Page 118 of Lady Knight and the Thief

“So, is there a secret to going inside without being announced by the steward?” Torren asked and then rapped the roof of the carriage with two fingers adorned by an absolutelyseductiveamount of rings.

A whip cracked, and they lurched forward. The coach’s sway was almost hypnotic.

“If we’re behind a particularly extravagant carriage, there is a good chance of just being ignored in favor of whichever noble arrived.”

Torren nodded. “And then?”

“We dance. If we arrive and immediately try sneaking off, thatwillbe caught. Well, it would if anyone was actually listening to me while I was Captain, anyway.”

A flash of pity crossed Torren’s face. “So we dance. And then?”

“We disappear. The scepter is likely in the private collections, not the treasury.”

“What makes you say that?” Torren countered and reclined on his side of the bench.

He looked like one of the great jungle cats who lived deep in the forests, lazing in dappled sunlight. Torren was looking at Cypress as if she were his prey.

“Because I know them. They wouldn’t keep such an important relic, one that symbolized their power over Faerie, down in the treasury for anyone to snatch. It would be with the rest of their prized possessions.”

“Which is where?”

“Eastern tower. The servant corridors don’t godirectlyto the vault, but they’re close—closer than the main stairs.”

Torren nodded. “Well, that’s one mystery solved.”

Cypress pulled a face. “What?”

“We’ve been wondering why the Old One keeps waking. If it’s in the easttower, then that explains it. The scepter is supposed to be buried. Not displayed like jewels dozens of floors above ground.”

It took a minute for the information to land. “So all we have to do is bury the scepter once we get it, and the hunt will go back to sleep?”

“I wish it were that easy, Lass.”

Cypress grimaced. She was about to ask Torren what it would entail to put the Hunt back to sleep when he shook his head.

“One step at a time, Lass. I’ll explain when we get back out of the Keep, yeah?”

Cypress nodded and took a deep breath.

Out of the side of the carriage, the hulking image of the Keep loomed. The sun had set some time ago, and the only remaining light on the horizon was swallowed by the tall towers and spires of the castle of Grethnah.

Cypress felt as if she were walking into the mouth of a sleeping dragon.

The Keep was illuminated with thousands of flickering candles in every single window, as if the glow could disguise the malice within. There was already a line of carriages waiting in a slow-moving line to enter the castle.

Cypress tied the silk mask over her face with trembling fingers and glanced at Torren through her lashes.

The first time they’d met, he had been wearing a mask not completely unlike the one he was also fixing across his nose.

It was black, but the fabric seemed to absorb light, with tiny flecks of iridescent thread woven through it. The threads also decorated the edges of the mask. The color contrasted with the distinct storm-grey shade of his iris, making Cypress feel the weight of his stare that much more.

As luck would have it, the carriage in front of theirs seemed rather extravagant, with precisely painted floral motifs covering the wood trim. Gold even gilded the sides of the grand coach.

And that was not even to mention that the carriage was nearly triple the size of the one Cypress and Torren rode in. Six horses were linked to the front of it, rather than the two required to pull their carriage.

“Here we go,” Torren muttered and rolled his shoulders.

“Don’t worry, Thief, I’ll protect you,” Cypress drawled, a sly smile on her lips.