Prince of Secrets and Shadows Read online

  “But we know it wasn’t an accident,” Ben said. “The king knows that there’s danger, and the Order was sent to protect the kingdom.”

  “He might know that, but the royal family doesn’t want the people to know the truth,” Lady Penelope said. “Which is why I did not appreciate your appearance in the ballroom that night, Eleanora. Others have seen you, and now there will be whispers about a secret coup.”

  “I had my mask up,” I argued.

  “That might work to our advantage.” Amir picked up a sheet of parchment off my father’s desk. “If there are rumors of a coup, our enemies will be on high alert and more inclined to make mistakes.”

  Lady POW waltzed around the library in moving thought. “It is still not ideal.”

  Harshad gave her an uncharacteristic smile. “What other choice do we have, Pepé?”

  I was a little surprised to see Lady Penelope smile coyishly at his words. It was no doubt something that was unique between their partnership, or friendship even. I could not say. There were likely years of shared moments between them, and at any given second, any random memory might manifest itself between them.

  “The same one we always do, of course. But giving up has never been our style,” Lady Penelope replied.

  “We can spread other rumors about the coup to make it more confusing if that will help,” Ben offered, clearly cheered by the thought of making his rounds.

  “Or more convincing,” Amir added.

  Lady Penelope glanced over at Ben. “You can take care of that, Benedict, while you are out looking for the other seller of the silver thallis herb. We still need to find the merchant if we are to make an antidote and possibly find out more about Dr. Artha’s murder.”

  “I can help with that, too,” I said. “It would give me something else to talk about at any parties. I have been introduced to quite a few gossips. If we head out tonight, we might even be able to learn about Lord Maximillian.”

  I was not excited about the thought of dancing again—especially knowing that Ferdy was unlikely to come and “rescue” me as he had before—but I was eager to prove myself again.

  Lady POW shook her head. “You will be staying here, Eleanora.”

  “Why?” I put my hands on my hips, and from Amir’s sudden smirk, I had a feeling my nostrils were flaring. He had told me before that Máma used to do the same thing when she was angry. I ignored him as I tried to stare down my grandmother.

  Lady Penelope was not about to let me win, any more than she had been willing to let Amir defeat her earlier. “Calm down. You can use some time off from Society while Harshad starts training you.”

  “Excuse me?” Harshad whirled around and frowned at her. “Pepé, I must object.”

  “I do, too!” I stepped forward angrily, cringing as my leg, the one Ferdy had bandaged so carefully, ached with momentary pain. “If you remove me from Society, people will talk.”

  “People always talk.” Lady Penelope sniffed. “If you do one thing, they’ll talk, and if you do another, they’ll talk. And if you do nothing or speak out or anything, they will talk. There is no stopping it. The trick is to get them to talk about what you want them to talk about.”

  “So what would you have them say about me?”

  “I will tell them you were injured in the castle incident. We can say your leg was injured—which appears to be true.” She looked down at my leg. There was nothing preventing me from applying pressure to it, but Lady Penelope had apparently noticed my injury. “It is a decent excuse, and it will give Harshad the chance to train you in basic fighting techniques.”

  “What about Cecilia?” I asked. “And the others? How am I going to find them if I stay here?”

  “And how are you going to stop an assassin or prevent a castle from imploding if you don’t have the correct training?”

  Shame instantly silenced me, while Lady POW turned to Harshad. “There are times when expediency allows for flexibility. This is not one of those times. We have a responsibility to Eleanora. You will begin training with her in the morning. No objections, Harshad. We have made too many mistakes already. The coup is clearly very astute, and we need to make sure Eleanora is ready to face them next time. You will begin her training in the morning. No excuses.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at me, as though she was daring me to object. There was a familiar, critical look in her eye, and I knew she was analyzing me for weakness.

  Remembering my failure again, I knew it was not a hard calculation to make.

  Harshad and I exchanged glances and then briskly looked away.

  “Amir,” Lady Penelope called. “You will continue with your assignments.”

  “Yes, Madame.” Amir nodded, but at his bitter exasperation, I realized Lady POW was punishing him. As Lady Penelope issued Ben his orders, Amir gave me an enigmatic glance.

  When I arched my brow in return, he shook his head, but I saw his fingers twirl and flick, just the way Tulia did when she wanted to tell me something.

  Later.

  A rush of curiosity and dread ran through me at his signal. As Ben left the library, trotting at Lady Penelope’s heels and Amir excused himself, I realized I was not the only one who was keeping secrets.

  *4*

  ◊

  Much to my dismay, Amir was gone for the rest of the day. It seemed I would be left wondering how long it would take to hear what he wanted to say in addition to wondering what it would be.

  I could not say if my ignorance made it easier or harder to fall asleep, as a hundred little things kept turning over inside my mind. Everything from leaving Ferdy, to Lord Maximillian’s success, to Amir fighting with Lady POW—all of it shifted through my mind as I lay in bed, waiting for sleep to come and free me.

