The Stepsister Scheme

Danielle’s arm and tugged her back toward the tower. “Come, Princess,” she whispered. “We must talk.”
    Danielle allowed Talia to lead her from the wall. She felt dizzy, her mind numb as she tried to understand what had happened. Charlotte had tried to murder her. And Armand... “What did she mean about my husband?”
    Talia’s fingers tightened painfully on her wrist. “Come,” she said again.
    As they hurried across the courtyard, Danielle glanced up at the iron cross and prayed for Armand.

    CHAPTER 2
    Talia insisted Danielle remain outside until she examined Danielle’s chambers. Only after checking every blanket and tapestry did she wave for her to enter. The instant Danielle stepped inside, Talia shut and locked the door behind her.
    The dead dove still lay on the floor. The blood had begun to dry, becoming a dark, syrupy puddle. A weak coo led her to the wounded pigeon, who was still crouched on the bed.
    “You’re a witch?” Talia said, her tone making it less a question than a statement of fact.
    Danielle stared.
    “The way you command those birds. They fight and die for you.”
    “They’re my friends,” Danielle said. “They came to me when my mother died. The birds and the mice, they helped me with my chores and kept me company through the long hours locked in the attic.”
    Talia raised an eyebrow. “Best not to mention that to too many people. They think the royal family is quirky enough already.” She picked up Charlotte’s hunting knife. “You fought better than I expected, but you made a very stupid mistake.”
    It was the first time since the wedding that anyone had spoken to her so bluntly. Anyone but her stepsisters, of course. Danielle was both relieved and annoyed. “What mistake was that?”
    “You were quiet. Lesson number one: when someone tries to assassinate you, you scream like a spoiled child.” Talia peered out thee m„ window. “There are hundreds of guards and soldiers in this castle, all of whom are better trained than yourself.”
    “Guards like you?” Danielle asked, cradling the pigeon in her lap. The wing would need to be bandaged and splinted, from the look of it.
    Talia grabbed a pillow from the bed and stuffed it into the window frame, blocking all but a slim crack of light. “Tell me about your stepsister. Has she always possessed such magic?”
    “If she had, she would have turned me into a toad years ago.” Danielle glanced at the splintered remains of the stool. “She destroyed the stool without touching it, but she seemed almost surprised when it worked.”
    Talia grabbed one leg of the stool, tucking it through her belt like a sword.
    “What are you doing?”
    Talia used her foot to sweep broken glass to one side. “Whatever magic your stepsister used, there might be traces of the spell we can use to learn more.”
    “Are you a witch?” Danielle asked. The pigeon tried to flap his good wing. Danielle stroked the gray feathers and hummed a lullaby until he grew calm once more. “You knew I was in trouble. You got through the door, even though it was bolted from the inside.”
    Talia knelt by the dove’s body, gently prying a few feathers from the sticky blood. “I have a friend who knows a little magic. Don’t call her a witch, though. She doesn’t like that.” She slipped the bloody feathers into the pocket of her apron. “Did Charlotte say anything else about the prince?”
    “Not until the wall. I don’t understand. Armand is supposed to be in Emrildale, negotiating with—”
    “He’s not.” Talia studied the room one last time, then turned her full attention on Danielle. “I thought I told you to wait here while I went after your stepsister.”
    Danielle lifted her head. “Yes, you did.”
    The slightest hint of a smile tugged at Talia’s lips. “Leave the pigeon here. He should be safe enough, and there’s plenty of spilled food for him to eat.”
    “No. He needs help.” Only then did it occur to her to ask, “Where are we going?”
    Talia opened the door to the privy. “To visit my friend.”
    Danielle didn’t move. “In the privy?”
    “Yes.” Talia stepped into the dark confines, then beckoned for Danielle to follow. When Danielle still refused, she rolled her eyes and said, “She’s also a healer. She’ll be able to help your pet.”
    “A healer who lives in the privy,” Danielle said again. When Talia didn’t answer, she shrugged and took a scarf from the trunk by the wall, using it to rig a