Page 29

T heron was in a foul mood. More letters had arrived from home, all from his most loyal advisors begging him to conclude his business in Viridis as quickly as possible. As if his imprisonment in Boreas were some holiday he’d irresponsibly taken without tying up loose ends first. As if he wished to bear a blasphemer’s mark and had been negligent in getting it purified. As if he had a bloody choice in anything that had happened to him since he’d stepped foot in this cursed queendom.

He burned the latest missive, informing him that Batea was being led by the nose by bandits and dualists alike, pulling her focus in all directions and leaving Altanus, the capital, undefended on more than one occasion. No doubt some of his more scheming courtiers were demanding she prove her worth by seeing to every skirmish personally, hoping that if the capital were attacked, they could unseat her. Clearly, a number of his courtiers didn’t believe he would return from Viridis—or hoped he would not.

Aurora vexed him almost as much. He’d finally had her in his arms, her lips hot and demanding on his, and she’d spurned him. They’d been a breath away from rutting like animals in the open, and then the greatest passion he’d ever felt had been snatched from him in an instant. How dare she show him her fire and then leave him cold. It was maddening. Now, he burned for her, yearning like a witless fool. Perhaps it had been her plan all along. If so, she was a more skilled seductress than he’d given her credit for. Because whenever he caught sight of her in the temple, his blood heated.

He wanted to run her down and tackle her to the floors of the temple and desecrate it with her cries of pleasure.

He despised the look of defeat and melancholy he sometimes caught on her face when she looked at him and didn’t think he noticed. It was impossible not to notice her eyes on him. Like a caress against senses he’d not known he possessed, she tormented him with her nearness. Near enough to be reminded of her body crushed to his, the feel of her silken heat, the taste of her tongue, her skin, and yet not near enough to reach out and pull her close to relive the experience, to know if his recollection had done her justice.

The pain in his hand, his divine mark, flared again as prayers rang out through the temple. Theron swore. He kept a curse for the goddess off his tongue, but only just. When his next piece of mail was delivered to his room, he braced himself for yet more pleading. But it was from the temple of Knowledge.

Theron’s mood darkened further.

A summons from the high priestess of Knowledge. One written in neat, precise letters telling him where and when to present himself to Her Holiness, the wizened bitch of Boreas. Maybe she meant to taunt him about his mark. No doubt she would use her ability to purify him as leverage to gain some concession for her mad dog of a queen. It’s what Theron would do in her place.

It seemed escaping irritation would be impossible today. Theron sighed and headed for the temple entrance where a paladin was already waiting. They crossed the plaza to the temple of Knowledge where the paladins of Knowledge led him and his escort into Orithyia’s private office.

“You may stand outside the door, paladin of Justice.” Orithyia gestured to the door.

“Your Holiness—”

“I understand your sacred duty, but the King of Aureum will come to no harm in this room, you have my word.”

The paladin hesitated for a moment, looking to Theron for consent. He had to give the young man credit where it was due. Being such a stickler for the rules that he was willing to stand up to a high priestess took more conviction than most would ever possess. Theron nodded, sparing the young man the conflict. After all, this confrontation had been a long time in coming. Perhaps, if he were doomed anyway, he might as well kill her and spare Aureum from her constant meddling.

“Welcome to the temple of Knowledge, Your Majesty.”

“It is your great honour to host me, I’m certain,” Theron replied.

“If that is what you’d like to believe.” Orithyia smiled.

How quickly could he break her? As the high priestess, she’d never been involved in combat. The rituals of initiation for Knowledge’s temple were meant to test the intellect, not the body, unless one wished to become Her paladin. As far as he knew, she’d lived a peaceful existence. If he wished to kill her, it would be best to rely on his physical strength and speed to do it. He was confident he could silence her before she managed to call for help.

“My, what dangerous thoughts swirl behind your eyes, Your Majesty. Aren’t you curious as to why I summoned you?”

“You have caused a great deal of harm to my kingdom, Your Holiness. For your sake, I hope it’s because you wish to make restitution.”

“Ah, yes, Dia has told me of the drought and plagues of Aureum. Troubling indeed. But is it not the monarch’s sacred duty to calm the angry spirits of the land?”

“Yes, just as it is the duty of the high priestesses not to interfere in matters of state.”

“And yet you seemed perfectly happy to involve me in your dispute with Queen Flora.”

