Even with Consul Beeching’s intercession at the border, there are a lot of casualties. A lot of injuries. Worse, a lot of missing people. It takes days to sort through them all. Quint and Saeth’s family made it safely into Artis, but there’s been no sign of Thorin—or Alice, the girl who tried to help him. There’s been no sign of Violet, and no sign of Nook, the boy who helped when we faced the traitorous guards.
I know some people fled into the other sectors or went into hiding. The rebels were always rather skilled at going to ground and running from the night patrol, and this is no different. Rebel camps have been built along the river in Artis, just outside Sallister’s reach, and Consul Beeching’s guards patrol night and day. There are occasional shouts of joy when people find their way here from where they’ve been hiding and families are reunited. But as days pass and Quint and Karri and I walk among them, accompanied by Beeching’s guards, I know that there are many people who won’t be coming back at all.
By the fourth day, I ask Jonas for guards and horses and an armed escort back into the Wilds. I don’t think Sallister would be brazen enough to attack another consul’s people—if the army remains at all—and I need to see what’s left.
Jonas surprises me by joining us. We ride through the forest, and I’m struck by how deserted the area is. I’ve grown so used to the sounds of children playing, or men chopping wood, or women calling their families for dinner. Every house is deserted.
I’m dismayed to see that many of them have been torched and burned.
The soldiers were thorough.
We come to the small house that Quint and I shared for our last few days in the Wilds—surprisingly untouched—and then the one that Saeth and his family shared—burned to the ground. A tiny stuffed doll lies in the mud about twenty feet from the door, and I recognize it as one I saw Ruby clutching. Saeth isn’t with us, but I climb down from my horse to pluck it from the ground, then knock the dirt from it to tuck in my saddlebag.
As we ride on, I know we’re going to come to the cellar where Sommer was kept, and I’ve been dreading it. I don’t have any idea whether anyone would have released him during the panicked flight from the Wilds—and it might have been reckless to do so. He might have helped our attackers.
But the thought that he might be lying dead in the cellar is almost too much to bear.
Quint must sense my sudden sorrow, because he reaches out and touches my hand, just the tiniest brush of his fingertips. He’s grown very good at these small movements now that we’re surrounded by people of grand importance again, even though I wouldn’t mind larger ones. But I look up.
“Sommer,” I say, and he nods.
Jonas hears the weight in my voice, and of course I’ve told him of the guards who tried to capture us. “Where was he held?”
I nod ahead. “This way.”
“I can have my guards retrieve his body.”
I start to shake my head—then think better of it and nod. “We can at least give him a burial.”
I hold my breath when they pull the cellar doors open, because it has been several days, but instead of the stench of death, we’re confronted by Nook and Violet, armed with pitchforks, blinking in the sunlight.
“Violet!” I say in surprise. I climb down from my horse. “Nook! What are you doing in the—”
But I don’t get any further than that because Violet tackles me with a hug. “Fox! You’re alive!”
Some of the consuls’ guards move forward to remove her, but I lift a hand. “It’s all right. Violet, what are you doing here?”
“We’ve been hiding! They keep sending the night patrol through, so we haven’t been able to leave. We go out at night sometimes to scrounge for food, but no one searches the cellar, so we’ve been staying down there. It sure was dark, I tell you. But we’ve got candles now, and Wolf taught me all the card games he knows—”
“Wolf!” I say in shock.
And then I realize more people are coming up from the cellar, just as dusty and worn as Violet and Nook. Alice, too. Then Thorin, his chest bound up in bandages. His entire frame sags in relief when he sees me. “Your Majesty,” he says.
I’m so relieved to see him that I nearly give him the same greeting that Violet gave me. “Wolf,” I say, extending a hand, and he smiles, reaching out to clasp it.
But then another man follows him out of the cellar, and I remember the reason we came to the cellar at all: Sommer.
He’s not bound anymore, and he looks from me to Thorin to the guards like he wonders if he should flee back down the steps.
Thorin grabs hold of his sleeve and drags him forward before he can. “The night we had to run, I knew I couldn’t go far—and I knew Sommer was trapped down here anyway. I figured I’d wait it out and see what happened. Alice wouldn’t leave me, so she hid down here, too. We could hear the soldiers and the fighting overhead, and I told him what was going on.” He pauses, and his voice grows softer. “It became obvious when people were caught. Sommer told me to cut him loose. He said he’d help.” He pauses again. “So I did. And he did.”
