Her eyes went wide. “Yes.”
I waited but she didn’t answer. “Can you tell me?”
A tear welled in one eye, and she wiped it away, shaking her head no. She moved across the room, her back covering up one of the peepholes. When it was covered, she pointed to the window, then made a motion like she was sleeping.
Sleeping. Who was…? I crossed the room quickly, and covered my mouth as I whispered. “Is it Altair, the prince?” Her mouth hung slack, and her eyes welled with panic, almost terror.
“Naari, I will help Altair if I can. Where is he?” I rested a hand on my hair where she knew I had threaded a garrote wire, and then on my bodice, to one of my hidden knives. “I am very skilled.”
She stared at me for a long moment, then nodded, her gaze growing resolute. She moved across the room and stuffed pots of lip tint into the spy holes; the rounded bottoms of the containers fit perfectly. “Come.” She fluffed the bed and filled it with pillows to look like someone was under the sheets if they glanced in the room. Then she took my hand and led me through the connecting bathroom.
Behind the toilet screen was a wall of bamboo, planted in small pots filled with water. They had to be at least twelve feet high, and they made the room seem like it was a part of the jungle. Then Naari moved the bamboo aside like a thick curtain, and pulled me down a long, green corridor that led outside.
Around us, servants moved quietly. A few of them glanced at us, but none of them said a word, or tried to stop us. Naari nodded at them like nothing was wrong. Maybe she trusted them all. Maybe she didn’t care if the regent discovered where we were, though the fake sleeping Roya in the bed indicated that there would be a problem if I was found missing.
We wandered down paths made of crushed shells, between large stands of bamboo and trees with red trumpet-shaped flowers. Date palms, banana, and papaya trees hung thick with fruit. The sensation of being drawn, being pulled forward, increased as we walked, and I fought to keep my pace slow and even.
Not that the nearby servants would have cared. They all acted subdued, their universally dark eyes shadowed by sadness. When Naari pulled back a bamboo screen and led me into a flat-roofed building a short distance from the main house, I realized why.
The room she led me into wasn’t a sickroom, but a shrine. A raised bed rested in the center of the space, covered with white sheets and draped with a gauzy screen that fell from the ceiling. The walls were made up of tiny bamboo strips woven together, and painted with scenes from the ocean: dolphins, flying fish, whales, and more fantastical creatures like mermaids, mermen, and dragons.
Naari pulled my hand gently toward the bed, and we both stepped up the riser. She drew back the gauzy curtain, and I gasped.
The man on the bed was possibly the most handsome—most beautiful—creature I had ever seen. His dark hair fell in long waves from his forehead and down the sides of his pillow. His eyes were closed, but the sweep of his brow and the curve of his jawline and chin were like a statue I’d seen once in Verdan City of the Goddess’s primary consort. His face was beardless, and his skin was perfect, if a bit paler than the others I’d seen since arriving on the island. He looked healthy and whole, as if he were merely sleeping in the heat of the day.
His arms, though… The muscles were atrophied, each one clearly defined under the skin, and too slender. I let my gaze fall to his legs, and his feet. They were weakened as well, the skin almost translucent, fragile.
“How long?” I murmured. “He must have been like this for months.”
“Year,” Naari breathed. “One… No, two. Two year.” She held up two fingers.
How was he still alive? I didn’t want to think what the regent had been doing, how he had managed such evil. I had lived something like it, long ago, trapped and waiting to be taken and used by evil men. I had been just as helpless. I would not leave this man to that fate.
I couldn’t; he was the reason for the growing feeling of restlessness. Standing here, in front of him, the incessant, vague tugging had dissipated. Had his plight drawn me to him?
I leaned down and pinched his lips open with one hand, taking a quick breath. Then I checked his finger and toenails, pressing my fingers against a few points. He was dehydrated, and if I was right…
“Little queen, what do you think?” Thorn’s voice at the back of the room didn’t surprise me, though it made Naari jump.
“How did you find me?”
“I can always find you, Roya.”
“I hope so.” I smiled at Naari to reassure her and joined Thorn at the back of the room. “I think it’s a combination of some sort of natural cyanide—his breath smelled of almonds and something else—and a sedative. Maybe two. But there’s no way he’d stay alive for so long with that going into him regularly. I wish I spoke more Haviran; I could get better details from Naari.”
“Kavin speaks the language a bit,” Thorn said softly, respect in his voice. “More every day. He’s a true scholar, that one. He’s gambling in the barracks now with the regent’s guards.”
“Letting them fleece him, yes? He’s done a good job acting the fool so far.”
“He did. And he has plenty of gold. We’ve been trying to find out what the regent’s endgame is, and why…” He stopped, and I shot him a glare.
“You knew about Altair, what was happening to him?” He pursed his lips and gave a short nod. “You’ve been here before, haven’t you? You must tell me these things, Thorn. I’m not a child anymore. Don’t hide things from me now, or you’ll get us all killed.”
“You’re right. Protecting you is a hard habit to break.” The muscle in his jaw flexed. “I watched a man send a messenger bird away not long after we arrived. I’m not sure where it flew, or whether it was to reveal my presence, or…” He stopped, shooting Naari a calculating glance. He didn’t trust her as much as I did. “Today, a bird returned. Something’s happening. The regent canceled our fishing plans; he’s in meetings with his top advisors. They’re planning something. Don’t eat anything at dinner, and take some charcoal beforehand, just in case. If my assumption is correct, the regent needs to get rid of you as fast as possible.”
“Who can we trust? I know the Omegas here were sold or killed, or something—”
“I don’t speak enough of their language to question the lower-caste servants, who might tell me the truth.” His gaze darted to where the servants walked outside the screens. “They universally loved their queen, and Altair as well. The regent has his guards who are loyal, and they seem bloodthirsty enough. My guess is he’s threatened the servants’ families if they help Altair.”
