him out here to beat on him before I had the chance.”
“Is there no end to your usefulness?” Amelie snatched seal and tucked it into her dress.
“How about a hint? Do not go to blows with a Shield unless you’re wielding something heavy and you can get to his head.”
“Shield?”
“His lesser power. His body can withstand hits normal men cannot. His head is his only weakness.”
John bent over and grabbed a hold of Lord Thorne’s feet. He used his head to motion to a door across the hallway. “Open the door. The piano room.”
Amelie’s nose crinkled in disgust. “A knife to the throat would be swifter.”
“Calm your thirst for blood. He’s more valuable alive. If that were not so, he would’ve been killed long ago. Now. The door.”
Amelie obliged and John pulled the lord into the room and shut the door. “He always beds some naïve maiden at these functions. No one will miss him for a few hours.”
“Hopefully everyone thinks I am that stupid maiden so they don’t miss me either,” Amelie responded. “I was sure to leave the dinner most distastefully with him.”
John nodded. “I saw. Simon did not reveal much about you, but you are far more talented than I think even he realizes. It is not many women who discard their reputation to gain the advantage in a mission.”
“There is no currency in my reputation here. I have no desire to reside in any realm the White Queen deems hers.”
“We share that sentiment. This way.” John took her by the elbow and started leading her down the hallway. He spoke as they walked. “Lord Thorne did not see me when I attacked. I must have your trust that you will tell no one what happened here.”
“You’re the leader of the White Guard.”
“Aye. And a strong opponent of the queen. I’m a member of a growing resistance group. My role here in the palace is vital to its mission. So I must keep my true motives hidden.”
“I assure you, I understand completely.”
They stepped outside. The smooth purple fabric of her dress did nothing to ward off the chill in the air. John pointed over a field to the west. “The stables are that way. This is where I must leave you.”
“I thank you, John.” Words she never thought she’d say to the man that hauled her to the White Palace in the first place.
He nodded. “Hurry.”
Amelie didn’t need further coaxing. She ran as fast as her clothing would allow, using the hour of the night and the fact that most of the people in the palace were in the throne room as cover.
She found the stables easily enough. They were set apart from all other structures, giving enough of a wide berth of land for the horses to be trained on. Amelie was glad the high fashion for balls and parties included fancy boots made to look like slippers but allowed the wearer to stand for long periods of time and dance with ease. It helped with her haste where her full skirt did not.
Simon and Rankor were sitting on the grass, leaning up against one of the fence posts and sharing a pipe. They looked like two old friends enjoying the night breeze. It made Amelie feel almost idiotic at her frantic pace with dried grass on her dress and horse shit on her shoes.
They scrambled up when they saw her.
“You said dawn,” Simon accused quietly to Rankor who shrugged, pulling his eyes over Amelie’s disheveled state.
“I keep underestimating her,” was his reply.
“So he’s not dead,” Simon said, turning to Amelie. His voice held a note of animosity, as if he thought she’d been hiding this information from everyone.
“As you can see,” Amelie retorted. “Henna’s son has no shortage of surprises.” She pulled at her dress uncomfortably. “A knife, please,” Amelie requested and Simon held a blade out to her. She promptly began cutting off the bulk of her skirt until she had two thin layers that fell to right above her knee. Absolutely scandalous, but she needed the freedom of movement.
“Well then,” Rankor said
“Is there no end to your usefulness?” Amelie snatched seal and tucked it into her dress.
“How about a hint? Do not go to blows with a Shield unless you’re wielding something heavy and you can get to his head.”
“Shield?”
“His lesser power. His body can withstand hits normal men cannot. His head is his only weakness.”
John bent over and grabbed a hold of Lord Thorne’s feet. He used his head to motion to a door across the hallway. “Open the door. The piano room.”
Amelie’s nose crinkled in disgust. “A knife to the throat would be swifter.”
“Calm your thirst for blood. He’s more valuable alive. If that were not so, he would’ve been killed long ago. Now. The door.”
Amelie obliged and John pulled the lord into the room and shut the door. “He always beds some naïve maiden at these functions. No one will miss him for a few hours.”
“Hopefully everyone thinks I am that stupid maiden so they don’t miss me either,” Amelie responded. “I was sure to leave the dinner most distastefully with him.”
John nodded. “I saw. Simon did not reveal much about you, but you are far more talented than I think even he realizes. It is not many women who discard their reputation to gain the advantage in a mission.”
“There is no currency in my reputation here. I have no desire to reside in any realm the White Queen deems hers.”
“We share that sentiment. This way.” John took her by the elbow and started leading her down the hallway. He spoke as they walked. “Lord Thorne did not see me when I attacked. I must have your trust that you will tell no one what happened here.”
“You’re the leader of the White Guard.”
“Aye. And a strong opponent of the queen. I’m a member of a growing resistance group. My role here in the palace is vital to its mission. So I must keep my true motives hidden.”
“I assure you, I understand completely.”
They stepped outside. The smooth purple fabric of her dress did nothing to ward off the chill in the air. John pointed over a field to the west. “The stables are that way. This is where I must leave you.”
“I thank you, John.” Words she never thought she’d say to the man that hauled her to the White Palace in the first place.
He nodded. “Hurry.”
Amelie didn’t need further coaxing. She ran as fast as her clothing would allow, using the hour of the night and the fact that most of the people in the palace were in the throne room as cover.
She found the stables easily enough. They were set apart from all other structures, giving enough of a wide berth of land for the horses to be trained on. Amelie was glad the high fashion for balls and parties included fancy boots made to look like slippers but allowed the wearer to stand for long periods of time and dance with ease. It helped with her haste where her full skirt did not.
Simon and Rankor were sitting on the grass, leaning up against one of the fence posts and sharing a pipe. They looked like two old friends enjoying the night breeze. It made Amelie feel almost idiotic at her frantic pace with dried grass on her dress and horse shit on her shoes.
They scrambled up when they saw her.
“You said dawn,” Simon accused quietly to Rankor who shrugged, pulling his eyes over Amelie’s disheveled state.
“I keep underestimating her,” was his reply.
“So he’s not dead,” Simon said, turning to Amelie. His voice held a note of animosity, as if he thought she’d been hiding this information from everyone.
“As you can see,” Amelie retorted. “Henna’s son has no shortage of surprises.” She pulled at her dress uncomfortably. “A knife, please,” Amelie requested and Simon held a blade out to her. She promptly began cutting off the bulk of her skirt until she had two thin layers that fell to right above her knee. Absolutely scandalous, but she needed the freedom of movement.
“Well then,” Rankor said
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