The False Prince (11 page)

A
few of the servants’ windows were open, but it didn’t seem like a good idea to go through any of them. Too many people, most of whom would be waking up soon. Besides, then I’d have to get all the way upstairs and past Mott or whoever stood guard outside our room at night, all without being seen.

Conner’s window was slightly open. That would at least get me on the right floor. Then I could keep watch and hope for a sleeping servant guarding my door, or an easily distracted one. As risky as it was to use his room, it was my best choice. Maybe my only choice.

Conner had a small balcony outside his room. The door was bolted shut to keep it from blowing open during a wind gust, but the window beside the balcony was opened enough to let a slight breeze through. The window gave easily when I pressed on it. It was much larger than the window by my bed, so there was no difficulty in sliding my body into his room.

I stood still for a very long time to be sure of the rhythm of his sleep, the depth of his breaths and their cycle. He snored softly, which I appreciated because it gave me some cover for any sound I might make.

His wide canopy bed was draped in so much fabric, it was difficult to see his body. The sounds of his snoring would have to be enough to assure me I was safe.

Back in Mrs. Turbeldy’s orphanage, I’d spent more nights than days roaming through the rooms. I knew how to test for a floor’s squeak before placing my weight on it. I knew how to open a door, a closet, or a drawer so that it didn’t create a sense of movement in the room. And I knew how to stay invisible.

At least, I knew how to do it there.

Here, it was a little more complicated. I wasn’t familiar with the layout of Conner’s room, and there wasn’t much light to work with.

Conner’s room was larger than our bedroom. Ridiculously large for only one man, but he was the master here, so if this was the room he wanted, it was his. On one end of the room, to my left, was his bed and several large wardrobes along the far wall for his many fine clothes. Near me was a cushioned chair where he could look out over the balcony onto the back lawn while he sipped a morning tea. To my right were rows of shelves filled with books. He had so many more in his office below that I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d actually read all these books, or were they merely for show? Probably he’d read them. Conner was a thorough man. I was briefly curious about the titles, about what books he studied. Then Conner mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep and rolled over. It was time to go.

The door into the hallway was shut tight. One of the problems that concerned me was not knowing what I’d find on the other side. Was his room guarded or waited on by a night servant? A nobleman’s often is, but I wouldn’t know until I opened the door, and there was a stiff penalty for guessing wrong.

Then in the moonlight, something caught my eye, hinting at a possibility I’d suspected, but not yet proved. The fringe on a hanging tapestry was pinched between walls. Conner had told us earlier that he knew all the secrets to Farthenwood. I hoped this was what he had meant. Either the interior walls were uncommonly thick or Farthenwood had secret passageways.

I took my time crossing the floor of Conner’s bedroom. Wood floors are notorious for their creaks, and I didn’t want to cause the creak that woke him. Once I reached the wall, finding the way to open the door into the passageway was remarkably easy. Three finger holes were carved into the wall, but hidden by the border of the tapestry.

I opened the door to the passage as slowly as possible and no wider than necessary. In a bind, I can get through small spaces. This was a very big bind and I allowed myself only a very small space to enter.

Once inside, I saw that the passage was barely lit, with oil lamps set in sconces and spaced far enough apart that a person could make his way through. It was narrow and poorly marked for any exit points, except for a small handle on the wall that released the hidden door to open. I took a few wrong turns, entering other guest rooms that were fortunately empty.

When I came to our room, I immediately saw why Conner had chosen to put us here. There was a small hole at the base of the wall that I’d previously mistaken for a mouse hole. It was no such thing. Conner had given us a room where, if he wanted to, he could listen to our conversations.

Conner still used the tunnels, or one of his surrogates did. That’s why oil lamps were kept burning all the time. I would have to use great caution if I chose to return here.

I silently pressed open the secret door, letting myself back into our room. Tobias and Roden were both asleep in their beds. I watched each of them for a while, wondering if in different circumstances any of us might have become friends. Then I shook it off. It had been a long time since I dared call anyone a friend. The concept was only theoretical to me now.

Tobias woke up early that morning to find me sound asleep in my bed, and nobody the wiser. He stared at me openmouthed when I finally woke up, until I rolled over to fall asleep again. Tobias never asked me the story of how I got back into our room. And I never offered it.

E
rrol entered my room that morning with the clothes I’d worn when Conner first brought me here.

“Finally,” I said. “Why the delay?”

Errol hesitated, finally deciding that instead of answering, he’d ask whether I had any reward for him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said lightly. “But if you’re ever in the library, there’s a small bump in the pages of Conner’s family history. You might straighten it out.”

Errol grinned. “No offense, sir, but all three of you came in here empty-handed. It might be wise for me to ask where that coin came from.”

I shook my head. “The truth is, Errol, that it would not be wise at all. Thanks for returning my clothes. Now get out and leave me alone.”

“I can put those clothes away, sir.”

“So can I. Close the door behind you.”

When he left, I unfolded the clothes to inspect them. They’d been washed, and a rip in the side of my shirt was mended, but otherwise they seemed the same as before. These were so much more like me. I didn’t belong in the silks and fine weaves Conner costumed us in. They weren’t comfortable. I didn’t feel like a gentleman while wearing them, and certainly not like a prince. I felt like a fraud. Which in the truest definition of the word, I was.

