“Not exactly,” Noa said. “I need information about that myth I told you about. The Lost Words. I think Beauty might be able to help—if I give her a good reason.”
The idea had come to Noa in the night—her best ideas usually did. Beauty had been around for a long time, tangling with kings and queens and their mages, none of whom had been able to best her. No one knew exactly how old she was, but Noa thought there was a good chance the sea serpent would know whether there had once been mages with powers that didn’t exist anymore. At the very least, Beauty had probably eaten a few of them.
One of the villagers looked Noa’s way, and she puffed out her chest to show off the pin.
“You look like a peacock,” Tomas said.
Noa deflated a bit. “Will you help? Nobody else can know. Julian always tells me to stay away from Beauty. He won’t like that we’re eating cake together now.”
“Doesn’t that go against your family motto or something?” Tomas said. “Marchenas are always first?”
“Our motto is about helping each other,” Noa said. “Not being honest all the time. Who could manage that? Please, Tomas?”
“Of course I’ll help you,” he said. “I always do. That’s why whenever you get one of your mad ideas, you come to me.”
He sounded cranky, but Noa figured that was because he wasn’t quite as floury as usual—it was Sunday, and his father’s assistants were cleaning the ovens.
“Did you finish repairing the bakery?” Noa asked.
Tomas nodded. The bakery had been scorched by the fire that had swept through the village, which had been started by a corrupted mage. Julian had sent soldiers and mages to help with the repairs, but the cobbler’s and the mustard shop were still shuttered and blackened. It was unusual that a village the size of Astrae would have a shop just for mustard, but the island had long been famous for it. Noa hoped it was more famous for dark magic now, though she supposed a place could be famous for dark magic and mustard.
“Oh, great,” Noa muttered. Striding toward them was the green-eyed sentry who’d been making eyes at Julian in the tower. She walked self-importantly down the middle of the road, which required the villagers to get out of her way. Julian probably wanted to lecture Noa for leaving the castle without waiting for Mite to wake up.
The sentry bowed to Noa. “Princess, the king sent me to summon you for a meeting of the council.”
Noa leaped to her feet. “Really?” Several villagers looked her way, and Noa lowered her voice to a more stately pitch. “Yes, of course. Thank you.” She said a quick goodbye to Tomas, whose only response was a long-suffering sigh.
The sentry led her along the winding village thoroughfare and turned onto the road paved in black lavastone that went to the castle. It took much longer than cutting across the hillside did, and Noa wanted to break into a run. She forced herself to maintain a dignified pace, which made her irritable.
“So,” the sentry said. “Is your brother seeing anyone?”
You don’t waste any time, Noa thought. She widened her eyes and blinked slowly. “Julian sees fine. He only needs glasses when he reads.”
The sentry looked suspicious, which meant she was clever—most people fell for Noa’s innocent little sister act. “I mean, is he dating anyone? One of the other mages told me he hasn’t since Gabriela.”
Noa hopped over a lizard in her path, silently seething. After the events of the past week, she didn’t want to hear Gabriela’s name ever again, and certainly not thrown around casually by someone who’d been on the island for all of five minutes. Noa hated to admit it, but she was still impressed by Gabriela’s dramatic escape off the sea cliff. Gabriela did everything with flair, even betrayal.
“I know he dated Lord Henry back at court,” the sentry went on. “And wasn’t there another mage before Gabriela—Florence something or other? And of course, everyone knows about him and Antony Farseer—that was a scandal for your mother, wasn’t it? The future king dating the son of a convicted pirate? But then, Julian doesn’t mind associating with pirates, does he?”
At this point, Noa would have paid the sentry to be quiet. Being subjected to a narrative summary of Julian’s love life was beyond the pale. “Oh,” she said, pretending to be embarrassed. “I thought everyone knew about him and Leo. But I guess you’re new, after all.”
The sentry’s eyebrows shot up. “Leo?”
“Yes.” Noa was trying to smother her laughter. Leo was Julian’s most trusted scout, and Kell’s second mate. It was a good thing he was a scout and spent most of his time in a rowboat far away from everyone else, because he smelled like a catch of herring left out in the sun. He had lost half his teeth in a series of drunken brawls, and wasn’t exactly Julian’s type, but he was as far as you could get from the type presented by the prim sentry, who looked like she measured her bangs with a ruler.
The sentry looked disappointed, but also thoughtful. Noa realized, too late, that she probably should have picked someone other than Leo—the sentry looked as if she were sizing up her chances against that particular competitor, and liking them just fine.
They followed the lavastone path back to the castle, entering through the gatehouse at the back. The council room, which was also the throne room, was at the end of a long hallway, and here the sentry bowed to Noa and left. The guards held the huge doors open for her, and Noa felt a prickle of happiness. She had never been welcomed into a council meeting before.
Julian lounged on his throne, his legs dangling over the arm and his eyes fixed absently on the orb he was hovering over his open palm. The other royal councillors milled about the recessed aisle at the center of the room,
