Matron Darniss hated to drag Queen Lacurnia away from her daughter. She knew that the other members of the palace staff felt nothing but sympathy for both of them as she took the Queen gently by the arm and urged her to leave the side of the afflicted Princess before the close and prolonged physical proximity caused the parent bond to go into reverse. She also knew that they would have felt completely differently about her if they’d known the real reason for her reluctance. If the parent bond went into reverse, the daughter would begin to raise the mother up the ladder of life, instead of the other way round. The blessing that had afflicted the Princess would be passed on to the Queen and she would also start glowing in the dark. Give it a few months, and there would be two demons in the palace.

     Darniss never tried as hard as she might to drag the two apart, therefore. She allowed the Queen to talk her into being allowed to stay by her daughter's side for a few minutes longer, then a few minutes more, only finally exerting herself when she sensed that the Queen’s handmaid was growing distressed. Great though the temptation was, it was important that no suspicion fall upon herself. If, by some unlikely miracle, the Brigadier did find a cure for the girl, it would be up to her to find a way to sabotage it. She was one of only two agents that the Callowmen had managed to place in the palace and she could not do anything that threatened her position there.

     Today, the Princess seemed to be glowing more brightly than she ever had before, although that might be nothing more than her imagination. A subconscious expression of wish fulfilment. “You must come away now, your Highness,” she insisted. “It has been too long.”

     “She is right, mother,” agreed Princess Ardria, pushing her away with her tiny, white hands. “Please go now. I could not bear the guilt if you...”

     “If I were afflicted, you would not have to suffer alone,” replied the Queen, tears in her eyes. “You would...”

     ‘No!” cried Ardria in horror, breaking free of her mother's embrace and running across the room. ‘Don't even think that! To see you afflicted like this would destroy me!”

     “To see you suffering like this is destroying me!” The Queen reached out to her, and the girl backed away into the very corner of the room, her hands outstretched in a warding off gesture. “If my joining you under this curse would lessen your torment, even by the smallest amount...”

     “It would not! It would make it a thousand times worse! Please, you must go now. Please!”

     “She is right, your Highness,” said Darniss, moving to stand between mother and daughter. “Bogarde says that five hours a day is the absolute maximium. You've been here nearly seven hours. You must leave now.”

     Tearfully, the Queen allowed herself to be dragged away from her daughter. “I'll be back tomorrow,” she promised, as she always did. “There'll always be someone with you. You'll never be alone.” She looked back to the door, where Weena, from the kitchens, was waiting to take her place. She beckoned her forward and the girl crept nervously into the room, as if it contained a nest of venomous snakes. “Look, here’s Weena, come to keep you company.” She turned to the maid. “Talk to her. You must talk to her, you understand? Tell her all the gossip from the kitchens. Don't let her get lonely.”

     “I won't, your Highness.” The maid glanced nervously over at the Princess, as if wondering whether there was a safe distance she should keep. It was the first time she'd been called upon for this duty. Bogarde, the King's wizard, was worried that the other maids were getting too much exposure and had recommended that the duty be shared out among more people. Weena had been horrified when she'd found out. She loved the Princess as much as anyone else in the kingdom, but she had parents and a half raised brother to support and couldn’t allow herself to become afflicted. A command from the Queen could not be refused, though, and so here she was, in the lion's den. Her life being put at risk by a mother who didn’t understand that the one thing her daughter probably wanted more than anything else was to just be left alone for a while.

     The Queen watched as the maid introduced herself to the Princess, then finally allowed herself to be led out of the room. “How could they do this to an innocent girl?” she asked for what must have been the hundredth time. “What did my precious Ardria ever do to deserve this?”

     “They say there are historical grievances,” replied Darniss, thinking of her grandparents who had been aristocrats when this land had been under Callow rule, fifty years before. She remembered having to remove a portrait from the Green Gallery when she'd accepted her first post as a serving maid here, thirty years before. The portrait of Duchess Thelmia. A renowned historical character from before the Helberion conquest whose resemblance to Matron Darniss might well have attracted unwelcome comment. The disappearance of that portrait remained an unsolved mystery to this very day.

     “I don’t care about history! I care about my daughter! You understand that, don’t you? You have a daughter of your own.”

     “Yes, I do, your Highness.” And I want more for her than to serve the descendants of conquerors and murderers. The blood of my ancestors cries out for vengeance!

     “They will be made to pay for this. My daughter will never marry Prince George. Never! It was probably the Prince who ordered this crime. Him or his black hearted father.”

     Matron Darniss knew that to be true. It occurred to her that even if the Princess were to be cured, the wave of hatred towards Callow might serve their purposes just as well. If Helberion withdrew the offer of a royal marriage, Callow could use the insult as an excuse to goad Helberion in other ways. If they could irritate Helberion into declaring war, if even one Helberion soldier set foot on Carrow soil, Carrow could claim to be the injured party and launch a full scale invasion without having to worry about interference from the Kelvon Empire. And after the Carrow victory the position of her family would be restored, as promised.

     “The Brigadier will be successful, won't he?” said the Queen. “He will find a cure, won't he?”

     “If anyone can, he can. I've heard the stories that are told about him. If you will excuse me now, your Highness, I have duties.”

