by Katy Haye
I was impatient with myself for not realising that earlier. No wonder it had made my skin crawl. While speaking out against magic and beating me for using mine, my own mother had used magic against me. I wondered what her spells were intended to do – make me more compliant to Mage Redmor’s enchantments, probably. No wonder my magic had sunk deeper into me; Mother had chased it there to leave me victim to the Mage’s spells. I was glad I’d foiled her intentions and my magic had been strong enough to keep his from acting on me.
Mother rolled the bracelet over her wrist, tucking it out of sight below her sleeve. Then she rose and left the room.
I stared after her, then started, realising I could move once more. I shuffled past her window as quickly as I could, to the safety of the next expanse of stone.
Jaran’s room was next. The windows were open while the shutters had been pulled across. I peered forward to see between the narrow gap where they met. Luck was with me. Unlike Mother’s rooms, his room was empty of both himself and servants. I crept past the window that led to his bedroom, checking that the living space next door was also empty.
It was quiet and dim. Smiling, I pushed the shutters as far as I could, slipping my finger through the gap I made to push up the latch holding them together. It gave with a snap and the shutters glided open.
Nothing. No one was lurking in a corner to trap me.
My nose wrinkled as I scrambled down from the windowsill onto the thick rug. Jaran’s room was a tip. Clearly, a prince wasn’t expected to be tidy. Clothes were scattered across the end of a bed that I was sure hadn’t been neatly made by him. A tunic had slithered off the covers to crumple on the floor. A nine dragons’ gold board was set out on a table in the corner, abandoned mid-game. I took two steps and my foot landed on something firm and out of place on the carpet.
I moved my foot to find two bronze pennies, dropped by my brother, their loss unnoticed. I might have ignored them, but I remembered the beggar, and the penny entry I’d needed the night before. Who knew when money would be useful. I scooped both up and slotted them into my sash, then crossed to the door that led out to the corridor, pleased when I peered through that keyhole and saw the wall on the opposite side, the view unhindered by the bulk of a guard.
Matters had finally worked in my favour. Jaran was somewhere having fun, and his guards were with him. I cracked the door open and slipped out, heading down to the cellars as quietly as though I were a servant about her work. As silent and unobserved as a thief.
Lyo – A Twist in Complexity
The guards had got in a few good punches and kicks as they pushed him into the cell, but they hadn’t beaten him as badly as he expected. Two days to execution and they probably wanted their prisoner to look like a terrifying threat that would give the Muirlanders nightmares, rather than a broken nineteen-year-old they might empathise with as a son or brother.
He hoped they wouldn’t see him at all. His execution was an appointment he was very happy to miss, if the gods could be persuaded to look kindly on him.
When he didn’t return, Kiri and Pell would know something had gone wrong. Gods, Kiri had been expecting it since before he left their rooms. Getting him out would be difficult, but Pell was a talented man. Lyo knew he would do everything he could to save him.
He needed to think past this immediate threat. The gods had handed him so much good fortune he wasn’t sure how best to make use of it. The opportunities made his head pound, and the thumping of his aching head didn’t help him think. Relle was a witch; well, he’d known that already. More importantly, she wasn’t maid Relle, she was Princess Jurelle. He should have worked it out; she’d given him her name, after all.
If all he wanted was to stop the marriage, he could do that by blabbing her secret to anyone who would listen. It would be denied, but gossip that rich would fly around the palace and reach the king’s ears within an hour. He shut his eyes. And Princess Jurelle would die. He knew what they did to women with magic in this country.
Even if it hadn’t been Relle, the idea would have appalled him. Magic was mighty and glorious, and its practitioners deserved better than the miserable death Muirland meted out to them.
To allow her to die would be a shameful waste of a resource he could make far better use of.
If only he wasn’t imprisoned.
He rubbed his wrists, where the manacles chafed against his skin. His mission had taken a twist in complexity. He’d come to Muirland intending to steal from the king. Now, he needed to free himself and steal both the egg and the princess from the palace, and get both safely to Prince Ryss.