I study them both. They look back at me, but it’s Sommer who looks beseeching.
Eventually, I turn to Nook, and I remember the way the men had him participate in retaliating against Sommer for his role in what happened. His father was one of the men who was killed. He was just as affected as I was.
“Sommer is guilty of treason, Nook. Should we bring him back with us? Has he earned his freedom? Or should I leave him in the cellar?”
Nook’s eyes widen, and he glances between me and Sommer. “You’re leaving it up to me?” he says.
As soon as I hear him say it, I almost take it back. He’s barely sixteen years old, if he’s even that.
But then I realize Corrick was even younger when I named him as King’s Justice, and he had to do a lot worse.
I nod. “Yes. I’m leaving it up to you.”
Nook looks at Sommer. “He stabbed a soldier that was about to shoot me.” He pauses. “And he saved Violet, too. We’re even.”
“Also,” Violet says, “Chickenseed is really bad at cards.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Chickenseed?”
Sommer heaves a sigh and looks at Nook. “Thank you for my life and my nickname.”
Alice giggles.
Thorin looks past me, seeming to realize for the first time that Consul Beeching is by my side, and we’re backed by men who aren’t palace guards. “Have you reclaimed the Royal Sector?”
“Not yet,” I say.
On our ride back, Jonas indicates that he wants to speak privately with me, so we ride ahead of the group, leaving enough distance that we won’t be overheard.
“That girl adores you,” he says to me. “That’s part of why I agreed to help you, you know.”
I look at him. Jonas is older, older than my parents were, and he was never particularly close to them—so he’s never been particularly close to us either. We’ve never had a strained relationship, but of all the consuls, I know him the least well. He’s granted me a lot of assistance. Quite a bit more than I expected. He even sent food and sundries to the homes of my guards when I asked, when I fully expected him to balk at something that would so openly defy restrictions that have been put in place by others. I’ve been keenly aware that his help now will likely have ramifications later, like a debt to be repaid. So I’m not sure what to make of that comment.
“You just met her,” I say.
“It doesn’t matter. I’ve seen the way the people from the Wilds look at you when you walk among them. I think they would all hug you like that if they could.” He pauses. “We’ve all seen Arella’s proof, and it’s rather convincing. I do believe your parents had devised quite the plan to fleece silver from the people, and they were working with Nathaniel Sallister and Lissa Marpetta to do it.” He studies me in the sunlight. “I do not, however, think that you or Prince Corrick had anything to do with it. In all honesty, I don’t believe there’s anything Allisander Sallister can say to convince me otherwise. Unfortunately, he and some of the others refuse to yield in their claims that you did. I’m worried about what that might mean for the future of Kandala.”
My spine goes cold when he says that.
Because he’s ultimately talking about civil war.
“Why don’t you believe Sallister?” I say.
“Because despite your aloof demeanor, I simply don’t believe you would be poisoning the people when you genuinely seem to care for them.” He gestures at everyone following us. “That girl’s reaction to your arrival spoke volumes. I saw you pick up that doll. I heard you consider burying your treasonous guard. And it’s not just now. When you rejected my funding request for the bridge last month, it was obviously for the protection of—”
“When I rejected your request,” I say flatly, “you said I was heartless.”
He breaks off in surprise, then looks over, and I have no trouble holding his gaze.
“Don’t try to deny it,” I say. “I remember.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. I did say it.” He lets out a breath. “But I wasn’t talking about you. Or—not entirely. I was angry. We truly do need a bridge, and Sallister was accusing me of trying to manipulate my proposal for my own profit, when he’s the one who is always after every coin.” He grimaces and looks away. “But I’m ashamed to admit that when I reviewed my proposal later, I discovered that our engineers had inflated the numbers. I still don’t know if it was deliberate or an oversight, but you and Prince Corrick were right to reject it.”
I’m not sure what to say to this. We ride on in silence for a while.
Jonas eventually looks over. “I simply don’t believe their claims because if you were in on it, there’d be no reason for Sallister to stop. There would’ve been no reason for you to risk your life in the sector on the day the rebels attacked the palace. There would’ve been no reason for you to offer amnesty. You could’ve had the army kill the rebels. You could’ve had them kill us all. But you didn’t.”
