Page 70 of Silvercloak

He smashed into a few dozen pieces. Not quite small enough for her purposes, but enough to convince her that this would work. She just had to hope nobody in the servants’ quarters below would hear the thumps and come running.

She repeated the levitation and the drop several more times, until Vogolan was rubble so fine that no human features could be identified. The chunks were larger than gravel, but not by much. Sweeping them into her old black cloak, Saffron stuffed the bundle into the trunk atthe foot of her bed. Every time she ventured into the city, she’d take a few handfuls with her, scattering Vogolan all over Atherin.

Perhaps she’d frequent her old favorite gamehouse while she was at it. The adrenaline, the sense of victory, had flooded her veins, and suddenly all she could think about was the heady release of gambling.Ofwinning. Of how it felt to be so thoroughly outplaying your opponents that nothing short of tragedy could strike you down now.

As she lowered the lid of the trunk, a slow smile spread over her face.

THE NEXT MORNING,she approached her assignment with renewed vigor.

Her focus had narrowed, intensified, following Aspar’s order. Uncovering details of the next lox shipment would be no mean feat, but when had anything ever been easy for Saffron? She was used to taking the undulating path through the mountains while everyone else meandered along the riverfront. She was used to adversity, to working twice as hard for twice as long. Thanks to her father, she was used to unfavorable rolls of the dice.

The first problem she had to address upon waking was that her magical well had been thoroughly depleted. The killing curse was infamous for its almighty drain, and all the subsequent spellwork she’d done to decimate the corpse had left her dry. Having decided to head into the city—to replenish her power with food and music and art and possibly a visit to a pleasurehouse—she shoved a few palmfuls of Vogolan rubble into her cloak pockets, stuffed her feet into her boots, and left her bedroom.

Fate had other ideas, however.

She passed Levan’s chambers on the way down to the main atrium, and when she drew level with his door, she heard male murmurings behind it. He had company. Her detective’s instincts prickled.

“Ans vocamplican,” she muttered—one of the first spells they’d perfected at the Academy.

Two male voices talked in muffled, almost sleepy tones.

“—I see a bloody uprising.” The unfamiliar voice was as smooth as caramel. The words were a caress, despite their violent undertones. “The head of King Quintan on the Palace steps. Just as the pulps depicted.”

“A Bloodmoon boot at his throat?” asked Levan.

“I don’t know, darling. The prophecies are offered to me as gifts. I cannot maneuver them to my will.”

“When is it happening? This bloody uprising?” There was a latent hunger in Levan’s tone. “Can you discern a season?”

“Darkest winter, at a guess.”

“How accurate a guess?”

A buttery laugh. “Oh, not very. I’m rather addled with honeywine. And there’s no way of knowing what year.”

“Fine.”

Then came the distinct sound of a lingering kiss, followed by a subtle male groan.

“Ican’t,you magnificent being,” murmured the stranger. “The king is expecting me any moment. Help me button up my doublet, won’t you? My hands don’t seem to be cooperating.”

“You drink too much. It’s not even noon.”

“I don’t think we should go down that path, darling. I still remember finding you in a pool of your own piss after a lox overd—”

“You’re right. Let’s not go down that path.”

Something curdled in Saffron’s stomach.

Levan had overdosed on lox?

Moreover, he was having an affair with a man she had discerned to be the King’s Prophet?

She didn’t know which was more shocking.

A few moments later, booted footsteps strode toward the door. Saffron dropped hervocamplicancharm mere seconds before it swung open, raising her fist as though she had been about to knock.

The man on the other side of the threshold was exceedingly handsome. He was short and slight, with pale, freckled skin and dark red hair styled in perfect waves. Sure enough, he wore the recognizable navy doublet of House Arollan.