It was hard, Anna thought, to maintain your dignity while lying on the grass with a squirming cat on your lap. But she was going to damn well try.
She sat up, wincing. "This is Shambles."
"I know who he is," Ryne said.
"I'm very attached to Shambles." Anna clutched the cat to her chest. "We're good friends."
Shambles hissed, bit her hand, and then scampered off towards the castle. Anna glared. Ungrateful menace. Ryne just kept watching her with those glass-green eyes, his face revealing nothing.
"Why are you lying on the grass?"
"You ask a lot of questions," Anna muttered, rising to her feet. "And I'm not talking to you. I haven't forgotten about the grape incident."
He arched an eyebrow. "The grape incident?"
"Yes. When you made me feed you a grape."
Ryne looked amused. Well, amused for him, anyway, which was hardly amused at all. "Would it have been better if it was a strawberry?"
Anna brushed grass from her dress. She had to keep her hands occupied. Otherwise, they would find her knife. And that knife would find his neck. "In future," she said coolly, "I would remind you that I'm not actually your mistress."
She was being rude. She knew it. But Anna also couldn't help herself — something about Ryne Delafort made her want to smash his face into a brick wall.
Repeatedly.
His expression didn't change. "You kissed me once."
"A lapse in judgement."
"Was it?"
"Anna!" a voice called.
They both turned. Camille was hurrying across the lawn, her red hair ribbons fluttering behind her. She wore a matching red dress and shoes, although there was a wildness to her eyes today that Anna hadn't seen before; it unnerved her.
"What are you doing?" Camille demanded.
Anna frowned. "Now?"
"Yes."
"I was going to—"
"Doesn't matter." Camille seized her hand in a distinctly un-Camille-like gesture. "Come to Grim's Market with me. You know the area, don't you?"
Ryne's eyes narrowed. "What are you buying there?"
"This and that," Camille said dismissively.
Anna considered. She'd been planning to go to Grim's Market anyway — there were a few things she wanted, and someone she needed to see — but she hadn't planned to go until later that week. Camille's grip tightened.
"Please, Anna? We'll be back before nightfall."
Anna sighed. Oh, what the hell? It would save her the trouble of finding a carriage. And Camille really would need supervision in Grim's Market — it wasn't the sort of place that a gullible princess should wander around alone.
"Okay, then," Anna said. "Let's go."
"Oh, no," Tristan said, shaking his head. "Absolutely not."
Tristan stood in front of a carriage, his arms crossed over his chest. He wore polished boots today, the golden buckles the same shade as his eyes. Anna had never seen eyes like that before. Then again, she'd also never met someone that was as much of an asshat as Tristan, so there was a first time for everything.
Camille frowned. "You said you'd let me come with you."
"Yes," Tristan said emphatically. "You. Not her." He jerked his chin at Anna. "Don't you have bedpans to empty?"
Anna smiled sweetly. "Don't you have feet to kiss?"
His mouth tightened. "You piece of—"
"Alright." Camille held up a hand. "Enough. All the other carriages are being used; people are leaving after..." She swallowed. "After what happened last night. And I need to go to Grim's Market. Please, Tristan; it's just for the day."
"Fine," he grunted.
They piled into the carriage. Tristan sat on the opposite bench, interlacing his hands. They were really very nice hands, Anna thought, with long, slender fingers. Perfect for stealing things. Or, in Tristan's case, playing the piano; she'd heard him shuffling around the music room a few times. It was a shame that such lovely hands were attached to such a disagreeable person.
His eyes narrowed. "What are you buying at Grim's Market, anyway?"
Camille smiled serenely. "Hair pins."
"Let me guess," Anna said, turning to Tristan. "You're trying to buy a personality."
His hands tightened. "I'm buying explosives."
"Explosives?"
"Yes," Tristan said. "I like them."
