Page 31

CALLYN

I expect to sit down to breakfast with Alek again, but when I arrive, he tells me that he’s called for a carriage, and if I want to talk, I need to accompany him for the morning.

At that, I balk. “The queen asked me to select fabrics today,” I say, the excuse I gave little Sinna and my sister—and the same thing they’ll hopefully tell anyone else who asks.

“You can certainly select them with one of my master loom workers. Unfortunately, my duties require me to be elsewhere this morning.” He pauses very deliberately. “If you’d like to discuss anything other than fabrics, you should come along.”

“I’m supposed to be with the princess,” I tell him. We’re standing on his opulent steps, the morning sun shining down. “I can’t be gone half the day.”

He shrugs. “Suit yourself.” A massive violet carriage pulled by two shining horses pulls up beside the smaller one that I arrived in. Alek looks toward the top of the steps, where two servants stand by the doors. “Navery, show Lady Callyn to the looms. Have Mistress Meah Sene display the—”

I grab his arm. “Alek.”

His eyebrows go up, and I flush. I take a step back and keep my hands to myself.

“ My lord ,” I bite out. “You know that’s not why I came.”

“I do.” He leans close. “And it would be in your best interest to come with me. I’ll send word to the palace.”

I stare into his blue eyes. I have no idea how he manages to be so challenging every time I see him.

“Fine,” I say.

When we’re seated in the carriage, I smooth my hands over the skirts of my robe. He takes the seat opposite me, and the driver cracks a whip.

Alek leans back into the velvet cushions of his seat, which are a deeper purple than the exterior of the carriage. Sheer lavender fabric covers the window, allowing light and air to swirl inside, though we’ll be obstructed from view by anyone on the road. I’ll never get used to this level of luxury, but Alek looks so natural that I almost can’t imagine him anywhere else.

“Why is this in my best interest?” I say to him.

“Because I rather like this jacket and I didn’t want you to throw any food at me.”

I know he’s kidding, but I’ve never met anyone who’s so particular about his clothes. To his credit, I like the jacket he’s wearing, too. It’s a green so dark that it’s almost black, with delicate light green stitching around each button—of which there seem to be a hundred.

“I can throw something else at you,” I say. “Where are we going?”

His eyes are piercing. “Tell me what the queen said first.”

I think of the queen standing at that window in the dark, watching the king but not wanting him to know.

She’s in so much pain. I don’t want anyone to cause her any more.

Alek frowns a little. “Do I need to prove myself to you every time, Callyn?”

“You won’t even tell me where we’re going. Do I need to prove myself to you ?”

That startles him, but he smiles. “Very well. We’re visiting one of the other Royal Houses. I’d like to introduce you to some people who may prove helpful in the future.”

I go rigid against the velvet seat. “Really?”

He shrugs again, nonchalant. “Yes. I’m meeting with some of my most important customers. As you and the queen both know, I’ve lost quite a bit of time while dealing with the king’s frivolous claims about my guilt.” He pauses. “But these people are important to me for more than one reason.”

I drop my voice, even though we’re alone in the carriage. “So these are people who are loyal to the Tr—”

“Who are loyal to the queen ,” he says, cutting me off before I can say Truthbringers . “I’ve discovered in recent weeks that certain loyalties to Syhl Shallow may differ.” He pauses. “Do you understand?”

He must mean whatever is going on among the Truthbringers that allowed some of them to splinter off and attack the queen—instead of protecting her. I swallow and nod.

“Good,” he says. “Now tell me what you mean to tell me.”

I take a deep breath. “She said she doesn’t need sanctuary. She needs allies.”

“Indeed. Then it is doubly beneficial that you’re going with me. In fact, you should probably join me for all of my visits this week.”

I consider that. “As I said, I’m supposed to be with the princess every day, especially in the morning. Someone will get suspicious.”

“Bring Princess Sinna if you like.” His eyes flick skyward. “Bring your sister, too, if she can keep her hands to herself.”

“I can’t bring the princess,” I say. “Not without a full contingent of guards. I don’t know if they’d even let me. The king has doubled the patrols around the palace.”

His eyes narrow. “Why?”

“I don’t know. The queen doesn’t even know. But it followed the arrival of Lord Tycho.”

“Tycho! The king sent him away. He’s come back?”

I nod quickly. “Yesterday. Well before dawn. I only saw him briefly.”

He considers this for a while as the scenery flows by the silky window covering.

Eventually, he looks back at me. “If he returned this quickly, something must have happened in Emberfall. Are you certain the queen doesn’t know? Or is it that she hasn’t told you ?”

“She doesn’t know.” This feels so deeply personal, but I’m sure gossip is going to spread soon—if it hasn’t already. “They’re not speaking at all now.”

He stares back at me. “The king and queen?”

