It’s nearly dawn by the time I crawl into bed, but that doesn’t stop the guards from rapping at my door at an hour past dawn, announcing that Consul Sallister has arrived.
“I believe we were to play chess, were we not?” Allisander calls. I wish I could order his execution.
But we play in my quarters, the re snapping in the hearth, a serving girl bringing us sugared pastries and boiled eggs and pouring cup aer cup of black tea. I expect Allisander to be full of demands, seeking promises, but he’s oddly quiet. Tension hangs over the room, and I can’t tell if it’s between me and him, or if it’s all in my head. Every move we make on the chessboard feels like a precursor to battle.
I think of Tessa’s censorious eyes last night, and I have to shake off her judgment. As much as I hate Allisander, I need him. Kandala needs him.
For now.
e thought makes my heart pound. Harristan can’t undermine his consuls, but if we can stop the attacks and nd out the source of funding—if we can ease some of the tensions in the sectors—then maybe we can formulate a new way to move forward.
But tensions are higher than ever, and the night patrol is on high alert. If Wes and Tessa return to the Wilds, the risk would be immense.
I look at the self-indulgent man in front of me. e risk is immense either way. e Benefactors have to be connected to someone from the Royal Sector—I just don’t know who else would have the silver to spend on revolution. But the consuls are all close to Harristan. I can’t imagine any of them paying citizens to revolt when any of them would have an opportunity to put a knife in my brother themselves. It would be cheaper. Simpler. Faster.
I think of that stack of letters Quint brought to Harristan on the day we were set to execute eight smugglers. Nearly two hundred letters—a lot of unhappy people crying for change.
Arella’s was among them. Her feelings about the executions have been made quite clear. She would never attack Harristan.
But she’s got a so spot for the people, for those who are suffering. And she’s been having secret meetings with Roydan.
ey all ask for money when someone is denied funding. Allisander implicated Jonas Beeching—but Arella was pretty quick.
I’ve fallen so deep in thought that I’m startled when Allisander speaks into the silence. “I’m surprised you had time for a game, Corrick.”
“I made you a promise,” I say breezily. “You make a lot of promises.”
My hand goes still on a chess piece. ere’s a note in his voice I can’t quite
gure out, and it draws my gaze up from the board. “I do my best to keep them all.”
“Indeed? To whom?”
He looks . . . smug. Or something close to it. He’s honestly a terrible chess player, but I’ve been letting him win for the last half an hour simply because I didn’t think it would be a good idea to poke at his pride.
Now feels like a good time to stop.
“I don’t know what you mean.” I move my rook in position to capture his king. “Check.”
He moves his king one square to the right. “I’ve looked into this girl of yours.”
My blood goes cold, but I shrug and study the board. “She is not mine.”
He leans in, his eyes seeking mine with vicious intensity. “She isn’t an apothecary. She works for a charlatan who peddles cheap skin remedies.”
I’m frozen in place. I don’t know what to say. I knew Tessa was her real name, but the shop where she works is outside the Wilds, well away from here. She never worried about anyone we were helping identifying her, surely.
Or maybe she never worried because she wouldn’t have been at risk the way I was.
I move my rook again. “Regardless of her employment, she has brought theories to Harristan. eories that may—”
“e woman who owns the shop indicated that Tessa was distraught aer the failed execution. She said that the girl told her friend she was pregnant with a smuggler’s baby.”
Of all the things he could have said, that’s the most unexpected. I almost burst out laughing. “Truly, Allisander? You believe she’s pregnant with a smuggler’s baby and she found herself in the palace for . . . what, exactly? Last night in the salon half the courtiers thought she was pregnant with Harristan’s baby, so perhaps we should make a wager—”
“I’m not a fool, Corrick.” His voice is level and cold.
I draw myself up and stare back at him. He’s too close to the truth. If it were about me, I’d laugh him right out of my quarters. But it’s not about me. It’s about Tessa.
“Arella and Roydan have made it very clear that they do not take issue with these smugglers,” Allisander says, his tone unchanged. “Consul Cra overheard them getting into a carriage together. ey clearly believe the Crown has taken too harsh a stance on thievery and illegal dealings.”
“is is idle gossip, Allisander. Consul Cherry has made no secret of how she feels.”
He pushes his chess piece one space to the le, then brings his gaze to meet mine again. “Aer your behavior in the Hold, I suspect you have begun to think the same.”
He’s drawing the wrong conclusions in so many ways—but the worst part is that I can’t give him the right ones. My heart pounds against my ribs as I remember the way I slit those throats last night. I’m beginning to wonder if Allisander will never be satis ed until we’re executing anyone who dares to look at him askance. “You saw me in the Hold last night.”
“I did. You looked like you wanted to cry.”
