The Purple Emperor

CHAPTER FOUR

For some reason, the gown helped Blue put things in perspective. Although she'd taken it off now and was wearing her familiar blouse and britches, she was no longer feeling nearly so frantic about the Coronation arrangements. Admittedly there was still a lot to do, but there were still two weeks to do it in. And it wasn't really fair to say Pyrgus didn't care. It was just that the whole thing upset him. He'd never wanted to be Emperor and he didn't want to be Emperor now, so he avoided thinking about it. And maybe that was all to the good – Pyrgus was capable of making a mess of nearly anything. Better to leave the arrangements to her – she was good at organisation. It wasn't as if she didn't have as much help as she needed. There were -

She turned a corner of the corridor and walked into her half-brother, Comma. There was something on his lips, something he'd been eating, that had turned them bright scarlet. He'd put on weight quite noticeably since their father died.

'Sorry,' Comma muttered. He glanced behind him as if afraid he was being followed, then gave Blue a forced half-smile. 'You're in a hurry, Sweet Sister,' he said.

She hated it when he called her 'Sweet Sister' and her annoyance made her sharp. 'I've a lot to do.' Comma had been no help at all with the arrangements, and while she was prepared to forgive Pyrgus, all Comma did was make her furious.

'There's somebody waiting for you in your bedroom,' Comma said.

Blue blinked. 'How do you know?' What she really wanted to ask was, What were you doing in my bedroom?

Comma shrugged infuriatingly and started to walk on.

'Who is it?' Blue demanded.

He waved to her without looking back. 'I expect it's one of your clever spies,' he said.

'What have you been eating?' Blue shouted. 'What were you doing in my -' But it was too late. He was already turning down a side corridor.

Seething, Blue stamped off towards her quarters.

There was no one in her bedroom except her cleaning maid. She turned to leave, swearing vengeance on Comma for wasting her time, when a tickling in her mind caused her to pause. Blue's eyes flickered round the room and a tingle of fear crawled down her spine. There was something wrong. For a moment she had no idea what, except it felt like something was out of place.

She mentally checked the furnishings. Nothing seemed to have been moved. She looked across at her dressing table. Everything was neatly in its place. Except for the jewel case that held her psychotronic spider which she'd slipped into a drawer, as she always did before the maid came in to clean – Princess Royal or not, psychotronic spiders were illegal, and fearfully dangerous. They could carry your mind so far from your body that you never got it back again.

So nothing different about the dressing table. Blue let her gaze travel around the walls, checking the pictures, lingering on the portrait of her father, feeling the well-spring of sorrow as she looked into the painted eyes. But nothing had been moved. Nothing had changed at all.

And yet something was out of place…

Suddenly she had it. The antique chair that sat beside her bed had disappeared. Blue stared for a moment, then said quietly to the maid, 'I'd like you to finish off some other time, Anna.'

'Yes, Your Royal Highness.' The girl dropped a curtsey and hurried out.

Blue moved cautiously towards her dressing table. There was a dagger in one of the drawers. Not that she was likely to need it. There were always guards close by in these troubled times. But close or not, they would take time to reach her and it was always as well to take responsibility for your own protection.

'You can show yourself now,' she said aloud.

There was a shimmering beyond the bed and Blue's chair reappeared. An extraordinary woman was sitting in it.

'Madame Cynthia!' Blue exclaimed.

'My deeah, you must forgive the invisibility – so ill-mannered of me. But I felt it best not to show myself while the servant remained.'

'Yes, of course,' Blue nodded. Cynthia Cardui, the Realm's famous Painted Lady, was a major contact in Blue's private espionage network, but it was astonishing to see her here in the palace. Madame Cynthia was elderly now, long retired from the stage, and seldom ventured far from her Cheapside apartments. 'Are you alone?'

'I fear so. Kitterick is visiting his relatives, otherwise I might have entrusted him with the mission. He's back tomorrow, but I decided I must undertake it myself. The matter is urgent.'

'Urgent?' Blue echoed. She felt an uncomfortable chill.

'My deeah,' said Madame Cardui, 'you must steel yourself. There is a plot afoot.'

Blue walked across and sat on the edge of the bed. She trusted Madame Cardui more than almost anyone else in the world. The old woman was snobbish and eccentric, but her contacts were legendary and her loyalty absolute. If she said something was going on, Blue was prepared to believe it.

'A brutal conspiracy, my deeah,' Madame Cardui went on. 'One would imagine with Lord Hairstreak routed, Brimstone in hiding and that dreadful creature Chalkhill behind bars, one would have nothing to worry about.' She sighed theatrically. 'Alas, no. I have received information of a plan to kill a member of the royal household.'

The unease Blue had felt since she saw Madame Cardui flowered into chill fear. But she held her voice steady. 'Which member?' she asked.

A look of distress crossed the Painted Lady's face. 'That's the problem, I'm afraid – we don't know.'