“I clean the dungeons. Clean the blood after,” Lambert says. “Osian always makes a big ole mess of him.”
Tears stream down my cheeks. I’m numb.
Dietan. Tortured. Screaming in pain.
“That’s enough, Lambert,” Bing says. “Spare the lady the details.”
Bing asks Nelson for more information about the horses, but I don’t hear the rest. I’m fighting to wrap my head around the fact that Dietan is still in the castle, still alive. My mind races with a million thoughts that overlap incomprehensibly with one another.
If Namreth had believed I was Dietan’s bride-to-be, blessed by the Oracle and sealed with a treaty, I’d be down in the dungeons with him, just as Lambert said. A future queen of Loegria and Alarice would have been valuable to him, especially if he’s planning to march on Loegria soon.
Did Dietan…save me somehow? By telling Namreth that he didn’t love me, did he intentionally spare me from the torments he now faces?
No. That’s impossible.
I saw him drink the henbane water. He could tell Namreth nothing but the truth: that I mean nothing to him.
I swallow as the voices of the others hum like a swarm of bees around me. But what if… What if Dietan found a way to lie even after drinking the henbane? Didn’t I also watch Namreth drink the henbane? Surely that means the mad king has found a way to lie under the influence, which means it’s possible…
My heart pricks with hope, even as I tell myself it’s just wishful thinking. There’s no way Dietan’s as clever, as powerful as Namreth, is there?
He’s just…a fool…right?
And above all, he’s a liar…a skilled, convincing liar who has concealed the secret of the Rings from everyone, even his own mother, for a decade.
But I remember how brave he was, fighting the Kilandrar. And how he knew exactly who Katharine was—and probably even led us to her in the middle of the vast Waste. And that the other reason he is here in Estyrion was to persuade his uncle to be an ally. Dietan is more than a messy drunk who sneaks out at night. He’s also more than the carefree, philandering prince he pretends to be.
I did know him. I believed in him. And I loved him.
Even if Dietan truly doesn’t love me, how can I live with myself, languishing in the kitchen knowing he’s being tortured? No matter how much he’s hurt me, I’ve got to do something about it.
“How long until you think the king marches to war?” Bing asks.
“Why, so we can all escape?” Tess snorts. “Where would we go? The desert will kill us first.”
“Arnfried swears there’s a lost tribe in the desert, that his mother is some kind of queen who might shelter us, if we’re discreet and can find them,” says Bing. “But maybe the kid’s just delusional.” I don’t know if I should confirm her existence. If one of them gets tortured next, I can’t endanger Katherine’s whole village.
I interrupt, catching Lambert’s gaze. “Can you get me to him? To the prince?”
Lambert’s eyes widen, fearful, his bravado gone. “I don’t know. The king is keeping my family… If I get caught…” He brushes his hand nervously over his shorn head.
“All of us are risking everything by simply meeting here,” says Bing.
“Your prince is as good as dead,” Tess says. Siena shushes her.
I tamp down a sob in my throat. I can’t cry. Not right now. Not when there’s work to do.
Dietan’s still alive, and as long as he’s alive, there’s hope of rescuing him. I may not have the looks of my sisters, or the skills of Lydia or Marcus, or the title of princess, but I have hope. Lots of it.
…
By morning, I’m back in the kitchen, folding layers into the biscuits, but my mind is deep in the dungeons of the castle. Dietan is down there somewhere, alone and hurting. I’ve had to restart the dough three times over because I’m so distracted.
I look up and notice Siena, the scullery maid, at her daily task of bringing a basket of fresh herbs to the pantry. I sidle up beside her, gently pulling her deeper inside.
“Something wrong?” Siena asks, startled. Her basket is full of herbs and edible flowers, a rainbow of colors and fragrances, all to be used for the king’s meals.
“Nothing’s wrong—I mean, yes, everything is wrong in this place. But I need to ask you something.”