“You looked like you wanted to vomit. Ah, forgive me. You did vom—”
He slams a hand on the chessboard, and the pieces rattle and topple. My king falls to the oor. He inhales ercely.
But then he stops.
e anger in his gaze speaks volumes, however, and I hold my breath and wait. I’m not sure what he was going to say, but I hope it’s something so brutally treasonous that I could call a guard in here to run him through on the spot.
But he doesn’t. And I don’t. We sit there in frozen fury for the longest moment, until the guards rap at my door to announce Harristan.
I want to wither with relief. My brother could ask me to read every single document in the palace while standing on my head, and I’d do it willingly if it would get me out of this conversation with Consul Sallister.
Harristan doesn’t wait for a response; he just strides into my quarters before the guards have nished speaking.
Allisander rises to his feet and smooths his jacket, any hint of anger vanishing. “Harristan.”
I can’t read his voice. I don’t know if he’s glad my brother is here—or disappointed. But Harristan looks back at him, and his voice is even. “Consul.”
For one brief second, I think Allisander is going to needle him the way he was needling me. But he must still hold some respect for my brother, because he takes in Harristan’s curt response and cold demeanor, and he turns wicked eyes my way. “ank you for the game, Corrick. We will pick it up at another time.”
I don’t know what to say, and he doesn’t wait for an answer. He exits through the door, and I’m alone with my brother.
I’m surprised to nd the air between us is as prickly as it was with Allisander. It must be on my side: displeasure tinged with disappointment that my brother wasn’t the one to nd me in the Hold. It’s ridiculous and foolish for me to have even hoped for such a thing—but I did, and I can’t seem to let it go.
en my brother speaks.
“Rocco reported that he found you in a destroyed section of the Hold last night, with no guards. What were you doing?”
is is startling, and not at all what I expected him to say. I begin gathering the marble chess pieces to place them in their velvet and gold box. “Your guards gossip worse than mine do, Harristan.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
I don’t know how to answer his question. We can’t afford to appear weak now, of all times. Each chess piece clinks into the box until Harristan steps over to the table and snaps the lid closed.
“Talk to me.” ere’s a tone of command in his voice, one I’m used to hearing—but never directed at me.
Two chess pieces remain in my hand, and I slide them over each other in my palm. I give him a sidelong glance. “Am I speaking to my brother, or am I speaking to the king?”
“Both.”
Maybe I was wrong before. Maybe the tension isn’t all on my side.
I stand and set the chess pieces on the table, then offer him a ourishing bow. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I had no idea this was an official meeting.”
“Corrick.” His tone is unyielding. I didn’t want to kill those prisoners. I don’t want to do this anymore.
I don’t want you to need me to do this anymore. is can’t be how Father would have wanted us to lead.
I can’t say any of that. “ere were few guards le in the Hold aer the attacks,” I say. “e few that remained were needed to remove the bodies.” I pause. “Are your guards to be your spies now?”
“Do they need to be?”
I don’t have to pretend to be offended at the question. “No!” “at girl didn’t want you to kill those prisoners—”
“Neither did Arella and Roydan,” I snap. “Send your guards to eavesdrop on them.”
“—and she asked Rocco to take her to nd you in the Hold. Why?”
Because she saw through me. Because she knew I was a breath away from shattering. Because her hope hasn’t burned away into nothing.
I can’t say any of that either.
Harristan takes a step closer to me. “I thought this was a simple dalliance,” he says, his tone low. “An infatuation, maybe, that got away from you. I was willing to overlook it.”
I move to the side table and uncork the brandy. I want to pour it straight down my throat, but I have the sense to use a glass. “But your guard has convinced you otherwise?”
“You spend a great deal of time in the Hold, speaking with smugglers. I
nd it an interesting coincidence that when the night patrol caught a small operation, half of them were able to call for rebellion and escape. And when Allisander caught another group, they were able to set the sector on re while being rescued.”
My hand goes still on the glass as the impact of these words becomes clear. Even still, I can’t quite believe it. I turn around. “What are you asking me, Harristan?”
“Are you involved with these smugglers somehow? Do you know anything about the thieves who’ve been plaguing the sector?”
e world seems to tilt on its axis, just for the barest moment. I’m destroying myself for the sake of my brother, and he’s all but accusing me of treason.
e worst part is that he’s not wrong. Not entirely. I drain the glass of brandy and pour another.
He moves close. His voice drops. “Tell me, Cory. If you’re doing this— whatever they’ve promised you—”
All of my anger ares. I whirl, plant my hands on his chest, and shove him as hard as I can. “Get out.”
He stumbles back a step, surprise plain on his face. en he coughs. Hard.
He puts a hand to his chest.
