One of the guards paused just long enough to close the doors behind us, but not before cries shattered in the air with glass-sharp edges of sound, an endless series of screams that scaled upward. Through the open crack of the door I saw men twice my size working to bind the king.
Guards ringed us with drawn weapons and kept us at a walk fast enough to force Rory and Herregina to a slow jog. More than once Rory’s hands dipped into the folds of his cloak, but each time Bolt or I waved him off. Pride and fear fought to gain ascendancy on Herregina’s expression. In the end, the size and gift of the guards cowed her and she kept pace.
Gael shifted closer to my side. “Are they going to imprison us?”
Mercifully, the guards slowed as we put enough distance between us and the king’s audience room to muffle the sounds of Boclar’s screaming. “I don’t think so, at least not in the usual sense.” I needed to plant a seed with the guards. Gifted, they would surely be able to hear me, even at a whisper. “I know what afflicts the king, but I don’t know if he’ll let me free him of it.” I turned from Gael and kept my gaze forward.
We came to the north section of the citadel and passed through a room that might have been used for entertaining. Currently, only a few menials were present, working by the light of lamps to prepare it for the next day. The guards led us to an exit, a pair of double doors that met at the top in a point. Despite the scrollwork that gave the wood a delicate look, they were thick enough to comprise an effective prison.
One of the guards waved us through. “We’ll let the chamberlain know of your presence,” he said. “Food and drink will be sent along with anything else you require.”
The door locked behind us.
We stood in a vaulted sitting room with doors to private chambers around the perimeter. I looked at the walls and ceiling. They were of finer, more delicate construction than those in Bunard, but just as capable of concealing any who might wish to spy on us. What I had to do next had to be accomplished with care.
I took Gael’s hand in mine, stifling the twinge of regret that came with doing so while I wore my gloves. I nodded toward the girls. “I’m sure Mirren and Her Majesty are unused to such exertions,” I said carefully. “Why don’t the three of you retire? I’ll bring the food and drink to you when it gets here.”
Her voice dropped to a murmur that barely reached my ears. “In other words, you’re planning something and either you need me out of the way or it’s so outrageous you know I’d try to stop you.”
I kissed her quickly and without warning. Her eyes widened with pleasure and turned a shade lighter before she could prevent it. “I thought I was supposed to be the one with the gift of domere,” I whispered.
“You’re not fighting fair.”
I laughed and kissed her again. Gael could have stopped me if she’d wanted. “Herregina’s going to have questions, a lot of them. Aer willing, we’re headed north to the forest, but if she doesn’t go voluntarily, this is going to go from difficult to ridiculous.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
I donned an expression of innocence that probably didn’t fit. “I’m going to have a talk with Bolt and Rory.”
“Nothing more?” she whispered. She used our proximity to trace one finger along my jawline in a slow caress. And she lectured me about fighting fair?
“Not as far as you know,” I smiled.
She nodded and leaned in for a quick kiss. “Be as safe as you can.” She turned. “Mirren. Your Majesty.” She curtsied. “If you wish it, we can retire to our rooms and Lord Dura will bring us refreshment when it arrives. I’m sure you have many questions.”
Herregina’s brows lowered, and she opened her mouth as if about to issue some royal objection, but at the last she nodded. The three of them left, taking the first door on the right.
Bolt nodded to Rory, and they meandered around the room, looking both bored and impatient as they surveyed the furnishings. After ten minutes they made their way to me where I stood in the center. “I can’t see any spy holes,” Bolt said. “Rory?”
His apprentice shook his head. “But they’re a lot harder to find on this side,” he said. “That’s the whole point.”
I kept my voice low. “Can you pick the lock?”
Rory shot me a withering glance that said I’d just insulted him. “I was the best thief in Bunard, yah?”
I looked to Bolt. “How well do you know this place?”
A knock at the door interrupted him, and a moment later, a handful of servants entered under the direction of a lean-faced man who wore his reserve like a garment. “His Majesty sends his apologies, but his illness prevents him from entertaining you in the manner you deserve.”
I nodded. “No apologies are necessary. The journey here was arduous.” I nodded my gratitude at the trays of food and drink. “You’ve provided everything we require. We will take our rest and meet with King Boclar tomorrow.” I stepped toward the door. “The ladies have already retired for the evening. My guards and I will serve them in your stead.”
I stopped midstep, pretending an idea had just occurred to me. “A moment,” I said. I went through the rooms until I found a writing desk with ink and parchment. After jotting a quick note and blotting it, I folded it and took it to the head servant. “Please deliver this to Her Highness, Erendella.”
The servants left, and I waited for the click of the lock. Then I took one of the trays to Gael’s door and knocked. When it opened, I gaped. Gael had changed from her traveling clothes into