  I learned too late it was a false freedom. When I slipped into sleep, I dreamed of Máma. I saw her, I ran for her; my arms were wide open. I desperately wanted to embrace her, but I somehow managed to run right past her, before she faded away entirely. I was despondent, left with my father as he lay dying in his study. Táta looked over at me as he cried, and I wondered if he saw me as a ghost of sorts—a shade of my mother, always present but never there.

  A loud knock at the door sounded behind me, and I blinked awake. My eyes opened to see my bedroom, and I was instantly torn between what was real and what was true, unable to see the difference. My dreams were filled with terror and longing, and so was my reality.

  “Wake up, Nora. Harshad sent me to collect you. He expects us in the west wing parlor at once. You’re already late for your first lesson.”

  Ben.

  His voice pushed back the fog inside my mind, reminding me of our former lives—days full of chores, ranging from frivolous to dangerous to monotonous, evenings together as Ben toiled away with his tools and I fled reality with the help of my stolen books. I could have been happy with that life, if it were not for Alex. Over the years, my stepbrother’s leering grew more licentious, and I began to feel more nervous. While she was intolerably proud, I welcomed my stepsister Prissy’s haughtiness to Alex’s predatory gaze.

  “Harshad is waiting,” Ben called from the other side of my bedroom door. There was more impatience in his voice this time.

  How long has it been since he came to wake me up? It could not have been more than a minute or two.

  “You don’t want him to give Lady POW a poor report, do you?”

  “Of course not.” I finally sat up in bed, reluctant to leave my bed even if I was eager to run from my dreams.

  “We should be there already.”

  I rubbed my eyes, slightly irritated by his persistence. “Why are you coming?”

  “Harshad asked me to help with your lesson today. Lady POW thought it was a good idea for us to train together.”

  It took me a moment of consideration, but I eventually decided the decision made sense to me, even if it caught me off guard; after all, Ben always did his best to make sure I could protect myself, whether I was fighting agai
nst Alex or my own doubts and despair.

  That was how Liberté was born.

  I smiled at the thought of our old dream. By the time Lady Penelope had arrived in our lives, Ben and I had a fully-conceived plan to own a bookshop, and we only needed a little more time to get the money to finance it. We were going to name it Liberté, all in hopes it would bring us the freedom to escape Cecilia.

  There were many times, I remembered when Liberté was my only light in the darkness of my life.

  Ben knocked on my door again, calling me back to the present. “Harshad is a demanding teacher. You don’t want to do anything to make it worse.”

  “Tell him I will be down shortly,” I said as I got out of bed and reached for my stockings.

  There was no reply, but I could hear Ben’s uneven footsteps echoing softly down the hall; there was an eagerness in them that made me pause. My brother had a good deal of respect for Harshad. When Cecilia called us to work, Ben would only hurry if we were going to be punished. He never did more than he had to for her.

  If Lady Penelope had not shown up the night of Alex’s engagement, what would Ben and I be planning now?

  Not getting dressed for an early morning training session with the most surly man on this side of the empire, that was for sure, I thought. I pulled back my hair with a tie before taking a quick moment to examine myself in the mirror.

  My breath caught at the sight of the twinkling gold and glimmering gems behind me.

  The combs Ferdy had given me for my hair were lying on my night table, next to my mother’s locket and my father’s pocket watch. I had pulled them out last night, clinging to them like talismans as I let myself mourn over my losses.

  At the sight of them, shining so innocently in the small light of my room, I hurried to put them away.

  I did not want to lose the ones I loved or the treasures they left behind. But for now, there was nothing I could do. I shut them inside my drawer firmly, reminding myself of that truth before I made my way down to the west parlor.

  ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊

  The west parlor was a room usually kept for the master of the house and, as far as I knew, his brandy collection. When I was much younger, Ben and I used it as a place to play on rainy days, wrestling with each other and climbing on the tabletops, pretending they were mountains, while our father watched.

  After Táta died, I never returned to that room, or to the idea that life could be carefree and fun.

  When I arrived for my lesson, I did not recognize the room at all. From the strange rearrangement of the furniture and the potent smell of sweat and leather, nothing fit with my previous memories except the small fire crackling cheerfully in the fireplace. I stared at it, seeing the light was unable to penetrate into the farthest reaches of the room, slinking around the strange equipment.

  “Good morning, Miss Eleanora.”

  Harshad was seated on the floor in front of the fireplace, his back facing me, sitting so still I had missed him entirely. He was wearing a loose shirt and a strange pair of pants, ones that were printed with bright colors and stitched with golden thread. His feet were covered with tight leather shoes, vastly different from the Hessians he usually wore.

  At his tone, I could not tell if he was irritated or not, so I decided if he could be matter of fact, I could too.

  “My apologies for the delay, Mr. Harshad, sir.”

  “Allow me to formally introduce myself to you.” He stood up. “My name is Harshad Prasad, and I am a longstanding member of the Order of the Crystal Daggers, as well as an honorary member of the League of Ungentlemanly Warfare under Her Imperial Majesty Queen Victoria.”