The other sin his siblings had often complained about was his tendency to overreach himself.
He couldn’t really argue with that one.
15 – A Kiss will Do It
I paused at a turn in the stairs and used magic to shift my face again, so anyone I met wouldn’t know I was the princess. Then I hurried down and down staircase after staircase, walking swiftly and keeping my face averted whenever I passed a servant or guard. So much for my father’s increased security: they all saw me as what I pretended to be – a harmless servant. It occurred to me that a female assassin could walk into the palace unchallenged. Lyo should have sent his sister.
The luxury of the palace vanished when I reached the kitchens. Carpet was replaced with plain wood for the stairs, the walls bare plaster. It got even worse the next floor down. The steps that led to the underground cells were hewn from stone, rough at the edges and only smooth in the middle because they’d been scuffed by hundreds of feet over more years than I cared to think about. The stairwell was shadowed, lit only by a flare that spluttered and cast as much smoke as it did light.
Midway down, I paused, craning around the corner to see what lay beyond. I supposed it would be guarded, although I hoped past hope that it might not be. Maybe it would be a relatively easy thing to get Lyo out of his cell. No guards, and bolts that I had the strength to draw back. That would be perfect.
But Father wouldn’t allow his prisoners to be kept in so flimsy a prison.
Three cells were carved into the three walls of the dim, underground space. Two of their doors were set open, so it was easy to see where Lyo was imprisoned. Easy to see; impossible to reach. In front of the cells was a tiny lobby where two guards sat at a folding table, playing cards to pass the time. Lyo was quite definitely guarded, and the area wasn’t large enough for me to sneak past the men to the barred doorway beyond – even if I had the key to open the door.
I tried to make myself as small and unobtrusive as possible while I thought up a plan. Here was a chance to be strong, I reminded myself. This was a setback, no more. I just had to figure a way around it.
“Hey!”
I froze, snapping back against the wall, but it was too late. I’d been spotted.
“Another one!” the older guard said, rolling his eyes as though inconvenienced but unsurprised by my appearance.
I frowned, not understanding. I thought about fleeing back up the steps, but that wouldn’t help Lyo.
The younger of the guards appeared in front of me. He smiled, which surprised me enough to keep me in place. “Straggler, eh?” he asked.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I admitted.
“Come to gawp at the prisoner?” he said, his eyes darting over my face.
“It’s always girls,” the other guard grumbled. “You’d think they’d never seen a man before.”
“Tell me about it.” The guard facing me craned back to address his fellow. “Can’t see what the fuss is about myself.”
The other guard, who still hadn’t looked up from his cards, laughed unkindly. “He’ll look better when the bruises fade. Oh – wait!” He laughed as though he’d made a joke.
The guard in front of me smiled and I wanted to strike both of them. They were joking about a man’s death! Didn’t they care… No, of course they didn’t care. They served my father. They cared only for what he did. Brutality was ingrained
in them all. I tried to focus on the other part of what they’d said. “C-can I see him?”
The older guard finally looked round at that. He set his cards down on the flimsy, folding table and strolled over to me, hitching his trousers as he looked me up and down. The look in his eyes sent shivers along my spine. “Do you have payment?”
“Payment?”
Again, my mind whirled, putting everything together. I wasn’t surprised when he named his price. “A kiss will do it. A kiss and a squeeze of that pretty tush.”
I didn’t know how he’d managed to form an opinion on my backside since he couldn’t have seen it from where he stood. I straightened, about to refuse when the younger guard spoke up. “Or a penny.”
The older guard cursed under his breath.
The younger one grinned. “You asked a penny of the cook.”
“That’s different. She’s old.” He shivered. “Who’d want to kiss that?”
The younger guard met my eyes as he answered. “And maybe this girl doesn’t want to kiss you.” He smiled, complicity gleaming in his eyes. Perhaps he hadn’t had all compassion destroyed by serving my father, not yet. “A kiss or a penny, for five minutes gawping at the Surran boy. Whichever you’d prefer.”
