Liane sighed in frustration. Not nearly enough. But it was the closest she had to answers. At least she had the woman’s confession that Heinrich promised to make her empress. It wasn’t much but better than nothing.
“Would you be willing to come to the palace tomorrow and tell your story?” Liane pressed.
“I dunno...” She trailed off, frowning.
“That or I tell the City Watch what I heard you say about being made empress. That could be considered treason,” Liane added. Thinking a threat would ensure her cooperation.
Her face paled as she looked from Erich to Liane. “You’re lying.”
Erich cupped her chin, turning her to look into his eyes. “You must help. The fate of the kingdom depends on it.”
Her shoulders relaxed once more as she nodded. “Alright. I’ll do it.”
A knot of tension unraveled in her chest. She’d done it. She had some proof of Heinrich’s treason, not much, but better than nothing at all.
“Meet me at the palace gates after third bell,” Liane said, meeting her eyes once more to make sure she knew she’d make good on her threat.
Just then, a deep, echoing boom rang through the room, and all heads swiveled to the door.
The bartender cupped his hands around his mouth and, in a bellowing voice, said,“You heard that, last bells. You lot get out!”
Curfew was upon them, and she had to get back to the castle.
23
The room erupted in chaos. Gamblers scooped up their winnings, and bouncers traveled from bed to bed, rousing the inebriated from their stupors, forcing them out the door. A rush of patrons stampeded the exit, and Erich, on instinct, placed himself between them and Liane, pinning her to the bar.
“I have to get back before last bell.” The color had drained from her face as panic settled over her features.
His window of opportunity was closing as quickly as the bottleneck of bodies rushing the exit. But he couldn’t abandon her now, and besides, he was heading back toward the palace himself. Getting out the front door was out of the question; they’d only waste time or get in a scuffle trying to exit. Running a hand through his hair, he surveyed the emptying tavern. There must be another way. One of the women they’d been talking to tapped him on the shoulder.
“There’s a back door; follow us.” She pulled up the bar and allowed them behind it.
“Let’s go,” he said, tugging Liane behind him.
In the storeroom behind the counter, crates of liquor sat in neat piles around a back exit. The two women went out first and out into a dingy alleyway that connected with the crowded street. Patrons spilled out of taverns and brothels, seeking shelter before last bell. Using his shoulder like a battering ram, Erich pushed a path through for them, but progress was painfully slow, and on the main streets, there would be others rushing to get inside before twelfth bell. If they walked from this distance, they’d never make it back in time.
They needed a ride, but the Velvet District was too narrow for carriages, and others who’d had the same thought as him, were rushing for the three carriages waiting at the end of the street. Picking up the pace, Erich practically dragged Liane behind him as he watched the first and second drive away. The third remained, but a few drunken patrons stood between it and them. They were nearly there; he could smell the scent of horse and see the craggy lines in the carriage driver’s face. But before he could climb inside, another couple beat them to it, slamming the door in his face, and Erich watched as the last one drove away.
Warning bells rang, rattling him down to the bone. A quarter till.
“We’ll have to run,” Liane said, meeting his gaze with a confidence that surprised him in its sincerity.
“I was thinking the same.”
With a playful smirk, she ran ahead of him, weaving through the crowds of drunken patrons stumbling their way back to homes and inns. The City Watch was already out on patrol, scooping up unconscious users from the gutter.
Despite the urgency of their situation, he felt strangely light. Worries about the evening faded away as Liane sharpened into focus. Her red hair snapped like a banner behind her as her giddy laughter ripped from her throat as they ran up Temple Street against the flow of pilgrims while the curfew bell tolled.
The palace was in sight, when Liane skidded to a halt, her excited laughter dying on the wind. The palace gates were closed, but the bells continued to ring. Ten minutes until curfew.
“They closed the gates early?” Liane frowned, her shoulders tensing.
Fritz. It must have been his diversion. Erich cursed himself. As far as Fritz knew, Erich was in place. Trinity above, don’t let him be too late. But he couldn’t leave Liane standing here.
“Why would they close the gate?” She huffed, pacing back and forth, her red brows pinched together.
A patrol of City Watch marched their way. They were rounding up stragglers already, and they’d lock them in prison too if he didn’t find her a place to stay. Just imagining her locked in that filthy cell overnight, being petitioned by some unsavory character, made his stomach clench.