"Because that's not concerning at all," Anna muttered. There was a sudden scuffle, and she leapt back as a ball of white fur exploded from Tristan's feet, leaping onto his lap. Her eyes narrowed. "Oh, there you are, you stupid cat."
Tristan stroked Shambles. "He's not stupid."
"He tried to jump off a roof today," said Anna.
"Maybe he wanted to get away from you."
Anna huffed. "Maybe he's an idiot."
"Maybe you're an idiot."
"Maybe—"
"Maybe," Camille cut in, "it's best if we travel in silence."
Tristan glared at Anna. Anna glared at Tristan.
"Fine," Tristan muttered. "But if she insults my cat again, then I'm throwing her out of the carriage. No matter what."
Grim's Market was busy this evening.
Sunset seeped off silk canopies, dripping down shoulders and fingers in burnt orange and gold. Cigar smoke hung in the air, mixing with fragrant spice and cooked nuts. Cheerful vendors shouted out prices of dragon scale and singing clocks, their voices rising over the bright strains of a fiddle. It looked like a fairytale, Anna thought. A bright, false fairytale.
Anna examined a curved fang. She could just make out where Camille stood, a few stands down; Camille had asked Anna which vendor knew the most about rare magical objects and then tore off in that direction.
Tristan had buggered off, too.
She frowned. Good riddance.
Anna set down the fang, consulting her watch. Any minute now. She picked up an anti-freckle potion, turning it over to check the price.
"I got your raven," a voice said. "Did you get the map?"
Anna didn't look up. She could see a bit of green cloak — not Sophie's favourite one, but that had probably been deliberate. Anna set the potion down.
"Not yet," she said.
"What's the hold-up?" Sophie asked.
"It's in a chest. A locked chest, in Ryne Delafort's bedroom." Anna picked up a red jewel. "And I've only just figured out where the key is."
Anna had put it together last night. When Isaac told Ryne about Elsie's death, she'd watched where his hand went. In a crisis, most people felt for their valuables — jewels, coins, a concealed knife — but Ryne was different. He resisted touching his valuables, as if he knew that someone might be watching.
Ryne had brushed dirt off his coat and trousers, but he'd been careful to avoid touching the left lapel. Ryne had to have a hidden pocket there. A pocket with the key.
Sophie sifted through a pile of silks. "Can you get it?"
"Yes," Anna said. "But I'll need your help."
Anna outlined her plan. It wasn't a bad plan — not her best, not her worst — but it involved waiting until the First Frost ball. A ball, Anna thought, held at Stillwater Castle every year when everyone got drunk and careless. When she finished speaking, Sophie frowned.
"Can't you steal it sooner?"
"Too risky," Anna said. "It's better to wait for First Frost. People won't notice you if you slip into the castle, then." She tossed the jewel up in the air. "I need you to create a distraction while I get the map."
"How big of a distraction?"
"Cataclysmic," Anna said. "Excuse me." She raised her voice, motioning over the vendor. "How much for this jewel?"
He frowned. "Fifty rukka."
"Thirty," she said.
"Fifty."
Anna sighed, tossing the red jewel into the air. "Don't you know how bargaining works?"
"Careful," the man snapped.
He snatched the jewel away from her. Anna made a disgruntled noise, turning away from the stand. Sophie fell into step beside her, weaving silently through the crowd, past the pit of sleeping people drugged out on dream somnium.
"You didn't buy anything," Sophie said.
"No," Anna said. "I took something."
Anna flashed a packet of blueworm powder. She'd taken it while the man was distracted with the jewel, slipping it into her pocket. Sophie didn't look surprised.
"You didn't feel like paying?"
Anna grinned. "He wouldn't have sold it to me." Blueworm powder was rare; it had taken her months to track down the last packet. Cal, a vendor she knew at the market, had tipped her off about this one, but he'd warned her that the vendor wouldn't be likely to part with it.
Sophie frowned. "Why do you need to block your magic?"
"It's not for me."
Understanding dawned on Sophie's face. "Ryne Delafort?"
