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Chapter forty-nine

Nerys

Idris. Qiana.

She found Qiana in their sitting room sipping on her morning tea and handed her the letter from the R?ll. Qiana read the contents and nodded, her face expressionless, considering her maid’s presence.

“I’ll make sure the seamstress has your measurements,” Qiana said. “You’re obviously attending.” There it was, their code that she’d let Idris know that the plan was nearing completion.

Nerys smiled. Tomorrow she’d be on her way out of the kingdom and to Cerdoran with Idris. They’d start their new life together, leaving all of the horrors behind. Even if the war reached Cerdoran, Idris would protect her, from anything.

Tomorrow Qiana would be short one ward, Nerys would be short one knife, and the kingdom would be short one R?ll—replaced with a far superior one.

After her discussion with Qiana, Nerys went to Adelyna’s chambers, doing her best to act like a normal High Maid, all while her nerves made her as effective as a stringed puppet.

What if she failed? What if she was caught?

What if she died? She didn’t need Maribelle to sabotage her today.

Nerys dropped Adelyna’s book in front of her guests, forgot one lady’s title, and—horror of horrors—left the room without the required set of curtsies to the highest-ranking ladies there.

The other High Maids squeaked amongst each other like a flock of hummingbirds, not bothering to hide that they were sure this meant Nerys was not long for the court.

How right they were. And wrong.

On her way back to her rooms for the evening, she came across Jesta.

They greeted each other, and Nerys tried to keep her expression from looking too forlorn.

Poor Jesta—she didn’t need to know this was probably the last time they would see each other.

The irony was not lost on her that still, one of her favorite people at court was dead.

“I’ve missed you these last few days,” Jesta said. “Being High Maid seems to be leaving you with few options.”

“Less time for myself, that is sure.”

“That is the cost of such a privileged role.”

“Indeed.” Courtiers milled around them, paying them no mind. Adelyna was having a gathering in her salon tonight, and most likely the R?ll and Aherin were having ones of their own. “The Kor’yitz was kind enough to send me to get some rest,” Nerys added.

Jesta frowned, her rubbery skin accentuating wrinkles a bit more than was natural for someone her age. “Are you sure? You can come with me—our little group is going to be… Actually” ?she laughed? “I forgot. But I’ll be there, so we shall have fun. Whatever it is.”

“Thank you, but I should rest. My day starts early tomorrow.”

“Then you are going to attend the Yitz’mal’s soiree with me tomorrow night. I’ll accept no excuses.”

“I can’t. I—” Shit. Nerys couldn’t say, sorry, I have a regicide planned . She shook her head. “Never mind. I mixed up my nights. I’ll be there,” Nerys said. “Though I’ll be late.”

“You had better be.” Jesta grinned. “Or you’re going to owe me.”

They said their farewells and went on their separate ways. Jesta would miss her tomorrow and wonder forever where she went, but Nerys was going to have much bigger concerns. Like finding the R?ll’s arteries.