Alvilda gave her an encouraging smile. “I’m sure our heir would love to help smooth things over.”
“I will be happy to apologize, but will not undermine Maura’s plans. I’m sure you want me to follow her lead?”
“I do not think this is wise, Becka,” Calder replied. “Alain will see any delay as a slight.”
Sure, they were due a profoundly penitent apology from her, but the last thing Becka wanted was to act without Maura’s approval.
Will Alain call off the engagement over this fiasco?
The moment the thought crossed her mind, a wave of guilt washed over her. She wasn’t proud of herself for this line of thinking. It felt a twinge mercenary. Hopefully Astrid’s callousness wasn’t rubbing off on her.
“I hear what you’re saying, but I can’t make a move without Maura’s go-ahead. She was explicit.”
Alvilda looked like she’d bitten into a lemon. She huffed and turned her gaze away from Becka.
“You have picked a curious time to toe the line, sister,” Calder replied.
They’d hit an impasse, and Becka was done with this conversation. “If you’ll excuse me, Calder? I’ll see you at the council tomorrow.”
“As you say.” He stepped aside, Alvilda following his lead, allowing them to pass.
An hour later, Becka was up to her ears in bubbles when she heard a knock on her bedroom door. After a few minutes, the scent of lemons and roast sweet potatoes wafted into the bathroom. It was enough of an incentive to motivate Becka to exit the tub, quickly towel off, and wrap a silken robe around her mostly dry self.
She swept into the bedroom, her mood buoyed somewhat by the bubble bath and the promise of confections. Brownies were a balm to the soul. Luce, Saige, and Quinn stood around a large platter of food.
Seeing Quinn again, anxiety prickled at her skin. They hadn’t seen each other since Maura had walked in on them. The plight with House Hawthorne faded into the background as her experience with the book rushed back to her. “I have to tell you something about the book!”
Quinn gave her a quick nod.
“It appears they didn’t bring enough servings,” Luce said. “I’ll call down and ask for another.”
“Although the sweet potato hash looks amazing, it looks like they got my order right,” Becka replied. She reached between the shifters and picked up the platter of desserts nestled in the middle of the dinner plates on the tray.
Saige laughed, her hand rubbing the back of her neck. “I thought the desserts were for sharing?”
“This is my dinner. Order your own desserts if you’d like some.”
“You’re having three desserts for dinner?” Quinn asked.
“It’s been a long day, Enforcer,” Becka replied. “Between Langdon, Hanna, and then Calder and his not-so-sweet lover, I’m ready to call it a day. Plus, I skipped an entrée. The calories net out.”
She carried her platter over to her bed with all of them watching her movements.
“You’re dripping on the floor,” Saige said.
“You’re eating in bed?” Luce asked.
“You’ll get the bed wet,” Quinn said.
Becka frowned in their general direction. “Why is everyone being so judgy?”
“Mmmph. I told you, Saige, the fae are bourgeoise savages,” Luce said.
“Uh huh,” Saige mumbled, downing a mouthful of hash. “Complete heathens.”
Quinn walked over to the couch across from Becka’s bed and took a seat. “Would you ladies mind giving Becka and me some time to talk in private?”
Luce put her plate down and walked over to Becka. “No can do, Enforcer.”
“Pardon me? You can’t imagine I’m a threat to Becka.”
Luce’s deriding snort filled the room. “You’re no threat to her health, Quinn. But the duchess has ordered us not to allow you a private audience with her heir.”
“They’re chaperoning us, as if they’re paragons of virtue,” Becka replied.
“If the term fits,” Luce replied, hands in the air.
“Don’t I oversee your assignments with Brent now?” Becka replied.
Luce leaned over the bed, testing strips in hand to check Becka’s food for poison. “Are you paying our bills? ‘Cause I’m sure that’s the duchess.”
Becka frowned. “Ouch.”
Luce carefully pressed her testing strips against the lavender lemon bars, then the brownies, and lastly she came to the croissant bread pudding with raspberries and chocolate drizzles. She frowned and then used the spoon to scoop up a chunk of the ingredients, glaze dripping from the spoon. Luce smashed the test into the gooey goodness, a look of disgust on her face.
“This looks… decadent,” Luce muttered, extracting the strip by the end with her sharp fingernails to avoid covering her fingers with glaze.
“Do you need to smash some raspberries too?” Becka asked.
Luce shook her head. “They laced your teacup with poison via a liquid poured into the mug. But that doesn’t mean it was one of the kitchen staff. Besides, we’ve been watching them and have seen nothing untoward. The working theory is that it’s someone who has access to the kitchen, but that’s anyone in the house. This one is all clear.”
“Thanks,” Becka replied, digging into the bread pudding.
“You discovered something about the book?” Quinn asked.
“Uh huh,” she mumbled around a mouthful of warm glazed croissanty goodness.
Becka grabbed her bag from the floor, tossing it onto the bed. She opened the bag and then motioned for Quinn to pull out the book, as she didn’t have her gloves on. He fished around for the ancient tome, found it, and then placed the book on the bed at her feet, opening it to a random middle page.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
Becka recounted her experience earlier with the tome, how the glyphs had gone transparent, how there were curious squiggles that had spelled out the word TEA over and over, and then how the book had gone back to normal after Becka had asked Hanna her questions.
“I was hoping we could try getting the book to give up another clue. I feel like it somehow knew about Hanna’s