“When a dog snarls and snaps, is it not the animal’s owner who is responsible for reining it in?”

“Is that what your cousin does, Your Majesty? Reins in her beasts?”

“When it is appropriate to do so.”

“Because I have heard troubling reports that when the research outpost collapsed and Batea raced to the rescue, her beasts devoured the bodies of many acolytes and initiates,” Orithyia replied, her tone darkening.

Then whoever was reporting to Orithyia had been part of the rescue. When next he met with his spies, he would inform them of the traitor.

“Did your reports also inform you that your spire contaminated the mountain streams and lakes?”

“I believe it was good fortune that we set up the spire when we did. My people were investigating a cure for Aureum’s ills. But with all my researchers dead, who knows what knowledge was lost?”

His magic swirled around him as he clenched his fists.

“Your spire poisoned my lands, and you dare call it good fortune?”

“Your cousin’s beasts devoured my people, and you dared call it appropriate,” she retorted.

“You built that spire without my consent and without appeasing the spirits. You meddled with magic and forces that were outside your purview and brought incalculable harm to my people and yours. The tragedy of your people’s deaths would have been entirely preventable had you kept your claws out of Aureum,” he growled.

“Just as the tragedy of this ‘cycle of calamity’ might have been prevented, had you made a concerted effort to defeat the dualists in your lands.”

Yes, the dualists, always the scapegoats for the failings of the temples. The temples blamed them for the cycle of chaos, the dualists pointed the finger back at the temples, and the small cult of the elder gods, those who solely worshipped the tangible gods, blamed the temples and dualists both. He allowed dualists to be hunted in his lands for the greater good, but could hardly be expected to believe they were the root of all ills. What would Orithyia say once they were all slain and yet cycles of chaos continued to be visited upon Trisia? Would she then blame the tangible gods and those, like him, who were blessed with their wild magic?

“Or perhaps it might have been prevented altogether, had you not locked up the only person who knew what was coming in the vivarium and then proceeded to maim her.”

“I took responsibility for my failings by trusting her when I had little reason to and protecting her at court by proving her innocence. What did you do, aside from setting a target on her back?”

Theron snorted with derision.

“I wasn’t aware that ‘taking responsibility’ meant doing the bare minimum to satisfy common decency. Thank you for enlightening me, Your Holiness.”

“I can see why you exasperate Dia so. But your clever rhetoric will not help you here. There are more important matters at stake, and I simply do not have the time or patience to play your games. So I come to you with an offer—I will purify you here and now, provided you make a sacred vow to wed, as Queen Flora is so determined to see happen now that she has glimpsed her daughter’s future.”

He would rather be flayed than marry Epicasta, knowing what he did about Flora’s vile magic. It was altogether possible that Orithyia purifying him was merely the first step in Flora’s scheme to put another soul in his body. But if he refused Orithyia’s offer, there was no guarantee that he would escape Boreas in time to set Aureum to rights. Nerio could be anywhere in Trisia, and even if he begged Myrina to come to Boreas for him and she agreed to help, it would be weeks before she arrived.

“You would deny me purification, simply because I do not wish to take that snake as my wife?”

“I am under no obligation to purify you. Neither are Nerio or Myrina, for that matter. Purification is reserved for those who have repented for their blasphemy, and who have shown a willingness to change. Can you really tell me that your experience has left you humbled and wiser, rather than infuriated? That you have changed your ways?”

“If the avatar of Justice himself has forgiven me, I fail to see why you should withhold purification. I would rather wait patiently for a high priestess to come to my rescue than cede my kingdom to Viridis. As a good king, my own comfort and desires must come second to what is best for my kingdom. If you had hoped I would break so easily, then you were sorely mistaken.”

Her face darkened with rage. She slammed her bony fist against the arm of her chair.

“What does it matter who sits at your side on Aureum’s throne when the end is upon us? Did you not see what comes for Trisia? What destruction it will bring? Every moment you waste sitting here rather than allying with Viridis and preparing Aureum for what is to come, will be repaid in the blood of innocents! Your people, my people, none of it will matter when we’re all reduced to ashes and bones!”

He almost smiled. What she said was true, but also a masterful deflection. He wouldn’t fall for her bait.