     “Yes, of course. I will be in my chambers.”

     Matron Darniss bowed, then turned and made her way to the servants quarters to consult with Fenby the staff manager. Her direct superior in the palace. So long as she was masquerading as a loyal servant to the King, the daily business of running the palace had to continue smoothly. She had to receive her orders and pass them on to the staff below her. It was dull, demeaning work, but she consoled herself with the thought that better days were coming. Soon, she would be mistress of the palace and would be the one giving the orders.

     Before she could get there, though, she was met in the corridor by Thurley, one of the palace guards. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, looking around to see if they were being observed. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “If you're seen, away from your post...”

     “I’ll say I heard something and went to investigate. Listen, we've got a problem. Pettiwell’s been arrested.”

     Darniss gave a start of alarm and spun around to check the corridor behind her, as if expecting to see the guards coming for her too. The corridor was still empty, though, and she turned back to confront Thurley. “What happened?” she demanded, grabbing him by the elbow and pushing him into an empty storeroom. She went back to the door, glanced both ways up and down the corridor to make sure it was still empty, then closed the door. “What happened?” she repeated.

     “The Besswell house was broken into last week.”

     “So what? That was nothing to do with us.”

     “One of the servants saw the burglar and gave a description to the city guard. The description matched Pettiwell, who'd been seen throwing money around in all the taverns and gambling houses...”

     Darniss swore. “The idiot! Has he said anything?”

     “All I know is what I hear on the streets. Last I heard, the guards are ‘questioning’ him. How long he holds out...”

     “How much does he know? He doesn't know about either of us, does he?”

     “He knows my face. I'm always in civilian clothes when I see him, but he knows my face.” He frowned, searching his memories. “It's possible, from conversations we've had in the past, that he's guessed I'm in the palace guard. Depends on how smart he is.”

     “The man who recommended him says that, while he's not the cleverest man in the world, he does have a certain low cunning. What about me? What does he know about me?”

    “He knows things. Times, places. Things that could lead to you if a clever detective puts it all together.”

     “And with their dear Princess all poorly, they'll have their very best on the case.” She swore again. “You'll have to get him out. Either that or kill him.”

     “How? I'm a member of the palace guard, not the city guard. He'll be in the Lime Street cells. I have absolutely no legitimate reason for going anywhere near the place.”

     “Find a reason, unless you prefer to face the hangman’s noose.”

     “It just can't be done! We have to get out of the country before he talks. It's the only way.”

     “No!” If she ran, all hope of getting her family's nobility restored would be lost forever. King Nilon would see it as weakness, making her unworthy of a place in his country’s aristocracy. Or worse, he might see it as a betrayal. They had to fix this, but how?

     An idea came to her. “If we could get him transferred to the palace cells, you'd have access to him.”

     “How do we do that?”

     “They'll bring him here for interrogation by the King’s own men if they think he's responsible for what happened to the Princess. You could spread some rumours...”

     “He'll panic. He'll tell everything he knows. Try to make a deal with them...”

     “Not if he's smart. Not if he guesses what we're up to. He has to know we'll try to get him out...” Or kill him, she thought but didn’t say. “He’ll keep his mouth shut so long as he still has hope.” She paced up and down the room as she turned things over in her head. “Yes, yes. That's what we'll do. Go back to your guard friends and tell them you heard rumours on the streets that Pettiwell’s responsible for the Princess. If they move him here, tell me immediately.”

     “They'll know I'm a traitor. The moment we break him out they’ll remember that he was brought here because of me. I'd be committing suicide!”

     Darniss paused for a moment in thought, tapping a finger against her lips. “Yes, you won't be able to stay here,” she said. “If suspicion falls upon you and you’re caught, you might name me to save yourself.”

     “I would never...”

     “Shut up. I'll deal with Pettiwell. The moment he’s been transferred to the palace cells, you must leave the city. Return to Carrow and inform Lord Krell what has happened. I expect he'll want to reward you for your years of service. Give you a pension, a new life under a new identity. That sort of thing.”

     Thurley eyes widened with relief. “Very well,” he said eagerly. “I'll see to it. I'd like to say that it’s been a pleasure working with you...”

     “Shut up, you idiot. Just do it.”

     Thurley nodded gratefully, opened the door and marched out into the corridor. Matron Darniss waited a couple of minutes, in case there was someone out there who shouldn’t see the two of them leaving together, and while she waited she thought. Thurley’s departure would leave her alone in the palace, without allies. Krell would try to place another agent in the palace, of course, but that kind of thing took years. In the meantime, she would have no-one to help her if she found herself in difficulty. No-one she could call on for help. All alone, among enemies...

     She felt a thrill of fear shooting up her spine but suppressed it with a surge if anger at herself. Nothing worthwhile was accomplished without risk, and the restoration of her family's name, position and holdings was worth a little risk. Hopefully, once Pettiwell was  dealt with, there would be no further difficulties. She could play the part of loyal palace retainer until Carrow had defeated this upstart little country and she reaped the rewards she had earned.

     She had waited long enough. She opened the door and stepped confidently out into the corridor, and then she continued on her way to the servants‘ quarters with all the stately dignity of the Duchess she was.