“As you wish,” Althorn said. “I’ll have a proper letter sent to your house, with a list of demands for the royalists.”
“It will be easier if you indicate ahead of time which demands are negotiable,” Emily pointed out, tiredly. She’d never quite understood why diplomats spent so much time arguing over points that both sides knew were never going to be resolved. Life would be so much simpler if people just came out and said whatever they wanted to say. “The royalist fire-breathers will make it hard for Dater to consider anything if they believe they’re expected to accept your demands without any significant changes.”
Althorn laughed. “And my fire-breathers will feel the same way, too,” he said. He shot her a brilliant smile. “Good luck.”
Emily turned away and headed down the road to the house. There were even more troops on the street, marching in a show of force. Were they trying to impress her, she wondered, or were they posing for royalist spies? She kept hearing stories of spies being uncovered, dragged into the open and brutally murdered... and yet, there were always more. The revolution was already starting to eat its own. Emily remembered the rebel council and wondered, grimly, which of them would be the first to make a bid for ultimate power.
“Emily,” Lady Barb said, as she stepped into the house. “How did it go?”
“Poorly,” Emily said. She removed her cloak and hung it on the wall, then stepped into the dining room. Prince Hedrick was sitting there, pretending to read a book. “They have a bunch of impossible demands.”
She closed her eyes and recited them from memory. The more she thought about them, the more she was sure nothing was going to be resolved. There was no way in hell the aristocracy would agree to give up their lands, their titles and everything else that made them special. And yet, they’d lost half of their lands already. There was no way to put that particular genie back in the bottle. Even trying would trigger another revolution.
And the rebels will ask, quite reasonably, why they shouldn’t take the rest? Emily acknowledged, not for the first time, that she sympathized. Why tolerate the aristocracy if you don’t have to?
“Impossible,” Hedrick said, when she’d finished. “My brother will never agree.”
“We’ll see,” Emily said. She silently accepted a cup of something warm and steaming from Silent. “I’ll leave tomorrow. Do you want to accompany me?”
Hedrick frowned. “They said I wasn’t allowed to leave the house.”
“I can hide you,” Emily said. It would be easy enough. She could turn Hedrick into something innocuous and conceal him in her saddlebags. As long as the rebels didn’t have a magician on guard duty, she should be able to smuggle him out without any real risk. “Or I could simply ask permission to take you with me.”
“It would be wise,” Lady Barb said. “What can you do here?”
Hedrick flushed, angrily. “Represent my brother?”
Emily shrugged. The rebels weren’t interested in talking to Prince Hedrick. She wasn’t even sure why they’d agreed to let him enter the city. He had too many enemies for his safety to be guaranteed, whatever the rebel council wanted. And yet... had they hoped she’d deliver him into their hands? Or... she frowned as a thought struck her. The rebels might have considered crowning Hedrick instead, then making a deal with him. It wouldn’t have been legal, but...
They might have made it work, she thought. And even if they didn’t, it would cause a great deal of confusion.
“You can choose,” she said. She was tempted to order him out of the city, but it would cause too many other problems. “Stay or go?”
“Stay,” Hedrick said. “It is my duty.”
“Right now, your duty is not to get killed,” Lady Barb reminded him. “You’re second in line to the throne.”
“I can’t run, either,” Hedrick said. He shook his head. “I’ll stay.”
“As you wish,” Emily said. She stood. She’d need to check on the horses, then plan the ride to the army camp. “I just hope you don’t come to regret it.”
And, her thoughts added silently, that I don’t come to regret it, too.
Chapter Eighteen
EMILY HADN’T REALIZED JUST HOW CONSTRAINING, and claustrophobic, the city had become until she rode through the rebel checkpoint and headed onto the road leading south. She detested horses with a passion - she’d certainly never shared Alassa’s passion for the smelly brutes - but it was almost a relief to be riding away from the city. The air was fresh and clear, the scent of summer wafting across her nostrils as she galloped onwards. It felt as if she’d stepped into a whole new world.
She sighed, inwardly, as Lady Barb galloped after her. She’d urged the older woman to remain behind, if only to supervise the prince, but Lady Barb had insisted on accompanying her. Emily was fairly sure she was in no danger from the Crown Prince - Dater was smart enough not to kill the messenger - yet she had to admit the lands teemed with displaced peasants, bandits and demobilized soldiers. There was a risk of running into someone who didn’t know her or refused to accept the safe conducts that both sides - and the White Council - had given her.
And yet, I had to leave Silent alone, she thought. That could end badly.
She winced. Silent had hidden depths - there weren’t many maids who could drive a team of horses - but she was defenseless. Prince Hedrick had tried to flirt with her... what would happen, Emily wondered, if he tried to push the issue? He’d never dream of pressing his attentions on a noblewoman, or a sorceress, but Silent was neither. The aristocracy didn’t consider it rape when a nobleman forced himself on
