The night air struck my exposed skin like cold water, raising gooseflesh along my arms and legs as we slipped from the palace's side entrance into the moonlit courtyard.
I clutched my borrowed robe tightly around my nightgown, acutely aware of how little fabric separated my body from the elements—and from any observer who might happen upon two women conducting midnight reconnaissance in thoroughly scandalous attire.
Theodora, naturally, strode through the shadows as though parading through a formal garden party. The wind caught her untied robe, lifting the silk to reveal the thin nightgown beneath, and she made not the slightest effort to preserve modesty.
Moonlight transformed her into something mythological—a goddess of mischief descended to torment mortals with her utter disregard for propriety.
"Must you walk quite so confidently?" I hissed, hurrying to match her pace while simultaneously attempting to hold my robe closed against treacherous breezes. "Someone might see us at any moment."
"Then they shall observe two ladies enjoying a constitutional," Theodora replied with maddening unconcern. "The hour proves unconventional, certainly, but hardly criminal."
"In nightclothes, Theodora. We are wandering the palace grounds in nightclothes."
"Details."
She waved dismissively, her attention fixed upon the servants' wing ahead.
"Besides, the guards in this sector are notoriously unobservant. Edmund chose his route with characteristic caution—anyone could admire his tradecraft if the circumstances weren't so deliciously compromising."
I caught her arm, forcing her to pause beneath a shadowed archway.
"Perhaps we should reconsider this entire enterprise. Edmund's private affairs are precisely that—private. What right have we to interfere in matters that concern only himself and... whoever awaits him?"
Theodora's expression shifted into something harder, more calculating than I had previously observed. "You speak as though privacy exists within palace walls. How charmingly naive."
She turned to face me fully, moonlight catching the sharp angles of her features.
"Royal children learn certain truths from the cradle, Beatrice. We learn that knowledge is power, that secrets become currency, and that leverage over family members often proves the only protection against far more ruthless predators."
"Surely family loyalty…"
"Family loyalty?"
Her laugh carried genuine bitterness.
"My mother would sacrifice any of us for political advantage without hesitation. My father views his children as chess pieces to be deployed according to strategic necessity.”
The cynicism in her voice struck me like a physical blow.
"The only protection we possess against such calculating parents is equally calculating awareness of one another's vulnerabilities. That seems a rather bleak interpretation of familial bonds."
"Bleak, perhaps. But accurate. Edmund's indiscretion, once known, becomes insurance against future betrayal."
She resumed walking, and I followed despite considerable misgivings.
"Not because I intend immediate exposure, but because uncertainty about my intentions will ensure his... cooperation in matters where sibling support might otherwise prove unreliable."
We approached the servants' quarters through carefully maintained shadows, Theodora's familiarity with the route suggesting previous nocturnal expeditions I preferred not to contemplate.
Through a partially open window, warm candlelight spilled into the darkness, accompanied by low voices that carried unmistakable intimacy.
Edmund stood with his back to us, his arms wrapped around a young woman in simple servant's attire.
Their embrace spoke not of mere physical arrangement but of genuine tenderness—the way his hand cradled her face, the gentle manner she leaned into his touch. Whatever existed between them extended far beyond convenient satisfaction of bodily needs.
"Please," the young woman was saying, her voice thick with emotion. "You cannot keep risking discovery. If the Queen were to learn…"
"The Queen shall learn nothing." Edmund's voice carried protective fierceness that transformed my understanding of him entirely. "I will find a way, Margaret. I swear it upon everything I hold sacred."
"Your promises cannot alter reality, my lord... I am a servant—you are a prince. Such chasms cannot be bridged by affection alone."
"Then we shall build the bridge from other materials." He kissed her forehead with devastating tenderness. "Trust me. Please."
The moment Edmund released her and turned toward departure, Theodora stepped from concealment with characteristic dramatic timing.
"How remarkably touching, brother. I find myself quite moved by such passionate declarations."
Edmund's face drained of color so completely that I feared he might collapse. "Theodora. What… How long have you—"
"Long enough." She moved closer with the predatory grace I had begun to recognize as her natural state. "Margaret, is it? A pretty name for a pretty girl. Tell me, Edmund, how long has this particular arrangement persisted? Weeks? Months?"