“I had no idea about the poison, Jonas. I wish I did.” I swallow, and my throat is tight. I think about Quint’s years of notes about all the ways I’ve tried to protect everyone—and all the ways I’ve failed. My brother’s years of doing horrific vicious things until he was broken and couldn’t take it anymore. I think of all the loss and pain and suffering that my people endured. “I would have stopped it the very instant I took the throne.”
“I know,” he says. “And that’s what I’ve been telling Arella and Roydan. They’ve requested to speak with you this evening.”
My shoulders immediately go tense as I remember the conversation I overheard. I know Sallister is working against me, but he’s doing it in poor faith. Arella and Roydan are different. They genuinely do have proof that points to the royal family, and Arella has always been openly critical of our methods to keep smuggling activity to a minimum.
They have no motivation to help me.
“What did you tell them?” I say.
“I said I would ask if you were receiving visitors.”
So he allowed me the chance to refuse—and to refuse privately.
I want to. Everything, as usual, is still so precarious.
But a refusal, I know, would imply guilt. I draw a slow breath. “Please send word that I’ll welcome their company.”
By the time Roydan and Arella arrive, I’ve spun myself into knots. I’ve asked Jonas for the room to be mostly empty of guards, because I don’t want to heighten any tensions. I have Thorin and Saeth at the wall, with Quint seated beside me, his book and pencil ready. I’m so grateful for his presence, and I realize I’ve always been grateful for his presence.
Jonas didn’t bring any guards of his own to the room, but Roydan and Arella did. A servant pours wine and tea and lays out a tray of pastries, and we all sip and stir and exchange pleasantries like this is a social visit, until I’m ready to explode from the pressure of it all. But they asked for this meeting, so I wait.
“Your Majesty, I believe I should be direct,” Arella finally says.
Do you really think thirty minutes of pleasantries could be considered direct?I want to say. But I don’t.
“Please,” I say.
“Jonas has been urging us to consider that you were unaware of the actions of your parents, specifically your father.”
“I was,” I say quietly. “I don’t have a way to prove it to you, but I was.”
“Your penalties were always very harsh,” she says. “Prince Corrick’s actions were never subtle. You know I have always been an outspoken advocate for change.” She pauses. “It was alarming to hear rumors that the King’s Justice was secretly moving among the populace as an outlaw himself.”
“I’ve heard those rumors,” I say carefully.
“Some people say he did that in an attempt to capture more of the people,” she says. “To punish those who might have uncovered his wrongdoings.”
I look right back at her. “I hope you know we have always heard your concerns, Arella. We may have been harsh, but I hope you believe that I have been fair. That my brother has been just.” I pause. “If Prince Corrick was moving among the people as one of them, it wasn’t to cause harm.”
She’s quiet for a moment, studying me, but I meant every word, and I don’t look away. “When I discovered the shipping logs from Trader’s Landing,” she says, “I wasn’t sure what to believe. A tremendous amount of steel had been shipped to unknown cities over the course of decades, and there were notes from Consul Montague about side promises with unknown cities, as well as some correspondence with King Lucas that seems to indicate some argument over who would receive the greatest share of the profits. It wasn’t until we found a note about the means to infuse the poisonous roots of the Moonflower into the water supply that we began to suspect the worst.”
“Of me,” I say.
She nods. “Yes.” She pauses. “Some of the correspondence is inconclusive, and with your parents dead, and Consul Montague dead, we may never have the full picture of it, Your Majesty. But you’ve been removed from the throne and the poisoning has stopped, and word has begun to spread among the sectors. It’s rather damning.”
“As planned,” I say evenly, though my stomach has formed a knot.
“Possibly,” she concedes. “Especially since some of the notes from Montague—and others—indicate some not-so-veiled threats on your life when you were a child, using this very same poison.”
I’ve gone still, and the silence in the room is thick. Even Quint, at my side, has stopped writing.
Jonas clears his throat. “Your frequent illness as a child was never a secret,” he says.
“And as much as you’ve tried to hide it as an adult,” Arella adds, “it was still obvious to those of us in your inner circle.”
She pulls a folded piece of parchment from under the table and slides it across to me.
Look what it’s done to your son. This is what you want to do to your people.
–Barnard
I’m frozen in place. It’s not proof of anything—but it also is. I think of all the times we visited Consul Montague when I was a child, or the times he’d visit the palace. I try to remember if I felt more sickly then, but it’s been too long. There’s no way to know.
