  &quot;Dmitri?&quot; I call softly as I reach the top of my ladder to the roof. The weather is unseasonably cool and a light, drizzly rain descends from the clouded night sky. I pull my shawl tighter around my shoulders and shiver. Maybe he won t be up here tonight. But he has to be. I need to talk with him. I need to show him this letter from Kyla. I ll go into his suite if I have to.
  Wherever he might be at the moment, my fiancé is not on the roof at this time. That s all right. I can wait, in spite of the weather. Maybe by the time I go back inside, I will be grateful for Juniper s July fireplace-lighting habit.
  At least this way I have time to process what I overheard while I was meandering towards my suite after supper. I had decided to explore some of the secret passageways I hadn t gotten to yet, which I thought was a safe decision because Wesley and Zinaida ate supper far mo

  &quot;Aerys? Aerys, it s time to get up,&quot; Juniper s voice echoes from somewhere far away. I groan and pull the covers over my head. For once in my life, I am cold in my bed despite all of the overstuffed covers and fluffy blankets on top of me. My head is pounding. &quot;Aerys.... Wait. You never sleep in. I never have to wake you up. Something must be wrong with you. Let me feel your forehead, dear.&quot; She wrestles the covers off of my head and lays a cold hand on my forehead. I hiss and retreat into my blanket cave. Every muscle aches. I think I ll not move that quickly again.
  &quot;Goodness, Aerys, you re burning up!&quot; Juniper declares. &quot;I ll go tell Their Excellencies that you are indisposed and will not be following your usual schedule today. Do you feel like eating anything?&quot;
  &quot;No,&quot; I groan.
  &quot;Of course. Well, I ll send Malina in to keep y

  Rumours are terrible things. I know I should not trust the things I hear from servants when they are conversing with each other and I just happen to be passing by. Indeed, I once heard a servant say, back at Grandmother s chateau, that Zira has devil s hooves instead of feet, which is entirely false (although I can understand how someone might get confused, given Zira s general disposition and the sorts of shoes she generally wears). But rumours about Dmitri and Yekaterina float through the Berkeley mansion like the fog that Giacomo is currently trying to teach me to create. I can t focus on that just now. My mind moves in endless circles from rumour to memory to rumour and back again.
  &quot;She was sitting on his lap during their English lessons. He tried to push her off, but she would not be persuaded. I can t imagine why Their Excellencies let those English lessons go unsupervised

&quot;Dmitri?&quot; I call softly as I reach the top of my ladder to the roof. The weather is unseasonably cool and a light, drizzly rain descends from the clouded night sky. I pull my shawl tighter around my shoulders and shiver. Maybe he won t be up here tonight. But he has to be. I need to talk with him. I need to show him this letter from Kyla. I ll go into his suite if I have to.
  Wherever he might be at the moment, my fiancé is not on the roof at this time. That s all right. I can wait, in spite of the weather. Maybe by the time I go back inside, I will be grateful for Juniper s July fireplace-lighting habit.
  At least this way I have time to process what I overheard while I was meandering towards my suite after supper. I had decided to explore some of the secret passageways I hadn t gotten to yet, which I thought was a safe decision because Wesley and Zinaida ate supper far more quickly than usual and left together with grim expressions; I knew they would not interfere with 

Chapter 48 Tangled Intentions