Page 42

Anotherman speaks with the deferential authority of a guard. “We have searched the palace, Your Highness. We found nothing else amiss.”

Your Highness. That must mean Prince Corrick.

I was so stupid. I stood there and told Wes that we shouldn’t keep hiding, but now that’s all I want to do.

The woman straightens and says, “She’s just a girl. Clearly not a trained assassin.”

“You don’t think girls are capable of violence and treachery, Consul?” Booted feet step closer, but he’s behind me, so I can’t look at him. His eyes were pools of black from across the square when he was going to execute the eight prisoners. I don’t want to see what they look like up close. I’ll do worse than wet myself.

“How did she get in here?” he says.

“We don’t know.” The guard sounds a bit hesitant now. “We have not been able to discover her point of entry.”

“What are you doing here?”

It takes me a moment to realize that cold voice is speaking to me, and it’s clearly a moment too long because the prince grabs hold of my hair and pulls tight. “Answer me.”

It draws a squeak out of my throat. “I don’t know—I don’t know—”

His grip turns painful. “Stop saying you don’t know.”

I’m not sure if it’s the command in his voice or the grip on my hair—or possibly just the sheer hatred I have for this man—but I grit my teeth and choke back my tears. My voice comes out like a broken whisper. “You killed . . . you killed my . . .”

“Who did I kill?” He says the words without any emotion.

I was wrong before. I should have tried to poison this man. I would be doing the world a favor. A tear slips down my face. “My friend.”

“What’s your name?”

I hold my breath. I wish he would just kill me and get it over with. I’m shaking so hard I’m sure he can feel it through his grip on my hair. I feel like such a coward, but it’s impossible to be brave.

His grip tightens until I’m sure hairs are beginning to pull free. “Your name.”

I don’t want to give it to him. All of Wes’s warnings to protect my identity are rattling around in my head. But I’m dying, so surely it doesn’t matter.

“Tessa.” The word is almost forced out of my mouth.

The woman speaks again. “How desperate does someone have to be to challenge your laws? If you kill everyone who holds a grudge against your actions, Prince Corrick, your brother will have no subjects left.”

He lets go of my hair and steps back. I can finally turn my head, but all I can see are his polished black boots.

“You overstep, Consul Cherry,” he says, and somehow, his voice is colder. Darker.

“Do I?”

“What would you have me do? Should I send every assassin on their way with a bag of silver and some sugared pastries for their trouble?”

To my surprise, the woman laughs. “This girl was clearly not any threat to anyone in this palace,” she says. “Your guards found no weapons.”

“They found ground powders in her satchel,” he says. “Do you suppose she was here to flavor Harristan’s tea?”

Anylaughter fades from her voice. “You attempted to execute eight people, and there were calls for revolution in the streets. If you hang a pretty young girl from the gates, I believe you will be dealing with more than you bargained for.”

He’s quiet for a long time. So long that I can tell he is thinking, and a new chill finds its way through my veins.

“Fine,” he says, and his voice is resigned. “I’ll leave her alive.”

All the breath leaves my lungs in a rush. I don’t know if this is worse or better.