“So you think Barnard Montague tried to assassinate them to stop them?” I say.
She exchanges a glance with Jonas and Roydan. “There’s no way to be sure. And he wasn’t without fault. He was clearly skimming profits from whatever trade deals he’d made with Ostriary for steel. Some of those records go back to your grandfather’s reign. Possibly even older. It’s taken us weeks to go through everything. They hid the evidence well.”
“From me as well,” I say. “I had no idea. Truly. I hope you believe me.”
She studies me for a long time, but it’s Roydan who speaks, and he leans over and pats me on the hand like I’m a child. “I do. You were dealt a rough hand. You’ve done your best.”
I look at him in surprise. He’s so old, and I’ve known him since . . . well, since birth. I know he occasionally dotes on Corrick, but he’s never really done it to me.
Arella sighs. “I do, too.”
I snap my head around to look at her.
“I do,” she says again. “When I first discovered proof, it seemed obvious that this had been a long-running plot between you and Consul Sallister. Again, your penalties were so swift and brutal. Baron Pepperleaf’s daughter seemed to be an ally of the people, because she was so interested in Tessa Cade’s medicine. I shared my records with her, and she told me Captain Huxley had information on the king.” She hesitates. “But as time has gone on . . . I’ve wondered if the opposite could be true. That Laurel Pepperleaf was interested in Miss Cade’s medicine because she was worried she would discover the truth about the poison. Because it has become clear that Captain Huxley has been on Consul Sallister’s payroll for years to feed him information about the king. Both Allisander and his father before him.”
The more I learn about Sallister, the more I want to see him at the end of a rope. I turn my head. “Thorin, why did you and the rest of my guards close ranks against Captain Huxley?”
“Because he couldn’t be trusted.”
Arella’s mouth forms a line.
I sit back in my chair. “You and Roydan have been quietly reviewing these shipping logs for quite some time now. When you suspected poison, you didn’t consider coming to ask me directly?”
“I should have,” she says. “And I wish I did. Because now Sallister has taken residence in the palace and he’s practically sitting on the throne himself.”
I make a disgusted sound. “I suppose I’m lucky I didn’t find him sleeping in my bed.”
Her eyes flare. “That was you!”
“Yes.”
She sighs and glances between me and Jonas. “Well, as Jonas said, it has become clear that you couldn’t have been poisoning the people. If you were in the palace, you surely noticed that the halls were empty. Most of the staff has resigned. Your personal guard—”
“I know what they’ve done to my personal guard,” I say darkly.
She clears her throat. “Yes. Captain Huxley has maintained as many guards as he could, but nowhere near the number that once lined the halls. I wouldn’t trust anyone who remains.”
“I wouldn’t either.”
“Allisander may believe he has power now, but he does not have the support you once did.”
My eyebrows go up. “So are you saying that you will join Consul Beeching? You will support my claim to the throne?”
“I will,” Roydan says.
Arella nods. “As will I.”
Despite the relief in my heart, their voices carry the weight of unspoken dread, of more to say, and I hold my breath.
“There is more you need to know,” Arella continues. “Allisander still has the means to continue poisoning the people. He can spread it through the water and weaken the populace again, claiming that perhaps someone else is now working against Kandala—either Consul Beeching, or me, or even you yourself, as retaliation for his actions. When he heard we were coming to speak with you, he threatened to release more poison immediately. He controls access to the cure, so he could weaken our defenses while fortifying his own.”
My fist is tight against the table. At my side, Quint is writing furiously.
“Allisander has also revealed that word has reached the palace that the lookouts at Port Karenin have spotted a ship in the ocean flying the Kandalan flag.”
Corrick.I gasp aloud. Quint snaps his head up.
Arella nods. “I’ve sent word to Sunkeep to verify the reports, but the ship will arrive before my runners will.”
My heart is pounding so hard in my chest. “How soon?”
“Within days. But Your Majesty, you must—”
“Days!” My brother is returning within days. My heart wants to explode with so many emotions. “You’ve known this since we sat down?” I demand.
“I have.” She lifts a placating hand. “His arrival will not be simple. Consul Sallister and Baron Pepperleaf have access to armed brigantines. They’re prepared to destroy the ship upon arrival unless you surrender to them at dawn tomorrow.”