"That is none of your concern."
"On the contrary, it concerns me greatly."
Theodora circled him slowly, her expression calculating.
"A married prince conducting clandestine affairs with palace servants creates complications that affect the entire family... Should scandal emerge, we all suffer the consequences of your romantic inclinations."
"There will be no scandal," Edmund insisted, though his voice carried the hollow certainty of someone desperately hoping words might create reality. "We have been extraordinarily careful."
"Careful enough that two women in nightgowns observed your tender farewell from fifty paces?" Theodora's eyebrow arched with devastating effect. "Your tradecraft requires considerable refinement, brother."
I stepped forward, unable to bear the anguish in Edmund's expression any longer. "Perhaps we might discuss this matter with greater compassion? Clearly the situation involves genuine feeling rather than mere…"
"Beatrice, darling, your instinct toward mercy does you credit, but mercy without strategic awareness becomes a weakness that others exploit."
Theodora's tone softened, though her words carried steel beneath silk.
"Edmund must understand that his secret now rests in hands that might prove either protective or destructive, depending entirely upon future circumstances."
"You would blackmail your own brother?"
"I would ensure mutual understanding regarding the value of family cooperation."
Theodora turned back to Edmund with something approaching sisterly affection beneath her calculating exterior.
"Consider this conversation insurance, dear brother. Your secret remains safe so long as I find sibling loyalty forthcoming when required. We understand one another, yes?"
Edmund's jaw tightened, but he nodded curtly. "Perfectly."
"Excellent. Now do run along—Margaret appears rather distressed by this interruption, and I suspect comforting words are in order." Theodora waved dismissively. "We shall speak no more of tonight's discoveries unless circumstances demand otherwise."
Edmund departed with barely concealed fury, pausing only to cast a single venomous glance toward his sister before disappearing into shadows. The servant girl, Margaret, had already fled, leaving Theodora and me alone in the moonlit courtyard.
"How could you?" The words emerged before I could temper them. "Your own brother, clearly suffering genuine attachment, and you treat his vulnerability as currency to be hoarded?"
Theodora turned toward me, and something in her expression shifted from calculation to hunger. "You find my pragmatism distasteful?"
"I find it cold. Manipulative. Entirely lacking in the compassion family members owe one another."
"And you find such coldness... unappealing?" She moved closer, her voice dropping to intimate registers that made my pulse quicken despite my indignation. "How fascinating. Your naivety proves remarkably charming, Beatrice. Almost irresistibly so."
"This is hardly the moment for…"
"On the contrary."
Her hand rose to cup my cheek, thumb tracing my lower lip with devastating gentleness.
"Your passionate defense of Edmund's romantic entanglement, your genuine distress at my strategic thinking—such sweetness would be devoured within a fortnight at court without proper protection."
"I am not sweet," I protested weakly, even as my body responded to her proximity with predictable enthusiasm.
"You are extraordinarily sweet."
She pressed me backward until a cool stone met my shoulders, the courtyard wall solid against my spine.
"Sweet and naive and utterly unprepared for the ruthlessness that surrounds you. Which is precisely why you need someone willing to be ruthless on your behalf."
Her thigh pressed between mine, creating contact that sent electricity cascading through my nervous system. I gasped at the sudden intimacy, my hands rising instinctively to grip her shoulders.
"Theodora, we cannot… Someone might see!.."
"Then you shall need to remain quiet." Her lips found my neck, tracing the same paths she had explored in her chambers before Edmund's interruption. "Can you manage that, I wonder? Or has your body's awakening progressed beyond such restraint?"
Her mouth moved lower, pressing heated kisses to the exposed skin above my nightgown's neckline while her thigh maintained maddening pressure against my most sensitive places.
I bit my lip, determined to prove capable of discretion even as sensation threatened to overwhelm rational thought entirely.
But when her teeth grazed the curve of my breast through thin fabric, a moan escaped my throat—loud enough to echo off the courtyard stones, wanton enough to make me clap my hand over my mouth in horrified mortification.
Theodora's laughter rang through the darkness—delighted, triumphant, and somehow the most beautiful sound I had ever heard.
"It appears," she murmured against my flushed skin, "that our educational sessions have proven remarkably effective in awakening your suppressed desires."