Anna nodded. "The asshole decided to try out his magic on me yesterday." They paused at another stall. "Let's just say that I didn't enjoy it."
"The Delafort boy will never take it," Sophie said. "And you can't put it in his dinner. He'll have food tasters — they'll sense it."
"I have a plan," Anna said.
She picked up a silvery jar. There wasn't a price tag on this one, which meant that it would be eye-wateringly expensive. Still — it would be worth it. Annas waved over the vendor, and Sophie's eyes narrowed.
"Nightmare somnium? What do you need that for?"
"Again," Anna said, "I have a plan."
"You can make your own," Sophie pointed out.
"Not enough." Anna drew out her coin purse. "Not without being bedridden for weeks, anyway. And that would put a major kink in my plan."
Sophie sighed. "You're not going to tell me any of it, are you?"
"Nope."
Anna drew out a fistful of coins; she was planning to buy this one legally. Well, sort of legally, anyway, since nightmare somnium was illegal. Sophie touched her face, and Anna looked up in surprise. It was rare for Sophie to show affection. The green cloak hid most of Sophie's expression, but her fingers trembled.
"Be careful, Annie," Sophie murmured. "There are a million ways we can steal that map. There's only one of you."
Anna swallowed. "Give Henry my love."
"I will."
Sophie dropped her hand. Anna felt an odd sense of loss as she turned back to her coins. Even now, she found it difficult to tell Sophie that she loved her; she'd always been better with swords than sentiment.
Anna steeled herself.
She looked up. "Sophie—"
But Sophie was already gone, swallowed up by the crowd.
Camille was trying not to hope.
Hope, Camille thought, was a dangerous thing. She'd had it once; Camille used to spend hours poring over books in the Stillwater library, leafing through age-bitten pages and choking on dust. She'd read every book she could find on magical objects and possession. Researched every avenue.
But she'd been too scared to risk coming to Grim's Market.
Camille squared her shoulders. But not any longer, she thought; today, she would be as brave as Rissolyta. The fictional warrior queen wouldn't have shied away from speaking to a vendor at Grim's Market.
Even if the vendor did have fangs and yellow eyes.
The vendor chuckled as she approached. "You must be lost."
"Excuse me?"
"This is dark magic, love," he said. "Hair potions are to your left."
Indignation prickled at her. "I'm here about a necklace."
"We don't sell jewelry."
"I don't want a necklace," Camille said, exasperated. "I—look." She leaned forward, holding out her necklace. "Do you know what this is?"
The man leaned in, examining it. He smelled vaguely of wet fur and parchment, but his skin was human. A shape-shifter, Camille realized, from Salvatoria; it was rare to see them outside their kingdom, and even rarer to see them half-transformed.
His brow knit together. "Where'd you get this?"
"I can't say."
"Well, I'd return it." The man dropped her necklace. "I've heard stories about these. Possession amulets, forged by faeries in the Somnus Woods. There's only a handful of them in the world." He looked at her curiously. "Who are you, exactly?"
Camille's heartbeat picked up. "How do you get it off?"
The vendor ignored her. "You look familiar. Have I seen you before?"
"No."
"Are you sure? You're not from Lucerna?"
"No, I'm not," Camille said, irritated. "Back to the necklace. How do I remove it?"
The vendor snapped his fingers. "Hang on. You look exactly like—"
"Camille?"
She turned. Anna was carving a path towards her, a brown paper bag swinging from her wrist. Camille looked at it curiously but didn't ask what was in it; after all, Anna had extended her the same courtesy.
"Are you almost done?" Anna asked. "Tristan's in the carriage, and he's getting all bent out of shape. Something about missing dinner."
Camille glanced at the vendor. He'd turned to help another customer, but he was still looking at her curiously. Maybe a little too curiously, Camille thought, her heartbeat picking up. She couldn't have Brigid finding out that she was here.
"Yes," she said. "Let's go."