I wasn’t about to kiss either of them, and I gave silent thanks for my brother’s carelessness. I reached into my sash, presenting two bronze pennies, one for each.
“Huh.” The older one grunted in dissatisfaction as he snatched the coins. “It’s still five minutes.” He jerked his thumb and the younger guard stepped out of my way so I could cross to the cell.
Three broad, solid metal bars ran down the middle of the door, too close-set for anyone to squeeze through, but leaving enough of a gap to make it easy to see if the prisoner tried to escape – or harm themselves. I leaned close, searching for him. “Lyo!” I hissed. Straw was littered across the floor, the only bed or blanket the prisoner was allowed. “It’s me, Relle,” I added, keeping my voice low so the guards wouldn’t hear. They seemed to have returned to their card game, but I was sure they’d be watching for anything unusual.
The pile of straw shifted, and Lyo’s face appeared. He rose, and I realised how small the cells were. Lyo couldn’t stand up fully, his head stooped to avoid the ceiling. As he walked the two steps that brought him to the bars, I also saw that his hands had been manacled. I winced when I caught a glimpse of bloody marks where the metal had broken the skin. It seemed like a horrible precursor to what my father intended – those wrists cut right through by a blow from the executioner’s axe.
I shuddered, glanced back at the guards and spoke as loud as I dared. “I’m so sorry.”
He leaned a shoulder against the bars, stooping so his face was level with mine. “What are you sorry for? I tried to break into the palace and I got caught. It’s my own fault.”
“I tried to warn you – they increased the patrols when the dragonette was taken. But I couldn’t get out of the palace.” And yet, it wasn’t entirely my fault he was now facing a death sentence. “Why did you own up? We both know you didn’t take the dragonette. Why did you say you did?” I might have been able to talk my father out of the sentence he’d given, but not when Lyo goaded him as he’d done.
“I didn’t want you to tell him you’d taken the dragonette.”
“Why not? I did.” I shivered. If Father knew what I’d done, he’d send me to Surran early, if he was feeling generous. I didn’t want Lyo to suffer, but I was glad not to have accelerated my fate.
“I don’t want you to get in trouble for my sake,” Lyo told me.
“Why not? You’re in trouble for mine.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, but you’re worth it.”
My heart seemed to strike my ribs, the collision making me dizzy. “I’m not worth anything,” I managed. “I’m just a servant.”
“Are you?”
Another smash against my ribs. I remembered the feeling I’d had in the crowd, that he’d recognised me as the princess. He couldn’t know who I truly was. “Yes,” I said firmly. “I’m just a servant.”
He lifted a shoulder, that disorientating smile playing around his lips. “And I’m just a thieving Surrana.”
“Do you think it’s funny?” Tears pricked at my eyes and I blinked them back. “I don’t know how to help you, Lyo.”
“It’s not your job to help me. I can take care of myself.”
“Not on current evidence,” I snapped.
He looked away, the clank loud where his manacles struck the bars. “If you want to help me, then stay away. Forget me and take care of yourself.”
I couldn’t bear to hear him talk like that. I’d come here to see if I could rescue him, but he didn’t even seem to want to be rescued. “I wanted to help you,” I muttered, turning away.
His hand shot out through the bars, gripping my arm. I twitched in alarm at the sudden movement. “Don’t marry the king,” he hissed.
“What?” I wrenched my sleeve away, darting a nervous glance at the guards. They were engrossed in their game. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I dared a look at his face and understood that my first thought when he’d met my gaze as the princess was right. He had seen through my magical disguise. He didn’t even bother to argue; his brown eyes simply blazed into mine. “The Surran prince will return and take back his throne. And I’d hate for you to be caught in the cross-fire when he does.”
“What do you care?” My chest ached. The only person who cared what happened to me was a stranger.