I nod. “He’s staying elsewhere in the palace. I only see him on the fields or in the training arena now.” I hesitate. “The queen told him that she understands her people’s distaste for magic, and he stopped speaking to her. She’s . . . ?she’s rather distraught.”

Alek’s eyes have gone cold. “Did he harm her?”

“No! At least—I don’t think so.” I remember her sobbing on my shoulder. “He’s never . . . ?he’s never like that . He’s very gentle with Sinna, too. I just—” My voice breaks off. This feels like the worst kind of gossip. “I think she’s hurt by his silence . I don’t think she expected him to withdraw.”

“If the king is not speaking to the queen, he should have no control of her guards or her army. In fact, any Emberish soldiers should be ordered to depart at once.”

“No! I don’t think she’s—”

“Callyn, we were at war . If the king has become an adversary, he does not belong in the palace.” He looks at the window again. “We must take action sooner than I thought.”

I want to recoil, because I know what kind of action he’s referring to. I think of the queen staring down at those fields. “She doesn’t want him to be an adversary,” I say quietly.

She wants her husband back.

But I don’t say that. I don’t think the queen would want me to.

Maybe that’s part of the conflict she’s feeling: duty to her country, to her people , against the duty she feels to the man she loves.

I wonder if my mother felt the same kind of conflict every time she walked out of the bakery to fight a war.

It’s the first time I’ve ever looked at my mother’s actions from this perspective, and I selfishly feel like she should have stayed with us , her family. I have to shove the thought away because it makes me feel like a terrible person.

“You said she wants allies ,” Alek is saying.

“For Syhl Shallow. Not to kill her husband.”

Alek makes an exasperated sound. “You are telling me that our queen is at odds with the king of Emberfall. You said she specifically sent you to ask me for allies .” He frowns. “I will send word to the queen that you should join me every day. We can say that I am introducing you around society so you will be better suited to take the princess on social visits. The king would likely hate it, but perhaps this will give her an opportunity to keep some secrets from him .”

“Why?”

“Because,” he says, leaning in, “it will give you an opportunity to bring messages from the queen to her most loyal supporters. And it will give them a chance to respond, without any risk of the king discovering her plans.”

“What plans?” I demand.

“I know you’re unfamiliar with court, but your mother was an officer in the army. You must think strategically. The king has separated himself from the queen, Callyn. Over magic . I’m not entirely sure if you’re aware what’s being said here.”

Now I’m the one to make an exasperated sound. “What exactly do you think is being said here?”

“Queen Lia Mara may not want an adversary, but she is actively preparing for war.”

As the carriage rattles along, my brain won’t stop reeling from Alek’s warnings. I remember the queen standing in the courtyard of my bakery in Briarlock, declaring to the soldiers who’d kidnapped her that they would regret harming her or her child. She’s so vibrant. So strong. I have no doubt that if she wanted to be at war with the king, we would be.

But is Alek right? Is she preparing for that inevitability, despite her sadness? Does she genuinely feel that the people want her to drive King Grey back out of Syhl Shallow? Does she think it would require a war to get him to leave?

Would it?

I remember how terrifying it was when Mother had to go off into battle . . . ?especially since she never returned. Nolla Verin pummels me into the dirt every day, but now I imagine an Emberish soldier doing it instead. I imagine my body lying dead in the dirt somewhere near the border, another soldier eventually carrying this pendant back to my sister, telling her that I’m dead, too.

The thought makes my chest tighten. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to set foot in the arena ever again. I want to run right back to my bakery, where the most complicated part of my day was making sure Nora didn’t get lost in a saucy romance novel while the pastries burned.

But that’s cowardly—and it’s shoved away by another part of me that feels like I should spend every waking minute in the arena. Maybe if I were better at fighting, I wouldn’t be at risk.

Then again, Mother was an exceptional soldier, and she died anyway.

I hate the track of these thoughts.

The carriage comes to a stop, and I turn away from Alek to peer through the gauzy window covering. We’ve come to another large manor house. This one features bricks of green and yellow, stretching so tall that I can’t see the top from inside the carriage, with windows that glitter in the sunlight. We’ve traveled far, because the mountains don’t seem quite as imposing from here. In the distance, I can hear a sharp, repetitive banging, but it’s different from what used to echo from Jax’s forge.

“Where are we?” I say softly.

“The Fifth House,” he says. “You will meet Lady Delmetia Calo.” He pauses. “You’ve seen her before. I recommended your bakery.”

That snaps my gaze back around to him, but a footman is already drawing open the door to the carriage, and he’s stepping out, offering me his hand.

I hate that I’m always off balance with him.

As we walk, the repetitive banging continues, but it’s too far to figure out what it is. “What’s that sound?” I say.

“Stonemasons and artisans,” he says. “Delmetia’s House deals with all forms of masonry and stonework. Her talent can be found all over the Crystal City.”

