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Beside them is Karri, Tessa’s friend. Her fingers twist together, and she’s biting at her lip. Her eyes are wide and alarmed.

I fight to get my good leg under me, then rise to my feet. My fingers clutch at the edge of the wall. I should offer her somethingfor her assistance. She should not have to face her king like this, broken and bleeding and half-conscious in a dirty alley in the back streets of Artis.

But my head aches and my leg hurts and my brother is gone … and I have simply run out of options.

“I know there is a bounty on my head,” I say roughly. “I know it would be easier to turn me in.” She says nothing. Her fingers keep twisting together. I cough again, then press on. “It is very likely that you will not think I deserve it,” I say. “But, Karri, I am prepared to beg for your help.”

She hears those words and regards me, then glances between my guards, and then to Quint.

Finally, her eyes shift back to me. Her voice is soft, yet strong. “Did you send Lochlan away on that ship so Prince Corrick could kill him?”

“No,” I say. “I swear it. It truly was meant as a measure of goodwill.”

Her eyes hold mine, and there’s a coolness there.

Fine.I take a long breath. “And … also a bit of insurance, so he wouldn’t lead another rebellion while Corrick was away. It was a measure of protection for the kingdom. Foreveryone. Not just the elites.”

She glances at the guards again, then back at Quint. “I believe you.” Her fingers untwist, and she squares her shoulders. “And you don’t need to beg me for help. Can you walk? That looks like it needs stitching.” Her eyes shift to Thorin. “I live two blocks west of here. You’ll have to help him. But I patch people up all the time. No one should think twice about it.” She hesitates. “You’ll have to stick to the alley. The palace guard have been searching the shops.”

I nod, then grit my teeth. Relief is a powerful motivator. So is fear. I know that better than anyone, but I’ve never been on this side of it. “Lead the way.”

Karri has a small apartment to herself above a cobbler and a butcher. There are only two rooms, but she has running water and a wood-burning stove, items that are clearly a point of pride, because she mentions them as Thorin helps me through the doorway—then blushes sheepishly and says, “Well. It’s not very fine by your standards, I’m sure. But it was all I could afford on my own.”

She’s agreed to help me. It’s better than a palace. “I’m grateful for your kindness,” I say.

Thorin takes a spot by the door, and Saeth moves to the front window, where he pulls the curtain to the side. “Can I get to the roof from here?” he says. “I don’t want to keep watch from the street.”

Karri’s eyes flare in surprise, but she nods. “There’s a ladder from the window at the back of the bedroom.” She looks at me, then glances at my leg. “I’ll fetch my supplies, if you want to sit by the washbasin.” Her brown cheeks redden further. “We’ll have to remove that bandage. And I … ah, I’m going to need you to remove your trousers, Your Majesty.”

As if this is the worst thing to happen to me today. I’ve reached a point where I no longer care. “Fine.”

Quint helps me to a low chair, but I manage to work my way out of the trousers while Karri gathers her things. When she returns, I’m worried she might be too intimidated, but once she has her equipment in hand, she’s more businesslike. The wound is crustedwith dirt and sweat and several rounds of dried blood, but she soaks a rag and gently washes it clean.

It still stings, and I clench my teeth.

She glances up. “I’ll stitch it, but I should dress it with an ointment first. There’s a lot of dirt. It’ll get infected.”

I nod. “Whatever you think is best.”

She winces. “It’ll hurt.”

“It already hurts, Karri.”

“I know.” She reaches up, touching my jaw before she catches herself. She grimaces. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. Your ear likely needs stitching as well.”

“Again, whatever you think is best.”

She meets my eyes, then glances away and nods.

The room is very quiet as she fetches a few bottles of herbs, then mixes them with a fragrant cream. She takes a spoon and slathers it onto the wound with no warning at all, and I cry out, gripping tight to the chair.

Thorin appears beside us, but Quint puts up a hand to stop him. The guard waits for my order. I shake my head, gritting my teeth. “It’s fine,” I grate out.

Karri threads a needle. “May I ask how this happened?”

I huff a breath, because my thoughts are still fixated on the fiery pain from the ointment. “I was shot by the night patrol.”

Her eyes meet mine. “Really?”