Every muscle in my body ices over.
“Artis has ships,” says Jonas. “We can attempt to form a blockade across the Queen’s River—”
“And wage a cannon battle right here at the docks,” I say. “We’ll kill half the people we just rescued.” I run a hand across my face. “And he’ll release his poison anyway.”
The room goes so still. So silent. I think of Violet springing out of that cellar to throw her arms around me.
“So I am to sacrifice myself or I am to sacrifice my brother,” I say quietly.
She nods.
It’s no choice at all really. Cory has been sacrificing himself for me for years. I know what I have to do.
“Tell him I’ll surrender,” I say.
The room erupts with protests. Jonas, my guards, even Arella and Roydan.
But not Quint. His eyes are dark and fixed on mine.
Because he knows. He knows I won’t be swayed from this.
He said it himself.
You love your brother so very,very much.
“Enough,” I say, and they fall silent. “Tell him. I will arrive at the palace at dawn. I will be alone. I want assurance that no brigantines will sail the river, and Jonas, I want your sailors patrolling twenty miles north and south of the docks to be sure of it. You tell Allisander that if we spot one single sail, I will not appear. Those are my terms.”
Arella nods. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
I look at Jonas. “I want my brother to arrive safely, and I expect you to honor your alliance with me and continue it with him.”
He stares at me, his eyes wide, but he nods as well. “I will. I swear it.”
My heart won’t stop pounding. I look at Arella and Roydan. “Go. I expect a report back by midnight that he accepts.” My thoughts are spinning now, and I barely know what I’m saying. “Consuls, if you’ll excuse me, I need to spend the evening preparing.”
I don’t even wait for a response to this; I simply stand and head for the door. Quint and the guards follow me, but my pulse is a thundering rush in my ears, so I have no idea if they’re speaking.
Despite everything, I’m somehow still shocked when Quint follows me right into my sleeping quarters. I brace my shoulders against the wall and run my hands through my hair and try not to scream.
He catches the door before it can slam shut, then eases it closed. He stops right in front of me and takes hold of my wrists.
“Breathe,” he says. “You don’t have to go alone.”
“I do,” I say. “I do. He’s not going to imprison me. He’s going to hang me, Quint. He’s going to do it as publicly as possible. He’ll hang anyone who comes with me, you know that—”
“I do know that.” His voice is so quiet, his hands so gentle against my wrists. “I’ll go with you.”
I stare into his eyes. I wasted so much time.
“Tell me what you need,” he whispers.
“I need you to stay,” I say, and my voice breaks. “I need you to stay for Corrick.” Quint is shaking his head, and I add, “You told me you would deny me nothing, Quint.”
He goes still. He sighs.
“Please,” I say. “Please.” I swallow tightly, and it hurts. “It—it would help me to know that my brother wasn’t alone.”
Quint stares back at me, and finally, he nods. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
Out of anything he could say, that jars me out of my emotion for a fraction of a second. “Oh, for goodness’ sake, Quint, still?”
He blinks, and I realize his eyes are gleaming with tears. “But this is the most regal thing you’ve ever done.”
“Lord.” I press a thumb to his cheek and brush away the first tear that dares to fall. “No tears yet. If I’m going to die at dawn, there’s work to be done.”
He blinks in surprise, then pulls his little book from his jacket. “All right. Go ahead.”
I take the book from his hands, but gently this time, no tussling. Then I kiss him softly. “No,” I say. “No book, no notes. You rest.”
He frowns. “You know I won’t sleep.”
“Very well.” I step away, moving toward the desk in the corner of the room, which has been stocked with a rather impressive set of fountain pens and papers and an entire array of wax seals. “Tonight, it’s my turn to write.”
I have so many things to say to Corrick, and my thoughts can barely contain them all. He’ll be returning to a country that’s still divided, on the brink of war yet again. He’ll have to rule. He’ll have to lead. I tell him everything that’s transpired, but a lot of other things, too. A lot of things I wish I’d told him when he was here. A lot of things I’ll never have the chance to say.
Quint sits with me and writes a few letters of his own, but I keep going, well into the night, and eventually he does rest. Despite his promise not to sleep, he drifts off, too, his breathing slow and even.
I write on.
As I near the end, I look out the window at the darkness, thinking back on every moment I spent with my brother at my side. Every moment we’ll never have again.
And it gives me an idea.