For an instant, panic replaces all the anger. He sucks in a breath, and it sounds like he’s breathing through a cupful of water.
“Harristan,” I whisper.
He grabs hold of the back of a chair and ghts to breathe.
I did this. I did this. Tessa said he was ne, but he’s clearly not. I move to surge past him to shout for a physician.
Harristan seizes my sleeve and draws me up short. “Tell me,” he gasps. His eyes are dark and intent on mine.
And a little desperate.
“I’m not working with the smugglers,” I say. “I would never betray you. I have never betrayed you. I swear it.”
He stands there ghting to breathe, until his grip on my sleeve feels less like a demand and more like a plea.
“I swear,” I say again, my voice soer. “I swear.”
For the rst time in what feels like an hour, he draws a full breath. His grip eases. He nods and straightens.
He’s not dying. I didn’t kill him. Relief is potent, but some of my rage slips back into my chest, turning my voice rough. “Why would you think that?”
“Because you’re hiding something from me.” He hesitates. “And Allisander expressed concern—”
“at son of a bitch.”
“You can’t blame him. You’ve changed these last few weeks.”
My brother’s voice is still a bit thin, a bit reedy. I look at him. “I have always worked in your interest, Harristan. Always.” I pause, remembering the moments I stood in the deserted chamber of the Hold and wished for my brother to appear. How I wished for him to see how this was destroying me as effectively as the fever is destroying all of Kandala.
But he didn’t. He’s not seeing it even now.
I straighten, and I don’t even have to try to tinge my voice with regret. “Sic your guards on me if you must. Measure my every movement. Attend every interrogation. Tether your horse to mine if you like. I commit very little treason on the toilet, but if you want to be absolutely thorough—”
“Cory.” He draws a breath, then hesitates.
I stare back at him, and I wonder if he can read the emotion in my eyes. I remember when we were young, how we’d sneak into the Wilds, how he’d lead and I’d follow, but I always felt an obligation to protect him. Some of it was due to growing up beside a brother whose health was monitored and protected and worried over for so long. Some of it was due to the fact that he would one day be king, and I would not. It’s an obligation I still feel, and it seeps into every action I take. I thought he knew that.
For the rst time, I feel as though he has betrayed me.
Maybe he can see it, because he lets that breath out slowly. He claps me on the shoulder, giving my arm a gentle squeeze. “Forgive me. Please.”
I nod.
But something has fractured between us.
I think he must feel the same, because he holds on for a moment too long, then steps back and turns for the door.
I should tell him everything about Tessa. About Weston. e words burn in my throat.
en again, maybe that would con rm all his worries. I am committing treason, brother, I’ve been committing it for years.
I swallow the words. I swallow my anger. I swallow my disappointment. When the king pauses at the door to glance back, the King’s Justice looks back at him.
Once he’s gone, and I go for the door to have a message sent for Quint, I
nd Rocco there guarding my door.
 |
Hours pass. Quint doesn’t arrive.
I’m not desperate enough to send word to Tessa, because every syllable will be scrutinized and reported back to my brother, and I can’t think of anything to say that won’t bolster his suspicion. I also don’t want to leave my room with my brother’s guards trailing behind me, because I know it will generate gossip: either people will think we’re more at risk because of the explosions at the Hold, or they’ll think Harristan is doing exactly what he’s doing.
I don’t like either option.
I’m also petty enough to like the idea of Rocco having to stand outside my door for hours on end, because it’s interminably boring.
Only slightly more boring than sitting in here by myself. I’ve been spending the time reviewing the documents that Tessa abandoned, and discovering nothing new. Tessa was right: no one will speak to me like this, but they’ll speak to Wes and Tessa.
I’m dgety and eager for nightfall.
Quint nally appears when I’m debating whether I’m going to eat dinner in my quarters alone, like a prisoner.
A guard announces him and swings the door wide. “Quint,” I say. “Finally.”
“Forgive me, Your Highness,” he says. “e king required my services for much of the day.”
His tone, the formality, draws me up short. I glance behind him at the door that’s falling closed slowly.
“No apologies are necessary,” I tell him. “I wanted to request additional reports on the fevers—”
e door clicks closed. “What’s wrong?” I whisper.
He doesn’t move from where he stands. “Someone has suggested to your brother that you’re involved with the smugglers.” He pauses. “at you are working with these Benefactors, if not funding them yourself. at you deliberately allowed the prisoners to escape on the day of the riots. at you enabled the attacks last night.”
I go still. It’s very different to hear this from Quint than from my brother. When Harristan spoke of treason, it was between us. Now . . . it’s not. “Someone.” I scowl. “It’s Allisander.”
“It may not be him alone.” Quint pauses. “Some have suggested that you may have con ded in me.”
