“Food,” she said softly. “I hate to make this recommendation, sir, but I believe it’s time for us to go on rations. The soldiers need the best of what we have left, and the rest of us will…make do.”
Raff could picture the kitchen staff eating porridge for days and the severity of the situation registered all over again. “I appreciate your dedication and your sacrifice. Princess Thalia does as well.”
“We know, sir, we all do. That’s why we’re with her—and you—until the end.”
27.
Thalia gazed at her reflection in awe.
Lileth probably wouldn’t even recognize her. The change in coloring made all the difference, and the cheap, bulky clothes added volume to her figure, lending the impression that she could be Animari. Which was vital to their plan.
“What do you think?” Ferith asked.
“It’s an impressive transformation. I don’t think anyone will look closely at me.” She checked the time then. “Too late to make contact with the vendor?”
Ferith nodded. “We should snatch a few hours of sleep and then go to the warehouse near dawn. From what I hear, they deliver supplies early.”
“Understood.” The room had one bed, and the other woman started to settle on the rickety chair near the window. “We can share,” Thalia added.
“I appreciate the offer, but I can keep watch more effectively from here. The security in this place is terrible, or rather should I say, nonexistent.”
“It’ll keep us out of the cold, so we’re better off than many in Outwater.”
Ferith cast her a quizzical look, so she elaborated on her brief encounter at the fire barrel, disposing of her hair and the revelation about the gray tar. When she finished, the Noxblade sighed.
“That was unwise. I agree that those people need our help, but we’re in no position to deliver it right now. You risked our mission…for what?”
Thalia almost said, to destroy evidence of who I am, but that answer didn’t feel quite right or completely true. In her disbelief that even Ruark Gilbraith could be so cruel, she’d wanted a closer look at those people, hoping they had some reason other than desperation for huddling around that fire. Closer inspection hadn’t comforted her at all. They had all been cold and hungry, lines of pain and deprivation carved into their faces, Eldritch faces that normally showed no age.
“I understand your anger, and I won’t take such a foolish risk again. But if anything, I’m more determined to win now. I have to, so that I can redistribute wealth and implement long-needed social programs.”
Ferith snorted. “You don’t need to convince me. This isn’t a campaign stop.”
“If an election would work, I’d ask Ruark to let the people decide, but that’s never been our way.”
“No, such things have always been decided in shadows and blood.”
“It’s ironic, when you consider it.”
“What is?”
“That I’m trying to usher in a kinder, gentler future through the most brutal means.”
“Stop waxing philosophical and go to sleep,” Ferith snapped.
On a creaky bed with questionably clean linens, Thalia shouldn’t have been able to sleep at all, but she did. Maybe it was Ferith’s presence on watch that let her snatch a few hours of rest. Whatever the reason, she woke full of grim resolve. She washed up in cold water and popped in the brown contacts. It was like looking at a stranger’s face.
“Ready?” Ferith called softly.
“I am. Is it far to the warehouse?”
“About a kilometer. Do you have something for the necessary bribe?”
Thalia twirled the flower pin in her fingers. Small and pretty, the broach was just valuable enough to tempt someone but not make them question where such a treasure had come from. “Right here. Let’s go.”
They left the hostel in the hazy predawn light. Mist rose up from the ground, which was still cold, but it was already warmer than it had been, creating pockets of fog. The haze gave the town an eerie, ghostly air, as if they crept along the rim of reality, skating up against other worlds. Ferith’s footsteps were supernaturally silent, and Thalia tried to match the assassin’s stealth, but she lacked the same years of dedicated training.
None of the businesses they passed were open, and maybe it was strange to be so hungry when all she needed to do was focus on killing Ruark Gilbraith, but she imagined piping hot pastries stuffed with roast vegetables and cheese, hot bowls of soup thick with barley and—
Stop, she scolded herself. You can eat whatever you want once he’s dead.
“Do you regret marrying the wolf?” Ferith asked suddenly.
“What?” She couldn’t be more surprised if the Noxblade had slapped her.
“I just wondered. You left in secret with only a note. It seemed to me you would have included him in your plan, if you truly valued him.”
“Regret isn’t the right word,” she said. “I still think the move was right for our people. We wouldn’t have come this far without wolf tech and their martial support.”
“But he’s not your partner.”
Thalia sighed. “Let’s stop. I can’t believe I have to say this but stay on task.”
“Understood, Your Highness. But you’re not thinking about your empty stomach anymore, are you?” Ferith grinned.
“That…is true. How did you know?”
“I heard it growling. More than once. But it’s a good detail to sell our story. How likely is it that the heir to a great house would starve herself?”
“You make a good point. Is that the warehouse?”
A squat, corrugated metal building sprawled across broken pavement. From the overall look of Outwater, Ruark Gilbraith had given nothing back to the town that supported his estate. Taxes were set by the province ruler, and Thalia suspected he had been robbing these people for years. The roads were a mess, the people were hungry, some were homeless, and almost everyone wore threadbare clothing. Fury raged through her like wildfire.
“Enough,” she said through her teeth. “This is enough,
