re here in Lorindar, alone, tells me those stories didn’t have as happy an ending as the bards would have us believe.”
    “They’re not alone,” Danielle said firmly.
    “You know what I mean.” He squeezed her hand. “You could have told me.”
    “It wasn’t my secret to share.”
    “I know.” He winced as one of the children let out a particularly piercing scream. He started to say more, and then his expression hardened.
    Danielle followed his gaze to see guards racing toward the main gate. “Nicolette, get the children inside.”
    “You too.” Armand took Danielle’s arm.
    One of the guards turned back, shouting for Tymalous. Danielle’s heart pounded, and she pulled free of Armand’s grip. “If this were an attack, they’d be calling for reinforcements, not the king’s healer.”
    By now most of the palace staff had stopped to see what was happening. Father Isaac emerged from the chapel, faded black robe flapping behind him as he ran. Tymalous moved more slowly as he followed.
    Snow was the first through the gate, half- carrying the exhausted and battered Trittibar. His arm was a bloody mess, the sleeve and skin shredded. Talia followed, pushing Charlotte ahead of her.
    “Roudette got away.” Danielle could see it in Talia’s expression. Nothing enraged Talia more than her own failure, and whatever had happened, she blamed herself.
    Danielle put a hand on Armand’s shoulder. His entire body was tense as he watched Talia hand Charlotte over to the guards. The last time he had seen Charlotte, she and Stacia had used magic to enslave him.
    Snow and Trittibar sat down right there in the grass. They had obviously come straight from battle, without taking time even to bandage Trittibar’s wounds. Tymalous and Isaac shooed Snow away as they inspected the damage to Trittibar’s arm.
    Snow swayed and might have fallen if Talia hadn’t caught her. Danielle was already running toward them, Armand close behind.
    “What happened?” Danielle asked. “Are you both all right?”
    “I’ll be fine,” said Snow. “It’s Trittibar’s fault, whisking us away so suddenly. He broke my wind spell, and the backlash was worse than I expected.” She gave Talia a wan smile. “It’s embarrassing, really. Breaking wind in the middle of a fight.”
    “That’s terrible.” Talia punched her lightly on the shoulder. “Roudette—”
    “I know,” said Danielle. “She escaped. Which means she’ll be coming after me again.”
    “Not you.” Talia glanced over her shoulder, as if she expected to see Roudette charging through the gate behind her. “Me.”
     
    The throne room was Danielle’s least favorite part of Whiteshore Palace. Standing here surrounded by such wealth and opulence still made her feel like an imposter.
    Marble pillars framed a circular dais. Twin thrones sat at the top, each one carved of dark-stained oak and inlaid with gold and ivory. The back of the king’s throne was shaped to resemble a griffon. The queen’s was carved with a swan motif, the wings folded forward as though to embrace Beatrice.
    From Danielle’s place beside the queen, she could make out every line in the swan’s feathers, each one carved with inhumanly fine detail. The queen sat stiffly, her back not quite touching the back of the chair. Beside her, King Theodore was whispering something to Chancellor Crombie, a sour old man with a wrinkled face and permanently ink-stained fingers. Crombie sat to the right of the dais, parchment and ink laid out on a wooden desk before him.
    Armored guards stood to either side of the double doors at the far end of the throne room, their mail polished until it shone almost as brightly as Snow’s mirrors. Father Isaac waited to the left of the dais, silver crucifix clutched in both hands, his head bowed in magical prayer.
    The room was otherwise abandoned. Imposing as the throne room could be, the emptiness made it worse. There would be no audience for this hearing. Only Chancellor Crombie was in attendance to document Charlotte’s sentencing.
    Danielle straightened her belt, adjusting her sword. “Have we heard anything about Ambassador Trittibar?” she whispered.
    “Tymalous will take care of him,” Beatrice assured