Red Hood's Revenge

how he’s been a blight upon our honor, and I can give you my word he would never again trouble another mortal.”
    Beatrice shook her head, though she was smiling. “And I was telling Trittibar that if Fairytown wanted Rumpelstilzchen for themselves, they would need to negotiate with Lyskar.” She turned back to Danielle. “You’re certain you retrieved all of the children? None of them were harmed?”
    “He gave his word.” Danielle’s fists dug into the folds of her gown. “Some spoke languages even Snow didn’t recognize. I’ve asked Nicolette to see to their needs.”
    “They’ve been away from this realm a long time,” Trittibar said. “Mortal food will help, as will the passage of time, though the older ones may never fully adjust.”
    The queen frowned. “When Rumpelstilzchen and Lang were taken alive, I thought perhaps the death I had dreamed was one of the children.”
    Danielle sat down on the bench in front of Beatrice. “For some of them, death might have been kinder.” There had been a Hiladi boy, older than most, who had done nothing but hold his knees and rock, mumbling in a simple singsong. Another girl had screamed herself hoarse, ripping the clothes from her body and gouging her skin until Snow finally cast a spell to make her sleep.
    Beatrice took Danielle’s hand. “We’ll do everything we can for them. You did well, Princess.”
    For a moment, Beatrice’s praise made Danielle feel like a child again, basking in her mother’s smile.
    The chapel door swung inward and Snow rushed inside, stuffing the last of a muffin into her mouth as she hurried toward them.
    “I’m glad you’re here,” said Beatrice. “I spoke to Lyskar this morning by crystal. The queen asked me to pass along their gratitude to each of you.” She smiled. “Once she finally accepted I was telling her the truth, that is. This should strengthen ties between our nations for many years to come. More importantly, Alynn and Francon will have their little girl back.”
    “Has Heather—Hevanna—woken yet?” Danielle asked. “I’m sure her parents will want to speak with her.”
    “Not yet,” said Snow. “A few of the children have been running wild, but most were exhausted.”
    “She’s slept a long time.” Danielle, glanced at the open door. She hadn’t checked on the children since last night. “Are you sure the spell hasn’t—”
    “I checked in on them myself earlier this morning,” said Trittibar. “I promise you Hevanna will recover. In time, most of her experiences will fade like a bad dream.”
    Danielle’s response went unspoken as a boy in the green cap and jacket of a royal page burst into the chapel. His footsteps echoed against the stone as he ran, a small wooden box clutched in his hands. Beatrice stood, her face tight with pain and something more.
    “What’s wrong, Andrew?” Danielle asked.
    “The carriage . . . the prisoners.” Andrew tucked the box under one arm and used his sleeve to blot sweat from his young face. His cheeks were flushed, and he struggled to catch his breath. “They were attacked. Less than an hour ago.”
    Talia was already moving toward the door. There should be no danger here, but Talia wasn’t one for taking chances. She checked outside, then pulled the door closed.
    “How did it happen?” asked Beatrice. Her voice was calm and commanding. She sounded almost like her old self.
    “Nobody saw who did it,” said Andrew.
    “Impossible.” Talia stopped behind Andrew, arms crossed. “The road switchbacks down the hillside, in plain view of the docks.”
    Andrew backed away. “Whoever it was, he must have been hiding in the bushes beside the road. The dock-workers heard the screams, but by the time they arrived, it was over.”
    “Did anyone survive?” Danielle asked.
    “I’m sorry, Highness.”
    Danielle fought to keep her face composed. She knew everyone in the palace by name, but the carriage had left while she was still asleep. Who had been driving, and which of the guards had accompanied them? Which of her friends had died today?
    Beatrice closed her eyes. “They died violently.” It wasn’t a question.
    “They found this with . . . with the bodies.” Andrew held out the box.
    Carved in crude letters on the lid was the name Danielle de Glas . Danielle’s name from before she married Armand. She reached out, but Talia was faster, snatching it from Andrew’s hand. She held the box to the light, examining the hinges, then