A bit of light flares behind us, and I realize Quint is lighting the lanterns.
And in that light, I notice there are tears on Annabeth’s cheeks.
“Please,” I say. “You came here to talk to me. I’ll listen.”
She takes a slow breath, and her voice trembles. “I know the men are ready to charge the Royal Sector like they did before. But they wouldn’t have been able to do it if we hadn’t hit critical parts of the city. It was the women who figured out where to lay the explosives.”
I’m glad I have a lifetime of experience at keeping any hint of emotion off my face, including every gruesome execution Corrick forced me to witness, so I don’t even blink.
“How?” I say.
“My cousin is a day maid in the palace,” she says quietly. “She snuck us some uniforms. Piece by piece. We made more. We’ve been able to slip inside.”
I keep my breathing very slow and even, but my heart feels likea galloping horse. The people in the Wilds speak openly about revolution, but this is the first time someone has directly admitted their own specific role in what happened during the attack on the sector.
“Who is your cousin?” I say.
She says nothing. It’s clear she still doesn’t trust me. I’m shocked she offered this much. I know they don’t have any explosives left. “The Benefactors” have stopped providing money and medicine, and I ordered that any shipments from Trader’s Landing be thoroughly searched following the attacks. They’re not getting any more.
“You had to be working with the guards,” I say. “They know the maids. A stranger wouldn’t have been able to sneak in, even with a uniform.”
Though Tessa snuck in, I remember.
“No.” Annabeth hesitates. “Though—”
A shadowed figure steps out of the trees, and her head snaps up in alarm. A boot scrapes on the porch behind me, and I realize Thorin has spotted the figure, too. I’m frozen in place, remembering the crowd who showed up with axes, but then enough light reveals Saeth. A bit of the tightness in my chest loosens. “It’s all right,” I say. “My other guard is just returning from patrol.”
But Annabeth has been spooked, and she’s already off the step and into the shadows. “I need to return before my husband realizes I’m gone.”
“Please,” I say. “At least tell me—”
But she’s slipped into the trees.
“I can go after her,” Thorin says quietly.
“No,” I say. She barely trusted me enough to reveal this much. I’ll wait and see if she comes back.
Saeth has drawn closer, and now I can see stains on his tunic, and a dark streak across one side of his face.
I’m on my feet in an instant. “Are you hurt?” I demand.
“No, Your Majesty.” He grimaces. “Well. Not badly. The night patrol started searching homes a few miles south of here. I picked a fight to give them a different quarry. Then I had to wait for them to stop chasingme.”
A few miles south.That’s close. Possibly too close.
At my back, Quint says, “Were they searching for the king?”
“No, they were looking for smugglers.” Saeth has moved close enough to the light that I can see bruising along his jaw now, and blood on his lip. He’s not very old, probably not much more than thirty, but his eyes are shadowed and tired, and sweat threads his hair. “I led them into Steel City and through the merchants’ quarter, then lost them somewhere after we crossed into Artis.”
That’s a lot of ground to cover, and my guards haven’t been going out on horseback. We’re hamstrung in so many ways. “On foot?” I say.
Saeth nods.
“Sit,” I say, gesturing to the step. I glance behind me. “Quint, fetch him some—”
But when I look, Quint already has a cup of water, along with a damp rag. Saeth drops onto the step, his movement heavy with exhaustion, and he takes both. He runs the rag across the back of his neck, then drains the water without taking a breath.
I want to give him time to recover, but if the night patrol is searching for me, we don’t have time. I ease onto the step beside him.