Before folding the trousers, I checked the pockets. My eyes widened and I yelled for Errol to come back into the room.

“I had something in this pocket,” I said. “Where is it?”

Errol shook his head, but he clearly knew the answer. “You had nothing of value in there, sir.”

I moved closer to him and his face paled. “Did you throw it out, then?”

In almost a whisper, Errol said, “Conner heard you wanted these back. He insisted on inspecting them before they were returned to you. If anything is missing, sir, you should ask him.”

Minutes later, I stormed into Conner’s small dining room, slamming the door against the wall. “Where’s my gold?”

“Where’s Mott?” Conner asked. “He should have escorted you.”

“He doesn’t know I left. Where is it?”

“I can’t imagine what you’re talking about. Now come, sit, and have some breakfast.” He gestured to a seat near Roden and Tobias, who were both staring at me as if I’d gone completely insane.

I had no intention of sitting. “The gold. In the pockets of the clothes I wore before coming here. You took it.”

“That’s what this is about?” Conner laughed. “Stupid boy. That rock you carried wasn’t gold.”

“Yes, it is and it’s mine.”

Conner shook his head. “It’s imitator’s gold, Sage. You probably bought it from a swindler in the marketplace.”

“It was a gift, and it’s real. I want it back.”

“No.” Conner folded his hands together. “You’re training to become a prince, even a king. A king wouldn’t carry imitator’s gold in his pocket. Study hard to become royalty, and I’ll see that you carry real gold wherever you go.”

“We’re all imitators here. So if you’re right about the gold, then there’s no more appropriate thing for me to carry than that rock. Where is it?”

“It’s mine now,” Conner said. “I’m sure I’ll find a useful purpose for it one day, maybe as a skipping stone in the nearby river. Now please sit down. We were about to discuss the royal lineage.”

“You discuss it,” I said. “I’ve got better things to do.” And I stormed out.

I didn’t make it to the reading or history lessons that morning. Tobias, Roden, and I were on our way out to the stables that afternoon when Mott and Cregan strode toward us. I was eating an apple swiped from the kitchen, but from the expressions on their faces, I didn’t think I’d get to finish it.

“They look angry,” Tobias said to me. “What did you do?”

“Is it always something I’ve done?” I asked. “Don’t you and Roden ever do anything worth their attention?”

“It’s always something you’ve done,” Roden agreed.

Although I was tempted, there was no point in running. We were trapped between the stables and the house, so they’d catch me anyway. Besides, whatever punishment was coming my way, I didn’t need to complicate it further.

Cregan placed both hands on my chest and shoved me to the ground. Sure enough, the apple rolled out of my hand and into the dirt. “Where is that rock?” he asked.

The fall to the ground knocked the breath from me, but I still muttered, “It’s gold.”

“You stole it from the master.”

“Who stole it from me. What I did only set the universe back in order.”

“You don’t want this fight, Sage,” Mott warned. “Now please, where’s the rock?”

I set my jaw forward and dug the heel of my boot into the dirt. Maybe he was right, but I wasn’t going to admit it.

“Take him,” Mott said to Cregan, who pulled out his knife and ordered me to stand. When I did, he pressed the knife to my neck and grabbed my arm. With Cregan by my side, and Mott on my heels, we walked back to Farthenwood.

Conner was waiting for me in his office, standing behind his wide oak desk. Cregan threw me into the chair in front of the desk, and he and Mott stood on opposite sides of me.

“Where is the rock?” Conner asked coldly.

“Isn’t it in your desk where you left it?” I countered with an equal coolness to my voice.

That set Conner off. He nodded at Cregan, who slapped me hard across my cheek. I tasted blood in my mouth and closed my eyes a moment before the sting eased enough that I could open them.

“I bought you from the orphanage!” Conner yelled. “That means I own you, which means I own everything that belonged to you! That rock is mine.”

“If it’s not real gold, then why do you want it?” I asked.

“Because I don’t want you to have it! I will not present someone to the court who carries imitator’s gold in his pocket. Where is it?”

“Maybe you lost it,” I said.

Cregan slapped me again, harder this time.

“Take him to the dungeon,” Conner whispered. “Do what you must, but leave no scars.”

“No, wait!” My eyes widened as fear gripped me. I knew what would happen there. “Don’t do this, Conner! It’s just a rock. Is that what you want to hear?”

Conner pressed both hands flat on his desk as he leaned toward me. “What I want, Sage, is for you to bend to my will. If I tell you to jump from a cliff, I want you to jump. If I tell you to swim to the far side of the ocean, I want you to swim. I don’t care about the rock. But if I tell you that it’s no longer yours, then I will have your loyalty, respect, and obedience. I’ll give you one last chance. Where is it?”

My heart pounded so loudly in my ears that I barely heard him. All I knew was that he would
not
get that rock even if my life depended on it. And I suspected that it did.

“Take him,” Conner said. Mott and Cregan grabbed each of my arms and literally dragged me, kicking and screaming, out the door.