“It wasn’t worth the risk.”
“There are still explosives to recover,” I say.
At my back, Thorin gives a humorless laugh. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and the rest of the palace is equally deserted.”
“I’m not counting on it,” says Saeth.
I’m not either.
The throne room isn’t empty at all. It’sfull.
We hear voices from the stairwell thirty feet down the hallway, and we cling to the shadows long before we dare to emerge. Light shines into the hallway from the chandelier, and at first there are so many voices that it takes me a few minutes just to make sense of who’s in attendance. Captain Huxley of the palace guard. Arella Cherry, who I always thought was an ally, and someone who stood for the people. Allisander Sallister, who must be behind this whole thing. Jasper Gold, who always just wanted silver and gold to line his pockets. Laurel Pepperleaf, her high-pitched voice only backing down when her father overrides her.
Quint and I exchange a glance when we realizeheis here.
I keep thinking about those battleships he sent after my brother, and I want to take one of the guards’ crossbows and go shoot him right now.
Roydan Pelham, the consul of the Sorrowlands, says, “The king’s letter claims his innocence. Are wecertainhe knew of the poison?”
“Ofcoursehe’s going to claim innocence!” Allisander blusters. “What’s he going to say? ‘I’ve been poisoning the people for years, help me keep it a secret, friends!’ ”
“Roydan.” Arella sighs. “You’ve seen the shipping logs from Trader’s Landing. This is exactly what we’ve been suspecting for months.”
What?I want to scream.What have you been suspecting?
“Why don’t you share with the rest of us?” says Jasper, soundingexasperated. “Because I also received a letter, and I must say that it’s very convincing, Allisander. It’s a bit concerning that you haven’t been able to recover the king yet. The people don’t seem willing to turn him in, despite all these claims ofpoisonthat you keep making.”
“You must see the proof in your own sector,” says Allisander. “No one is getting very sick anymore. It’sclearthat without the king on the throne, the poisoning has stopped.”
Something smacks against a table, like the sound of papers being thrown down. “Here,” says Arella. “Over the last year, Roydan and I have been monitoring the shipments in and out of Trader’s Landing. When we began to see some anomalies, we had to go through the shipping logs, and we discovered some erratic records going back fordecades. It seems that King Lucas began the poisonings with the intent to sell a ‘cure’ and share the profits with Ostriary.” She gives a heavy sigh. “Consul Montague may have been trying to put a stop to it, because you saw what happened to him. Then King Harristan encouraged the Moonflower production to continue, knowing the root growth in the northern sectors would continue to aid in spreading the poison. It’s no wonder he named his brother as King’s Justice. It’s no wonder the penalties for smuggling were so high. Theyhadto be so brutal to keep this kind of scheme in place for so long.”
There are gasps throughout the room.
My back is pressed against the wall so hard that my spine might crack. I have a fist pressed against my teeth so I don’t cry out and give us away.
My father might have put all of this in place, but I had no idea.
I hadno idea.
“Can you believe it?” Allisander crows. “Can you believe it? Hewas forcing me to grow it asmedicine, knowing I was actually committing his crimes.”
As soon as I hear his voice, my blood turns to ice.
Because then,right then, I realize: I might not have had any idea about the poison, but Allisander absolutely did. He would’ve had to. Because his father owned the land the Moonflower was planted on. His father would have had to be in on the plot before Allisander was ever named as consul.
His father, who wanted a bigger parcel of land so he wouldn’t have to split hisprofitswith Lissa Marpetta.
It’s no wonder they cleared out Quint’s room. He was right—it’s quite possibly the only detailed proof I might’ve had that any of this is false. That I truly never knew.
I take a long, slow breath so I don’t explode.
Then the worst thing in the world happens.
I start coughing.
I slap a hand over my own mouth a second before Saeth grabs me, his own hand clamping over mine, drawing me farther back into the stairwell. My lungs are burning with the need to cough, and I’m involuntarily fighting his grip.
But then he draws me to a stop, and I’m able to regain some composure. I’m wheezing from the strain of trying not to cough again, but Saeth and Thorin cling to the archway, listening.
