“Should I ask how you escaped?” Dietan drawls.
“Let’s just say they shouldn’t have bound Marcus’s hands so loosely.”
Marcus grins.
“After we escaped, we asked around near Castle Engel if anyone knew what happened to the Loegrian prince and his bride, and we were lucky enough to run into Lambert here not two days ago,” says Jared. “He brought us to this house.”
“We were waiting for you,” Lambert says to me. “We went to Sirona’s temple looking for a place to hide because we knew Siena would be there, and a priest in a fancy robe like the ones you and Aren are wearing told us we could stay here,” Lambert said.
“The temple didn’t tell us they were hiding you, and I don’t blame them,” Marcus adds.
“They didn’t tell us they were hiding you, either! We thought the safe house would be empty,” says Dietan.
“Seems like it’s not their first time smuggling important refugees,” Jared remarks. “We were just about to scour the city when you arrived.”
“They’ve sealed the whole place. Doubled the guards at every gate, patrols half a day’s ride in all directions. No one goes in or out,” Marcus continues.
“Fine with me,” says Dietan. “Nowhere else I need to be.”
Jared sighs. “There’s a time for humor, my friend, and now is not the time. Princess Katharine’s people won’t be able to get close enough to retrieve us, which was the original plan. They’ve never had the numbers to take on Osian, and certainly don’t now, with Estyrion arming for war. We’re well and truly fucked. Your father’s actually going to have our heads for this—that is, if we get out alive.”
But Dietan is unmoved. “I came to Estyrion for a reason,” he says. “That reason, ultimately, was to win a war. The original plan may have been a bust, but now that we’re here and we know that Osian—Namreth—is in league with the Usurper, and the best way we can help my father and grandfather defeat Penrith is to remove this false king from his tacky golden throne.”
“And how exactly do you plan to do that?” asks Jared.
“I’m going to do what my grandfather should have done all along. Destroy him.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Aren
I’m lying on a narrow cot in the safe house just inches from Dietan’s, but the gap between us might as well be as wide as a bridge between two kingdoms. I toss and turn, unable to sleep ahead of the dangerous mission ahead.
My mind swirls with too many thoughts—hoping my sisters and my father are safe, and grieving the loss of Bing, who sacrificed himself to help us escape. I’m immeasurably grateful for my new friends sleeping beside me. They risked so much to get Dietan and me out of the castle alive.
If Mother could see me now, I wonder if she’d be proud that her sensible eldest daughter grew up to plot assassinations with a handsome foreign prince.
My thoughts turn to the night in the stable when I thought Dietan would die of fever. Then the magical night when Dietan and I woke up together from a haze of finally,finallyacknowledging what we meant to each other. Was that just this morning? I thought we would have more time. More time to kiss and heal in the temple. As if he can sense what I’m thinking, Dietan throws his arm over me, bridging the gap. With his hand in mine, I’m finally able to sleep.
In the morning, Dietan confers with the team, bustling about the table, drawing lines on the map, moving tiny figurines. They propose strategies, then tear them apart, debating how they might fail or succeed. Dietan leads the discussion, his tone confident and commanding—like a prince. No, like a future king.
“Marcus, if you please.” He motions to the map on the table as everyone in the house gathers around him.
The general nods, standing. “Based on the information we’ve gathered, Namreth will soon march on Loegria. We have days to prevent this, maybe less. As you know, he’s closed off the city gates, and no one is allowed to leave, but we’ve learned that people are still allowed to enter at a single, heavily fortified point.” He turns to Arnfried. “You scouted the eastern gate?”
Arnfried nods. “Entire caravans are being let inside the city, and we think we know why. The king is throwing a banquet.”
“How can you be certain?” I ask.
“He’s done it before to mark the start of a campaign. He throws a banquet to rally his troops and honor his generals,” Arnfried explains.
“More like scare the shit out of his generals,” Lambert says knowingly. “They know it’ll be their last meal, if they fail.”
Intel starts to flow more freely from Arnfried. “According to the castle staff, this is the biggest banquet he’s ever planned. Guards are bringing people from all over Estyrion to augment the existing staff. Especially in the kitchen and banquet hall.” He gives me a meaningful look. I’m glad we spoiled the mad king’s plans with our kitchen jailbreak.
“It’s going to be huge,” Lambert adds. “Big drunken orgy, no doubt. Lots of wine, lots of food. The king and his high-ranking officers will be occupied.”
“Then it’s the perfect time to strike,” says Marcus. “They won’t suspect a thing.”