“High Priestesses have no right to play games with the thrones of Trisia. If you truly wish for my kingdom to be stabilized and ready to fight what’s to come, then there could be no worse choice of queen than Epicasta. Unless you’ve decided to turn a blind eye to the fate of every husband she has condemned to death. If you truly wish to save as many as possible, then do not deny me purification and delay my return to Aureum any more than Queen Flora already has with her ludicrous demands!”

“You speak of being a good king, and yet I would not need to meddle in your affairs if you had left a competent person in charge of Aureum. Your own kingdom is on the brink of tearing itself apart with your cousin on its throne, in spite of knowing that a cycle of chaos is already here! Marriage to Epicasta is the fastest way for you to return. And of all the daughters she could have tried to force upon you, Epicasta is the wisest, most restrained woman of the lot. As a princess, her fate is controlled by her mother. As a queen, she would be free to act according to her conscience.”

Theron almost laughed. Epicasta had made certain to tell him what his fate would be if they were forced to wed—violated and then murdered. He would not be so foolish as to believe that had miraculously changed.

“Or you could end all this now by purifying me and ordering your mad dog to accept reasonable terms for restitution. As you should have done from the start.”

Orithyia laughed, cackling as if he were a simpleton.

“And when would I have accomplished this? Before you arrived, or while a plague ripped through the city?” she scoffed. Orithyia leaned back in her seat, sighing bitterly. “There might have been a small window of opportunity for that, before Flora saw Aurora’s vision, but that ship has long since sailed. Fate has decreed that you shall wed Epicasta. Accept it, and save us both some time and aggravation.”

Rage tore through Theron.

“Your delay nearly cost me my life! It nearly cost Aurora’s as well! Had you acted when you had the chance, had you done anything to rein in Flora’s abject cruelty, none of this would be an issue!”

“How dare you speak to me of delays! You have already delayed Aurora’s freedom with the investigation of the vivarium! And do not pretend that she does not remain here for you. You seduced her for sport and made her a target for your enemies! She should be quit from here in Hyllus’ company, not trapped in Boreas while the wolves at court conspire ways to use her power and slow her down! If you believe, as I do, that she’s instrumental in what’s to come, then break her heart and send her away now, or agree to my offer and take her with you as soon as the marriage can be arranged.”

Theron laughed bitterly.

“The High Priestess of Knowledge is advising me to keep a mistress as she forces a marriage upon me? Will wonders never cease?”

“I’m advising you to do whatever is necessary for the good of Trisia, and by extension, Aureum. As you say, a good king puts his kingdom first, and his own comfort and desires second. Delaying the inevitable may well cost more lives.”

As much as he despised her, as much as he knew this was a trap either of her making or Flora’s, he could not deny she spoke sense. It was clear from the letters he’d been receiving that the situation in Aureum was politically dire. If he tarried here, waiting for Nerio, would he even have a throne to go back to, or would he be forced to fight whoever had managed to place themselves on it in the meantime?

Yes, Orithyia spoke sense, but wasn’t that the best kind of trap, where the bait was an undeniable truth? Except he too was well-versed in chicanery. As long as he remained in control of his own body, he could have Epicasta executed and blame it on monstrosities the moment he crossed into Aureum, or imprison her for Flora’s good behaviour. After that, securing the line of succession was a simple matter of appointing official concubines and letting Epicasta rot. Whether that was in the belly of a beast or somewhere as comfortable as her mother’s vivarium would be something her behaviour would determine.

As for Aurora, she was heartbroken now, but he had a feeling he could sway her to his side. There was an undeniable spark of lust between them, one she was weak to. Once she realised the marriage was political, with nothing between the bride and groom but a power-sharing agreement he planned to undermine at the first opportunity, she would understand it had just been a ploy to return home sooner.

But what to do about Orithyia? If this was part of Flora’s scheming, he needed insurance. The kind the high priestess couldn’t deny giving him without tipping her hand or Flora’s. Perhaps agreeing to Orithyia’s scheme was the best option to save himself from the mad dog’s magic. Who better to force conditions on than the mad dog’s owner?

“If I agree to this, you will make your own sacred vows. I know Queen Flora is a soul swapper, and I know she used her magic on Epicasta’s victims. You will vow to prevent her from ever using her magic on me, and you will swear it on your goddess so that if you fail, you will lose your place as high priestess. Second, you will vow to force Flora to accept my terms for restitution. I’m not shackling myself in marriage just to see that greedy bitch take my territory. Third, you will make a vow to purify me the moment I speak my vow. You will not trick me into this vile state of affairs and then renege on your promise.”

