Any other time I’ve been here, I’ve had heralds and guards and advisers, and my visit has entirely been planned. I’ve never ridden right up to the gate alone, in the middle of the night. I’m not sure what to say to gain access.
“I need to see the consul,” I say breathlessly, keeping a tight grip on the reins. “It is a matter of great urgency.”
The man doesn’t even get off his chair, and he looks me up and down, then scoffs. “Just who do you thinkyouare? It’s the middle of the night.”
“King Harristan. Open the gate.”
He snorts and lifts the pipe. “All right, Your Majesty. A pleasure to meet you. Why don’t you come back in—”
“Now.” I draw the crossbow off my back and point it at him, then shoot the pipe right out of his hand. “Open. The. Gate.”
He swears and scrambles out of the chair while I load a new bolt. “Now!”
He opens the gate.
I gallop through. He’s shouting behind me, likely calling for reinforcements, but I don’t care. We’re going to need them.
When I make it to the manor, I’m startled to find that lightsglow in most of the windows despite the late hour. I practically throw myself off the horse and sprint up the steps to the main door, then pound heavily with the butt of the crossbow.
I keep banging until a latch is thrown, and the door swings open.
Consul Beeching’s guards face me, their faces lit with surprise.
“I need to see the consul,” I say. “I am King Harristan, and it is a matter of great urgency.”
They stare at me, then look at each other. They’re both better prepared than the man at the gate was, and I watch their hands go to their weapons.
“Please,” I say desperately. “I need—”
“That’s enough,” says a man from behind them. “Let him through.”
The guards step aside. Just behind them stands Jonas Beeching, and his eyes widen when they fall on me. A dozen people are behind him, either seated in chairs or standing along the walls, but I don’t have eyes for any of them. He’s the only one of importance right now.
“Your Majesty,” he gasps. He looks like he’s seen a ghost.
My chest is heaving like the horse’s. “I haven’t poisoned the people, Consul. I know what they’re saying, but I haven’t.” I have to pause to take a breath, and I push sweat-soaked hair back from my eyes. “I had no idea what my father was doing. Maybe—maybe I should have. But any treachery he plotted with Sallister and with Ostriary was kept from me. I swear it.”
He says nothing.
“I’ve been hiding among the people in the Wilds,” I say. “But Sallister is sending the army to kill them. They’re coming to Artis for sanctuary. You have to stop the army at the border.”
He still says nothing. His eyes are fixed on mine, and he stares like he can’t believe I’m daring to ask him for anything at all.
“You must!” I cry. “Jonas, you must! I know they attacked the Royal Sector. I know what they did to you. But they didn’t deserve to die of the fever, and they don’t deserve to die now.”
My breath catches, and I think of all of the people who’ve already lost so much, and who will lose even more, just because they hid me away. Just because theybelievedin me. I might not be able to do anything else, but I can at least return the favor.
“I will surrender to you if you demand it,” I say. “You can hand me to Sallister yourself. Hang me in your courtyard. But please! Please, Jonas. You can stop this. Send your own soldiers to stop them at the border. Allow the rebels sanctuary in Artis.”
He draws a breath, then gestures to a woman near the wall. “Pour His Majesty a glass of water.”
I’m frozen in place, because that doesn’t meananything.
But Jonas immediately looks to his guards. “Send word to the border at once. Let’s remind Sallister that he doesn’t control the king’s armyyet. Wake my medical team. I’m certain there will be injuries.”
The breath eases out of my lungs, and I cough. Once, then twice. I run a hand across the back of my neck and find it damp.
Jonas pulls a chair toward me. “Please, Your Majesty. Sit.”
