Page 38 of The Witch in the Dead of Night

“Finn?” Sigrid blinked up at me, holding her wrinkled cap in her hands.

“What happened?” I asked.

“It’s one of my girls,” sniffed the laundress. “She’s disappeared on me.”

My stomach roiled. “Who?”

Sigrid sniffed. “Her name is Ruby. Well, that’s what she told me at least.”

“I remember her,” I said. “I spoke to her the day I …” I trailed off, the memory of my attack too near. “You think she lied about her name?”

She nodded. “She didn’t answer to it half the time. Never talked about her life before she came to Valnar, either.”

“When did she disappear?”

“Before supper on Farren’s Day. Just before the solstice.”

My blood ran cold. “That’s the night I was attacked.”

The air grew prickly as the door creaked open to reveal Mrs. Cathers, her lips twisted into a cruel smile. “Not this about the girl again,” she said, shaking her head. “You’ve been in this business as long as I have, Sigrid. I have no doubt that that wench went crawling back to Swan’s. Better coin in it.”

“She had no interest in returning there,” Sigrid hissed. “Not ever.”

I glanced back and forth between them. Madam Swan was a proprietor of a house of ill repute on the city’s outskirts. We’d all heard whisperings about it from the odd footman or guard.

“Oh please,” said Mrs. Cathers. “I caught her sneaking out after hours many times. On her way to pick up old clients, I presume.”

Sigrid rose, her fists clenched. “You bite your tongue.”

The housekeeper cocked a brow. “I beg your pardon?”

Sigrid’s jaw snapped shut. I shot Mrs. Cathers a filthy glare, drawing myself up to my full height. “That’s enough,” I said.

“Of course, my lady,” said the housekeeper, retreating with an exaggerated flourish. I flicked my wrist the moment she crossed the threshold, causing the door to slam so forcefully that the birds roosting in the cloisters took off. Sigrid stared at me with wide eyes, but said nothing.

I cleared my throat. “Spiteful old hag.”

Sigrid offered a weak smile. “Finn, I overheard from some of the other staff that you spoke to the King about what happened to you down in the city. What did he say?”

I faltered, dropping my gaze. So much had happened since that night in the Winter Garden when I promised Mordric that I would leave the matter alone. My stomach roiled as I was racked with guilt. If the disappearances were connected, that meant that Ewan could be responsible for the deaths of at least two other women.

“Finn?” she asked, interrupting my thoughts.

“I, er, he said he was putting his best people on it.”

“Oh,” she whispered. “Is that all?”

“Things have been so busy,” I admitted. “But I’ll talk to him. Right now, in fact.”

Sigrid sniffed. “Thank you. I just couldn’t live with myself if something horrible happened to one of my girls.”

I swallowed. “Of course.”

Rather than entering the castle through the cellars, I circled the grounds, using the time to put my thoughts together. It was the new moon, which meant Mordric had been holding audiences with the people of Valen since sunset. A small crowd still milled in the corridor as they awaited their turn with the King. Farmers clutched their hats in their sun-spotted hands, merchants their wares. Even nobles idled in the receiving room, albeit less patiently, and their finery stood in stark contrast to that of the others. One noblewoman even pinched her nose, standing as far from those she considered beneath her as the narrow corridor allowed.

My gaze snagged on a middle-aged couple exiting the receiving room. They weren’t dressed in the flagrant style of most courtiers, but their garments were a deep shade of indigo. They walked an awkward distance apart, as if they had just ended a heated argument, but there was no anger in the emotions pooled on the surface of their minds. Resentment lingered there, sure, but it was the grief that nearly overwhelmed me.

The doors to the throne room were closed, but I could make out muffled conversations between the King and his subjects. I felt like an ant before them. I swallowed, my resolve crumbling into ash as I recalled the promise I’d made to Mordric in the Winter Garden.