The Royal Circus (Sutherland Book 2)

XXX | The Coffin

Aliya had never been to the Theater as what Oliver and the Royal Circus referred to their secret meeting place. She knew it was in Sinclair after Sasha had discovered the previous one in the Royal Theater the year prior.

"Eaton had foreseen the raid and asked me to spare a chamber in Sinclair for our rendezvous," Oliver explained as he led her down a narrow corridor. "Fortunately, Sinclair has more than just one useless bloody chamber," he said, opening a door.

Aliya's eyes widened as the sight of three gurneys lined up in one side of the room with bodies on top covered in white linen. "Ollie! You cannot be utterly serious!"

"Fret not, darling, we are just passing through," he said, pulling her toward another door.

"But why are there chairs on this side of the room?" she asked when she looked at the opposite wall.

"Ah, this chamber serves as the waiting area."

"The waiting area!"

"For the wives," he added.

She pulled free from his hand. "Do you expect me to wait in this chamber for you in the future?"

"When I am dead and on one of the gurneys, you may. But while I am alive, you can wait in my office upstairs if you wish. But then, the Royals do not always require the wives to always be present. It is the wives who require to be here as most of them are... shall we say—also on their way to the gurneys?"

"You will never have to expect me to spend a minute of my time in this horrid room—dead or alive."

"As I had expected," he grinned, taking her hand and leading her through the doorway which led to a flight of stairs.

When he opened the chamber to the Theater, Aliya had expected nearly the same sight from the one downstairs. But to her pleasant surprise, the room was quite welcoming.

"Is this the room I sent Jason to?" she asked. "To be rid of the brandies?"

"Yes," he said, walking down the narrow aisle that separated two groups of chairs. It was indeed akin to being in a theater, Aliya noted as she followed Oliver to the front of the room where a large desk sat.

"Is this yours?" she asked, running a hand over the surface.

"I am but the Royal Doctor, Ali. I do not lead the Circus."

"Then this is Blackwood's."

"Yes, and he enjoys owning it," her husband grumbled, checking his pocket watch. "He ought to be here soon—" he stopped, arrested when she opened a drawer. "What are you doing?"

"Looking," she murmured, picking up a round gold pendant. "It is a habit of mine when I was a Belle. When I used to have missions—What is this?" she asked, opening the pendant. To the right, she found a miniature painting of a man. To the left was the answer to her question. Addison Blackwood—Royal Master, father, and hero.

Her husband took the pendant from her hand and replaced it in the drawer. "Addison Blackwood was the Royal Master before Eaton took his place."

Aliya nodded, looking around the room. She walked over to one cabinet and started searching the drawers.

"I imagine you are not opening drawers because it is a habit of yours," Oliver drawled. "You are searching for liquors."

"No, of course not!" she cried out guiltily, walking toward a chair right in front of Blackwood's desk and settled in it. "I will behave."

Oliver went down on the floor in front of her and took her hand. "Ali, West Blackwood will be very suspicious of you. I hope you do not take it against him."