  At his introduction, I started to curtsy to Harshad, offering a proper greeting, more out of habit and manners than anything else. “How do you—”

  “You need to work on your observation skills, Miss Eleanora,” he continued. “Lady Penelope has never properly addressed me in your company. If you are going to work with us, you must do better.”

  “I noticed that you call Lady Penelope ‘Pepé,’” I said. From the other side of the room, I thought I heard Ben chuckle softly.

  Harshad arched his brow, seeming to hide a smile. “What good does that do you?”

  I felt my cheeks flush over in embarrassment. “I know you are friends that way,” I said, attempting to salvage my pride.

  Ben signaled to me from the corner of the room. I did not know what he wanted to say, but Harshad did not give me time to figure it out.

  “‘Friends’ is hardly the proper term,” he scoffed. “Colleagues, yes. Friends? We have known each other too long for that.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing. You will need to pay very close attention to what I am saying and what I am doing, starting with two basic skills. As you know, your brother is here to help in these matters.”

  Ben gave me a small, self-assured smile. I thought about giving him one back when I caught sight of a small, empty plate on the desk. The sight of it made my stomach rumble uncomfortably.

  Someone had his morning tea already, I thought, torn between hunger and jealousy.

  As if he knew I was already distracted, Harshad cleared his throat. “You’re not dressed properly. Where is your stealth habit?”

  “I didn’t see why it would be necessary,” I replied, unable to stop my cheeks from burning. I had not thought of what I would need to wear before I left my room, but Harshad had already made me feel uncomfortably hapless. I tried to dismiss his worries. “I can work fine in skirts. Ben and I have been brawling with each other and battling our way around the manor since we were born.”

  “That’s true,” Ben said. “She has a lot of promise as a fighter.”

  Harshad glared at Ben. My brother fell silent, but I was heartened that he did not recant his words.

  “For our first area of instruction, Miss Eleanora,” Harshad began, “what I will be teaching you includes different techniques and styles of fighting.”

  “Will we work with weapons, too?” I asked, pulling out my dagger. It was still in its sheath, the violet blade hidden by the ancient leather.

  Harshad took it out of my hands so fast I only blinked and then it was gone. “Pay attention to what I am telling you now.”

  “But—”

  “You would have been able to move better if you had been in your habit. If you are going to work with the Order, you should know right now, you will face opposition. If you are to stand for something, you will find yourself standing against something else.”

  “That sounds like one of Newton’s Laws,” I murmured, thinking back to one of my father’s books on science I had once stolen from the library.

  “It is similar,” Harshad agreed with a small sigh, and I felt a small spark of hope inside of me that I might be able to impress him, if only a little. “You will find it is easier to fight the more you prepare for to face backlash on multiple fronts. You will find it is necessary to stand for something, because other people will not only stand against you, but their ideas will come up against yours. Ideas cannot be destroyed—they can only be controlled.”

  I nodded in easy agreement. What he was saying seemed to make sense. As much as I might have loathed the instructor, I lauded the content.

  “Chaos is never as chaotic as it seems. You will see that in each struggle. And that is where we will begin.”

  “How is Ben going to help?” I looked over at my brother, watching him as he stepped forward.

  Harshad frowned. “I thought I made myself clear earlier. Do not interrupt me when I am talking, Miss Eleanora.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him; I had a feeling I was not going to like Harshad any more than he appeared to like Lady POW.

  “You must focus your mind and learn to balance your body. Where your attention is, where your focus lies, that is where the rest of you will follow.”

  “Why would that help—”

  “Following that,” Harshad continued, interrupting me, “you will learn to direc
t your strength in mind, body, and spirit in order to fight effectively.

  “Not all battles are physical. Many are fought in the worlds beyond this one, and many are fought inside of us—in our need for purpose, to understand, to be loved and accepted and understood. The heavenly and hellish wars, we cannot do much for; but the battles inside of us we must learn to fight, especially if we are to win.”

  I nodded, figuring there was no way he could object to that, so long as I remained silent. Before I could find out, the door opened.

  “Amir,” Harshad barked. “You are late.”

  “My apologies, sir.” Amir stayed at the edge of the room, standing with his arms folded, serving as a guard and silent audience. In the bleak harshness of the early morning light, I could see the weariness etched into his face, which made him look much older.

  What is Amir doing here? Does Harshad think I will need medical treatment after this morning?

  I sincerely hoped that was not the reason.

  From the expression on Ben’s face, I knew he was curious as to why Amir had come, too.

  “It seems you are working well enough with the first rule, Miss Eleanora,” Harshad said, forcing my attention to return to him. “Now, let us begin. We will be working with a form of western boxing, mixed in with more eastern martial arts.”

  “What is the difference between the East and the West?”

  “It is the same difference between power and persuasion, between truth and authority,” Harshad murmured, clearly pleased by his own mercurial answer. “Both have their advantages and disadvantages. They start at the same point—your form.”

  With Harshad’s instructions and Ben’s help, I began to work through different fighting stances. Before long, I forgot about Amir, and a good deal of the rest of my troubles, as my mind was overrun with descriptions and positions and reasons, exceptions and metaphysical meanings, all while my body was tasked with working through several motions and movements.