He lifted a shoulder, his gaze falling away from mine as though he regretted the warning. I thought he wouldn’t answer, but his words broke the silence at last. “You set the dragonette free. Anyone who wouldn’t let a dragon be caged deserves better than that monster.”
I shivered as the stories I wished I hadn’t heard came to the front of my mind. I shook my head. They didn’t matter. I faced Lyo again. “I’ll get you out of here,” I promised.
He huffed and pain clenched my heart. Did he think that ambition was laughable?
“Don’t worry about me,” he said. “I can handle myself.” He shifted, facing me straight-on through the bars, pressing his face into the gap. “You should take care of yourself. You’re strong, Relle. If you release the strength inside you, you can bring this whole kingdom down, I know it.”
I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. “I don’t want to bring the kingdom down. I just wish … I could be free.”
“Then set yourself free, and fly far from here.”
I bit my lip. I wanted to say that I’d go if we could go together, but that was ridiculous. He didn’t want me, I still had no idea how to get him out, and what did I think I was doing with a Surranese refugee? I didn’t know the first thing about Lyo; I was just clinging to the first person I’d met who’d been kind to me, like a parched woman in the desert gulping at a puddle with no idea as to whether it held water or poison.
“Time’s up!” The guards turned. The older one rose. I didn’t bother to appeal for more time. There was no point anyway. I couldn’t get him out, not like this, with guards at his door and the key to his cell carefully guarded.
I began to move away.
Lyo hissed, “Relle!” I paused. “Go to my sister. She can help you get away.”
I remembered the fierce girl on the street. She didn’t strike me as being the helpful sort. Especially not if I greeted her with the news that her brother was dead, or about to be killed.
“Do it,” Lyo muttered. I nodded, then the guard grabbed my arm and wrenched me away.
At the top of the stairs I slipped out of one of the servants’ doors into the gardens. Lyo had told me to go to his sister. The idea was terrifying, but I’d sooner face her while there was still a chance to save Lyo, rather than when I brought her news of his death.
Still in my guise as a servant I crossed the lawns, walking quickly as though I had orders to be somewhere. As I dr
ew close to the wall, though, my steps slowed. Despair clawed at me. I couldn’t escape into the city, even with my face disguised.
All the rohannan bushes had been cut down and removed, leaving only a smooth expanse of repaired, ten-foot-high wall that I didn’t have a hope of scaling.
16 – I Can’t Win
I fidgeted as I waited to be granted access to Father’s private office the next morning. The idea that had seemed perfect the night before felt like madness now. But I’d see it through. I had to free Lyo, and if that meant arguing with my father once more, then I’d do it.
“His Majesty will see you now.” Father’s steward gave no indication of the king’s state of mind when he gestured me inside. He closed the door behind me and I wasn’t sure whether to be grateful for privacy, or sorry that I didn’t have a witness.
Father was seated at a wide desk scattered with papers, a quill in one hand. I dropped a deep curtsy, remaining close to the floor, knees bent, eyes downcast, until Father grunted at me to stand up.
“What do you want now, daughter?”
He wasn’t in a mellow mood, but at least he was listening. “I have a concern, Father.”
Another grunt. “Do you now. What is it?”
“I will be leaving for Surran soon. I will always be your daughter, but soon I will also be the queen of the Surranese people and a time of greater closeness between our two countries will begin.”
“Hmm.”
I straightened my shoulders, looking at my father straight on. I was petitioning, but I wasn’t begging. Queens didn’t beg. “I am concerned that the execution of the Surranese boy will send the wrong message.”
Father’s brow drew together. “He’s a thief. He admitted as much. I cannot let him go free.”
“No, not free.” My heart was pounding. Was he actually entertaining the idea? “But there shouldn’t be bloodshed between our two countries. And my elevation to queen shouldn’t be marked by a Surranese death on Muirland soil. You could send him to the mines, instead. Or perhaps exile him. You might consider the matter a wedding gift.”