If she were surprised by his knowledge of Flora’s magic, she made not a single twitch to indicate it. Her wizened face was a mask of bemused tolerance.

“You would force three vows from me for one of yours, two of which depend on the actions of another?”

“I would demand protection from the mad dog whose leash you hold the same as I demand your integrity. I would ask that you swear on your honour, but I don’t believe you have any. Be glad I did not demand restitution for your part in Aureum’s blight.”

Orithyia laughed until she had to dab tears from her eyes.

“Perhaps I should. Pay restitution, that is. Admit to these fanciful crimes you’ve accused me of. Though it would relieve me of the office of high priestess, unable to purify you. Then again, I could finally catch up on some sleep and leave the care of unruly royal houses to my successor, Triad spare her.” Orithyia shook her head, the joviality wiped from her mien. “I agree to make those vows before the goddess’ statue, if you agree to make yours.”

He hadn’t expected her to be so reasonable. Then again, he hadn’t expected to agree to the damned wedding either. His gut churned. Wed to a viper, daughter to a reviled enemy. But so long as he didn’t vow to love, respect, cherish, or even keep his intended alive, all he needed was to complete the ceremony and wash his hands of her. In light of that…

“I will not agree to be wed in the temple of Passion,” he added.

As a king, he could be wed in any temple he pleased. For political marriages, Justice was common. For most other kinds, Knowledge and Justice were the normal choices. Passion’s temple was only sought out by lovers, often by those whose love was forbidden, and usually chosen by the short-sighted. A wedding conducted at Passion’s feet could only be performed if there was true passion between the couple, had to be consummated in her temple, and could only be ended by death. A true nightmare for most with a modicum of sensibility. People changed, betrayed each other, and realised that passions always cooled. Marriages ended for a myriad of reasons, political ones all the more so, and the freedom to leave saved lives. A lifetime commitment was as good as a lifelong prison sentence, willingly chosen.

“Myrina will be crushed, of course,” Orithyia replied dryly. “But I agree. It would be an insult to Passion, and you’ve angered one of the Triad already. Best not to court the wrath of She of the fiery gaze.”

He swallowed, his throat parched, his mind spinning. Theron could not renege on this vow. Sacred vows could so easily be broken if the wording was too vague or too specific. If he vowed to wed Epicasta specifically, Flora might decide one daughter’s life was worth sacrificing in order to kill him. Flora was unfeeling enough to wed her daughter to three men just to kill them. He couldn’t take any chances.

“And I refuse to make my vow using Epicasta’s name.”

Orithyia raised her brow at him.

“If anything untoward happens to Epicasta in the coming days, the goddess would strike me down for being unable to fulfil my vow. This, at least, prevents Flora from killing her daughter in order to kill me. The queen will get her wedding, but I won’t let her take my life.”

Orithyia nodded her head, though her scowl was impressive. Angry that he’d slipped her trap, or that he insulted Flora’s character?

“Then we are agreed? Your vows first, then mine, then the purification.”

“We are agreed,” Orithyia said.

Orithyia stood and led the way out of her office and down the staircases, the paladins following close behind. They descended into the temple proper where the statue of Knowledge, carved in black, glittering rock and clothed in shimmering midnight robes stood, her obsidian eyes winking in the low light. They arrived at the foot of her statue, amongst the offerings and statues of notable, wealthy people bent in supplication so that a part of them would always be praying.

Sweat beaded along his spine. Was this really the wisest course of action? Had he accounted for all her tricks?

“I, High Priestess Orithyia XI, make a sacred vow to Knowledge that I will prevent Queen Flora of Viridis from using her magic on King Theron of Aureum. I make a sacred vow to convince Queen Flora of Viridis to accept his terms for reparations. And I make a sacred vow to purify King Theron of Aureum once he has made his sacred vow to wed,” Orithyia finished, raising her brow at Theron.

“I, King Theron of Aureum, make a sacred vow to Knowledge to be wed before I leave the city of Boreas.”

Orithyia raised her brow at him, mocking his caution no doubt.

“That’s as specific as I’m willing to get, given Flora’s nature.”

