Page 41 of Immortal Rose

“Who was that man?” I asked again.

Foxcourt’s jaw worked back and forth. “It’s not for you to worry about.”

The sharp words were clearly meant to nip the bud of the conversation before it could bloom. Unfortunately, he was speaking to me, and just then, very little would have brought me more joy than aggravating him.

“Eleanor—”

“Her Royal Highness,” Foxcourt interrupted, “is also not your concern.”

I released a shuddering breath. Exhaustion already had my temper on a short leash, and the stench of the polish was making my eyes water. It drowned out even the heady blossoms of the orchid trees that lined Royal Park to my right.

“Who do you believe poisoned the King?” I pressed. “Is it him? Is that why you told Eleanor to lock the door? And if that is the case, don’t you think it is for me to worry about?”

Foxcourt said nothing.

“I see,” I began bitterly. “I’m to know nothing beyond what task I’ve been given as your prisoner—”

“My prisoner?” he ground out. “Would a prisoner be allowed to negotiate an eye-watering reward for herself with a king?”

“What does it matter to you?” I challenged. “You’ll get what you want out of me regardless.”

I didn’t need to smell his disgust to feel it simmering between us. “Did it ever cross your covetous mind, even once, to do something simply for the good of the kingdom?”

I sent him an incredulous look. “Of course not. What has this kingdom ever done for the good of me? Only the rich and titled can afford to work for charity, my lord.”

His eyes found mine with his next harsh breath, but he had no answer to that. A little thrill of victory moved through me at having outmaneuvered him.

“And anyway,” I continued, rubbing at my burning nose. Another sneeze was coming on too quickly to stop it. “You don’t care that I’ve asked for the inheritance. You’re irritated that you didn’t anticipate I’d ask for it, and that you didn’t know Vernon and I were acquainted.”

There was a telling beat of silence before Foxcourt answered, a touch too coolly, “Is that so?”

“Yes, because you cannot fathom, let alone tolerate, anything being outside of your control—” I sneezed. Bloody polish.

“Bless you,” Foxcourt said begrudgingly.

Whorls of early-morning mist caressed the green of Royal Park as we rolled steadily alongside it. Somehow, the light’s gray pallor drew out the glory of summer from the leaves and flower beds, making their scents sweeter and their colors more vibrant. There was a magic to these quiet hours, when the world stilled and seemed to recall what it had once been before: a land not of men but of fairies.

“I’ll need to go to Briarwood Palace today to retrieve a few things,” I said into the silence.

“What things?” Foxcourt asked.

“That is for me to worry about, not you,” I said, mocking.

His mouth flattened into an obstinate line. Good. Let him remember that there would be no peace between us after all he had done to me.

“Tell me,” he insisted, looking more surly by the moment.

I smirked. Not used to being denied, was he? The suspense would be healthy for him, then. And, in truth, I wanted to keep my objective from him for as long as I possibly could. Once I had my hands on what I was looking for, there’d be a risk of him taking it or holding it over me in some way.

At the sound of the curricle’s wheels spitting up gravel, Foxcourt cast a distracted look toward the one on the left, his frown deepening.

“My plan is to depart from Foxcourt House around luncheon,” I answered instead, “and to return before supper, for you to snap the shackles back on.”

“I will make the arrangements for us,” Foxcourt said, in a voice he clearly believed brooked no arguments.

“You misunderstand me,” I told him. “I am going alone.”

“Then you misunderstand me,” he bit out. “I will be accompanying you at all times.”