As he says it, I realize that the bricks of the manor aren’t just green and yellow, but each one is slightly carved to reveal shadows in lighter and darker colors. We’re led through an archway to an outdoor garden backed by more bricks, with a path made of stones inlaid with green jewels. Flowers bloom everywhere, along the wall, in pots along the path, in a massive spray of color along every archway. It makes for one of the most beautiful spaces I’ve ever seen. Two women sit at a table in the corner, surrounded by an array of pastries, and at least four glass pitchers, each one sparkling with a different-colored beverage. Six servants wait along the wall, and it seems ridiculous, because there are only four of us here—and I’m fairly certain we could all serve ourselves.

I don’t belong here. I’m not a noble, I’m not a spy, I’m not a soldier. I’m better at figuring out if a merchant is trying to overcharge me for a sack of sugar than trying to determine if anyone is an ally or an enemy of the crown. I truly don’t think the queen knows what she’s doing, because I’m the last person she should have sent to meet with Alek.

But then one of the women stands, and I do recognize her as someone who visited the bakery—and more than once. She’s an older woman with light brown skin and a waist-length mane of gray hair, along with a stern—though kind—expression. Her hands are full of gleaming rings, with a diamond bracelet dangling from one wrist.

“Lady Callyn,” she says, with the slightest emphasis on Lady . “I heard you were brought to the palace, and I am pleased to see that our queen recognized your loyalty—and your bravery. I am Delmetia Calo. You may call me Della. We are glad you have chosen to visit the Fifth House.” She nods to the other woman, who’s easily twenty years younger, with black hair tightly tied back in a braid. “This is Firena, my companion.”

I’m still stumbling over her words about loyalty and bravery, but I curtsy to them both. “Thank you,” I say. “I’m honored to be here.”

“You are welcome here. When Alek told us your mother was an army captain, we were surprised that you were left to languish on the border, without any help from the crown.”

My eyes snap to Alek’s. Is that what he told people? Is that why so many nobles began visiting the bakery?

He looks back at me placidly. “Callyn is very independent,” he says. “Her tenacity is admirable. Or maybe it’s her courage? I still haven’t decided which.”

Warmth floods my cheeks. Every word sounds completely sincere. Augh , why does he do this?

“I believe it’s both,” Della says. “You told us about the day she stepped in front of a blade for you.”

My cheeks flush. I did do that. I’d almost forgotten.

It reminds me of the moment in the arena, after Nolla Verin had pummeled me into the dirt, when Alek asked why I have the courage to stand up to him , yet not the queen’s sister.

Have I been letting her comments destroy my confidence? Have I been letting self-doubt ruin my fire?

Della is still talking. “I’ve never heard Alek talk about a young woman as much as he talks about you , my dear—”

“Wait—really?” My eyes flash to Alek, expecting him to brush this off, but he shrugs, denying nothing.

“ Yes ,” says Della. “I’m glad our queen has seen the same courage and tenacity, if you have been assigned to assist with the young princess.” Her gaze flicks to the table. “We should sit,” she says. “I haven’t been to court in weeks, but Alek has told me that tensions are high.”

A footman is pulling out a chair for us both, but I hesitate. The queen told me to talk to Alek, but I have no idea how open she’d want me to be with someone else.

Alek reaches out a hand and squeezes mine, and I’m surprised by the warmth there. “As you mentioned,” he says, “Lady Callyn is very loyal. She doesn’t like to speak out of turn about the royal family.”

Della smiles and nods. “I understand.” She holds out a hand toward my chair. “All the same, sit. Please.”

I sit. Beside me, Alek does the same. As if by some unseen signal, more servants appear. Juice and wine are poured. Sweet rolls are placed on plates beside us. Slices of cheese and fruit follow quickly.

“Thank you,” I whisper. I’m the only one who acknowledges them at all.

Alek is looking across the table at Della and Firena. “Callyn may not be able to speak openly, but I can. I believe our queen is still in danger.”

My back goes ramrod straight, but I keep my mouth shut.

“I thought as much,” Della says. “I have received no invitations to call since the night we demanded that Lord Tycho have his magic stripped away.” She pats Firena’s hand. “Firena thought it was a signal of displeasure on the queen’s part, but then the King’s Courier was exiled to Emberfall, so we know more intrigue is afoot.”

I have to clamp my mouth shut even harder.

Tycho still has magic! I want to scream. So does the queen!

So do I!

But I can’t say any of that.

“Lord Tycho has returned,” Alek is saying. “Under very suspicious circumstances, too.” He glances at me. “And apparently the king is not speaking to the queen, which is why our worries are prudent.”

I snap my head around and stare at him.

He looks back at me implacably. “Della is loyal to the queen as well, Callyn.”