Orithyia laughed, grinning wickedly. Ice crept down his spine.

“To fulfil my sacred vow, I hereby purify you of the blasphemer’s mark,” she said, holding her hand high as divine magic gathered at her fingers.

He’d not expected the pain.

Fire shot through his veins, the source of the blaze the diamond-like mark on the back of his hand. Theron crumpled to the floor in agony as the process stole his breath. When it was done, he felt light-headed and weak, his heart racing as the last of the pain ebbed away. He staggered to his feet.

“You did that on purpose,” he ground out.

Orithyia smiled.

“Because you wasted my time and insulted me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a monarch to speak with and a royal wedding to prepare for. You may return to the temple of Justice. I believe there are people waiting for you. Oh, and you’d best hope Flora doesn’t delay the wedding to keep you here indefinitely. You did vow to remain until wed. Rest assured, if you cause trouble for me, I will tell her the exact wording of your vow.”

Fuck .

Aurora collapsed in her bed, groaning as her face hit the pillow. The paladins had concluded their investigation and brought their case against Queen Flora to the royal court, whereupon a veritable army of guards and attendants admitted their guilt. To no one’s surprise, all testified that Flora had been unaware of their conduct. Their penance was to serve one day in seven praying at the temple of Justice for the next fifteen years. Flora agreed to pay a hefty fine for each person who had come forward with tales of mistreatment, and to allow her political prisoners to remain in the temple, but not leave the city. Aurora, of course, had been exempt from that rule, given she was not a political prisoner…yet.

Every day, the palace inundated her with gifts as Flora’s nobles sought her favour. It made her skin crawl. She’d repurposed nearly every gift to benefit the temples and sold the rest for coin. She’d just returned from her latest outing, the coin for an unwelcome gift of an emerald bracelet sitting on her unadorned bedside table. At least the jewellery could be sold. The flowers simply rotted, the clothes were impractical at best and suggestive at worst, and the delicacies were better used filling the bellies of those who sought succour at the temple of Passion.

She reached out and looked over the bust of Flora on the gold coin. Aurora and Hyllus would need it when they set out. Strange, to think that a year ago, finding a perfectly preserved gold coin from the first calamity period would have been the discovery of a lifetime. Now, it was simply weight in the bag she was packing. Aurora curled up into herself.

Since her display at court, she’d spent her days reliving her worst memories to prepare the paladins of the temples for what was coming, and cried herself to sleep. She had so many painful things to choose from, after all—Phaedra, Silvanus, her fate, and Theron. As if she’d needed more heartache.

Foolish as she’d been, she’d hoped to journey in Theron’s company. But now, he would be marrying Princess Epicasta, and the thought of having to watch him be her husband made her ill. And if her vision was anything to go by, she was about to have a front-row seat for the ceremony. Hopefully, Hyllus would get her good and drunk and whisk her away as soon as possible.

A knock sounded at her door.

“You have a visitor,” the paladin outside her door said.

“If they’re here with bribes, tell them to go away,” Aurora replied.

“I’ve come only as myself. Will that do?” a woman’s voice asked.

Were they sending women now that she’d rejected all the men? Merciful Triad, would they never relent? How many times did she have to tell them that she wasn’t going to agree to a marriage, a concubinage, a fling, a tryst or even one bloody kiss? Aurora grumbled as she got out of her bed and opened the door.

The woman before her stood in a gown the dark red colour of mourning, lifting her veil to reveal her face. A sliver of dread stole down her spine and ignited a spark of bitter anger in her heart. The woman from her vision—Princess Epicasta.

“You’re a difficult woman to speak to.”

“Maybe I prefer it that way.”

Epicasta tilted her head.

“Will you make an exception for me?”

“Will you give up trying if I don’t?”

“No.”

Aurora sighed and waved her in. Epicasta glanced inside the small room and seated herself on the only stool. The paladin looked to Aurora for guidance.

“It’s alright. You can close the door.”

The moment it was shut, Epicasta turned her grey eyes to Aurora.

“You’ll hear about it soon enough, but I wanted to inform you that Theron swore a sacred vow to wed in return for purification and the resolution of this most recent dispute between Aureum and Viridis.”

Her breath left her in a rush. She sat down on her bed as her legs gave out on her.

“Why did you come to tell me this?” she asked, voice hollow.