I study my friend. For the rst time, I realize he’s not in disarray. His jacket is buttoned, his hair is combed.
His eyes are tense and uncertain.
“Are you unwell?” I say. A icker of fear ignites in my chest. “Is Tessa unwell?”
“Tessa is ne.” He pauses, then steps toward the table, but he stops before reaching it. His voice is very so. “Corrick—I’ve kept many secrets for you.”
“For which you have my gratitude.”
“For which I could be executed, if these rumors are true.”
I stare at him. “Quint.” If Harristan has gotten to Quint . . . I’m done for. “Quint, what have you done?”
“No, Corrick. What have you done?” His eyes are intent, piercing mine. We stare at each other across the room, and the re snaps in the hearth.
Tension holds my heart in a vise grip. I think of every story I’ve ever told Quint, every transgression I’ve ever committed. e names I’ve given him of families near death. e times I truly have allowed prisoners to escape. e homes I’ve broken into when I steal Moon ower petals. e way I’ve evaded the night patrol or the way I get over the wall. All I know about Tessa and every action we’ve taken together.
I was angry that Harristan would believe a rumor like this. It’s a different feeling that Quint would.
“Shall I call for a guard to take my head right now?” I say ippantly, while inside I’m reeling. “I’m sure Rocco would be willing.”
He stands there and evaluates me. It’s not a good feeling, because I know how much he sees. I know how much he knows.
“You were my con dant, Quint.” I pause. “More than a con dant. You were my friend.”
“Were?”
I tug at my sleeves and don’t look at him. “Did you sell me out to Harristan?”
For the rst time, anger ares in his eyes. “Do you think I would?”
I take a step toward him, and it requires effort to keep my voice down. “Do you think I’d help rebels and smugglers while pretending to distribute medicine to those who need it?”
He stares at me. I stare back.
Finally, he sighs. “No. I don’t.” He pauses. “And I didn’t sell you out to your brother when he asked.”
I don’t move. “What did you say to him?”
Quint looks back at me squarely and folds his arms. “I said you’ve never spoken a word of treason in my presence. at you’ve been loyal to the kingdom in every action I’ve seen you take.”
I inhale what feels like the rst deep breath in hours. I press my hands together in front of my face and try not to rattle myself apart.
Quint risks his neck by keeping my secrets. He always has, but I’ve had contingency plans for my morning activities. I’ve never been directly accused by my brother. I’ve never been suspected by any of the consuls.
Now . . . now the risk is very real.
“Leave,” I say to him, and my voice is not unkind. “I will not speak to you except in public, and only for official business. I will not—”
“Corrick.” He unfolds his arms and moves to the side table to pour a glass of brandy for himself. “Honestly. I know the risks I take.”
“I’ll take your involvement to my grave, Quint,” I say.
“Well,” says Quint. He drains the glass, which is very unusual for him. “Let’s hope that’s more than a day away.”
“You trust me, then?”
“I’ve always trusted you.” He hesitates, then glances at the door, and his voice grows very quiet. “If you were assisting these smugglers, I know you would have a reason.” He pauses. “I thought perhaps you no longer trusted me.”
“I tell you everything.” My voice grows rough. Some days he feels like my only friend here, the only person who’s ever known all sides. “Everything.”
He pours another glass, and I think he’s going to toss it back as quickly as the rst, but instead he holds it out to me. “en I ask forgiveness for doubting you.”
“You’re probably the only person in the palace who doesn’t need to ask forgiveness for anything.”
He laughs at that. “at’s hardly true.” He pauses and loses the smile. “We’ll have to be careful,” he says. “Tensions are high right now.”
We. We’ll have to be careful. It’s more than I deserve. I drain the glass he gave me.
“I have a plan,” I say huskily. “Of course you do.”
I hear the tension in his voice, and it makes me hesitate. “Do you want out, Quint?” I pause. “You don’t need to risk your neck for me.”
“It’s not just for you, Corrick.” His eyes hold mine. “Tell me your plan.”
I tell him about Tessa’s suggestion, that we go into the Wilds as outlaws again to see if people will talk about what’s going on and who’s behind the attacks.
When I’m done, Quint strokes at his jaw, thinking. “You’ll have to convince people that you were being held captive in the Hold, and you escaped during the explosions. at will explain your absence.” He pauses. “You can slip out the window as usual, but Tessa’s rooms are along the side wall, and she’ll be visible.”
I can’t invite her here either, because my brother’s guards would de nitely report it.
“I’ll see if I can distract the guards for a moment,” says Quint. “Is she as quick and sure-footed as you said?”
My heart pounds. “Yes.”
He pulls his pocket watch free. “Be ready at midnight. I’ll make sure she has a mask.”