Della nods. “I am. It is disturbing to think that the queen was attacked as a means of capturing the king.” Her eyes flick to Alek. “I have never been involved with the Truthbringers, but many of us were alarmed at what happened when she was taken. If the king’s magic has made her a target of malfeasance, then we must work to separate them. Lord Tycho was stripped of his magic and sent away, but if the king has brought him back, I am worried that the queen is in even more danger than we thought.”

My eyebrows go up. “No—I don’t know if that’s why Tycho is back—”

“Does it matter?” she says. “The young man can access the king’s magic at will, can he not?”

I hesitate. She means that Tycho can access magic with his rings , but I know that he’s not dependent on them anymore—just like the queen isn’t dependent on them anymore. But if I tell them the truth about Tycho, does that mean it would implicate the queen, too? This has all gotten so complicated.

Alek is watching me. “He can,” he says.

“And I remember that day at court, when the king was interrogating you”—her lip curls—“how you indicated that Lord Tycho was the one working with these Truthbringers.”

I inhale sharply, but Alek cuts me a glance.

“So the king has a magical ally,” Della continues, before I can say anything.

“Yes,” says Firena. “And our queen may yet be a prisoner in her own home.”

I frown. “I don’t know if she’d consider herself a prisoner.” I shoot a dark look at Alek. “And Tycho risked himself to save her in Briarlock, so I don’t know that he’s allied with the Truthbringers.”

“But it seems that the Truthbringers may have divided,” says Della. “Don’t you think so, Alek?”

“I do,” he says. “I believed Lady Clarinas was loyal, but then she and her followers attacked the queen and her daughter. No one has seen her, but she has contacts throughout Syhl Shallow—and she was employed in the palace for a time. She could still have connections who are close to the queen.”

I wonder if he means anyone in particular—and then I realize that Lady Clarinas would have known Nolla Verin. Again, I try to make that connection work in my head, but it doesn’t quite fit. Maybe I only want her to be a villain because of the way she treats me.

Alek is still talking. “Perhaps Tycho did risk himself to save the queen, but it may have been due to his loyalty to the king .”

I falter. Last night, Lia Mara said she didn’t want to speak with Tycho—for that exact reason: his loyalty to King Grey.

“There have been rumors of magical attacks,” says Firena. “From creatures similar to what our armies once faced in Emberfall. Could the king’s magic have summoned them as well?”

“Magical attacks ?” I exclaim.

“You remember the old stories,” says Della. She glances at Alek. “What were they called? Surely you had some in your storybooks.”

“Scravers,” he says, and his voice is cool. He glances at me. “I’ve heard that they also appeared when the queen was kidnapped. You were there, Callyn. Is there truth to that rumor?”

Scravers. “Yes. But . . . but scravers helped the king and queen—”

“Did they? Truly? Or much like Lord Tycho, were they there at the king’s summoning because he was in danger?”

I think back. The events in Briarlock are so muddled, because I remember the scravers appearing—but I was so focused on Nora, who had a sword thrust through her chest.

“All I know,” I say evenly, “is that they helped save my sister’s life.” I pause. “We were trying to protect the princess, and when we wouldn’t let the Truthbringers get to her, a soldier tried to kill Nora instead.”

I mean to fling this like an accusation—or maybe a justification. I mean for it to explain that the scravers did help, and that we wouldn’t have been at risk if not for the people trying to kill the king.

But Della nods sagely and reaches out to put a hand over mine. “As I said, I am glad the queen has seen your qualities, my dear. Those of you and your sister.”

Firena nods, too. “The perfect example of why the king’s magic should not remain here. Previous queens would not allow these magesmiths to reside in Syhl Shallow, and this is exactly why. These creatures are too dangerous. This magic is too dangerous. If the king were not here, we would not have conflict at all . Your sister never would have been at risk.”

That throws me for a moment.

But then I remember the king standing there on the first night he healed my wounds, telling me how things felt from his side, when Syhl Shallow began to attack.

I remember thinking about my mother ordering that kind of violence—before the king was even here.

“Maybe the magic is dangerous,” I say, trying not to think about the flicker in my veins as I say the words. What would these women do if they knew I had the same magic running through me ? What if they knew the queen had it?

I have no magic, Callyn.

Maybe this is my purpose here. Not to be a spy, not to drive her people to war.

Maybe my purpose is to protect the queen.

I have to swallow and square my shoulders. “I don’t think the queen is willing to go to war.” I take a breath. “Not again.”

Della and Firena exchange a glance. “War?” says Firena. “We don’t want to go to war either.” She pauses. “Not yet.”

I frown, wondering if I’m misunderstanding the direction of this conversation. “Then what do you want?”

“We want the king to leave.” Her voice tightens. “We’ve all lost family to those monsters in Emberfall. We want his magic to leave.”

Della nods, and she leans in, holding my eyes. “And if he doesn’t, let our queen know we stand ready to drive him out.”