Had she come to taunt her? Assert her dominance? Warn her off?

“Because I want this marriage as much as I want my legs broken, that’s why. And because I need to know if your visions always come true.”

Aurora blinked at Epicasta in shock. But Theron was a handsome king whose kiss was as intoxicating as wine. True, their realms weren’t on the best of terms, but he was protective, worldly and shrewd. What more could a princess ask for?

“I…I don’t know. The last few have come true exactly as I envisioned them.”

Epicasta stood, pacing from one end of the room to the other.

“Well, how hard did you try to change them?”

“I did everything I could,” Aurora replied darkly. “No one believed me.”

“But things are different now.”

“How?”

“Because I refuse to let it happen.”

“Why?”

Epicasta stopped pacing.

“I thought you’d be pleased. He’s your paramour, is he not? Rumour has it that you two have been in foul moods since your vision at court.”

Aurora groaned. Of course there were rumours. It made sense now why Flora had sent every halfway handsome man to the temple in an attempt to woo her. She thought she saw an opening to lure Aurora in with seduction.

“Why should I trust you? Theron is a better match than you could ever hope to make, a guarantee of being a queen. How do I know this isn’t some plot concocted by your mother?”

If Flora wanted Aurora to stay, what better way than to accuse her of trying to sabotage a royal wedding? Once she had grounds for a complaint against her, all Flora had to do was demand compensation in the form of another vision. It was hardly a leap of imagination. After all, Flora had accused Aurora of summoning the monstrosities, all in an attempt to discredit Theron. How much worse would it be when she turned her full attention to Aurora instead?

“Do you know what I’m called, Aurora?”

Aurora shrugged. As if she wanted to know about the woman who would take Theron from her.

“The glass princess. The moment I came of age to wed, Her Majesty married me off to one political opponent after the other. Each time, I am ordered to bankrupt my groom. Each time, my groom is accused of harming me. And each time, Her Majesty decides that is reason enough to execute them. I have been the death of three men, and the moment Her Majesty saw your vision, she has been salivating at the chance to make it four. If Theron succeeds and does me no harm, I would not put it past Her Majesty to plot my demise to get what she truly wants—the Dragon’s Flank. This marriage will end but one way—death—mine, or his.”

Aurora eyes widened in horror.

“Then…Then why would you ever agree to marry? Why didn’t you run away?”

“Because she found my weakness. And if I don’t do as Her Majesty commands, the only person I’ve ever loved will die.”

Oh . Guilt washed over her. Epicasta wasn’t her enemy. Of course she didn’t want to marry all those men. Of course she didn’t want to be a villain for her mother. Why else would she put up with such abuse if not for love?

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” She shook her head sadly. “I received a letter with proof that he still lives, trapped in one of her many dungeons. Her Majesty swears that once the Dragon’s Flank is hers, that he will be freed.”

“And you believe her?”

Epicasta laughed bitterly.

“No. She always promises that this time will be the last. And I don’t want to believe he still lives. I pray he died the day he was captured. That way, only I had to suffer, and he will never know what I’ve done for love of him.”

And yet she’d done as she’d been told, because a part of her still believed he was alive, still hoped he could be saved. Aurora felt ill. Merciful Triad, she’d hated this woman whenever she thought of what the princess’ marriage would steal from her. She’d never known what burdens the princess had been forced to carry alone. Never considered that the marriage would only be the start of another nightmare for her.

Aurora reached across the space between them and placed her hand on Epicasta’s.

“I didn’t know.”

“No one does, aside from Her Majesty and Her Holiness.”

And now Aurora.

“I’m so sorry.”

They were the only words she had, and yet they felt wholly inadequate. Aurora could only imagine what pain she’d suffered.

Epicasta seized her hands, a desperate light in her solemn grey eyes.

“If you have pity for me, then help me. If there’s some way to circumvent this marriage, if you’ve had any visions that might show a different future, please tell me.”

She hadn’t had any more visions, just more of the same strange feelings of déjà vu whenever her emotions overwhelmed her, which was most of the time. But if a different future was what the princess needed, there were other ways. For the first time in weeks, hope sparked anew in her chest that maybe this time, the future she’d seen could be averted. After all, Aurora knew the palace like the back of her hand.

“I haven’t had any visions, but I can tell you at least ten ways to sneak out of the palace unseen.”