“Take them off,” Jake whispers. “Do it now, before anyone orders it. Do it before it looks like you have a problem with it.”
Idohave a problem with it.
All eyes are on me again, so I tug at the steel rings, pulling them free of my fingers. I’ve worn them for so long that they scrape past my knuckles. The whole time, I’m waiting for the king or queen to tell me to stop, to speak in my defense, to tell the court that Alek’s accusations are baseless lies.
But they don’t.
This is worse than humiliating. I’d almost rather the guards cut my fingers off and take them by force. My jaw is so tight I don’t think I’ll be able to speak, but I step onto the dais and bow to them both, then hold out a hand with the rings.
“I will answer any questions you have,” I force out. I don’t know what else to say.
I would never betray you.
That’s what I want to say. But I shouldn’t have to. They should know it.
Grey takes the rings from my palm. “Return to your quarters. We will send for you.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
I bow again, then stride out of the room.
I expect someone to follow, but no one does.
It’s bizarre to think that last night, I was sitting sentry so the king and queen could get a night of sleep without worrying for the princess, and now I’m sitting alone in my room, wondering if I’m going to lose my position at court.
I don’t know what Jax is doing. I don’t know what Alek is doing.
I do know I’m not working with the Truthbringers.
But I remember how Lady Delmetia Calo said I should relinquish any access to magic. The way the court erupted in shouting. Maybe Alek has sowed enough doubt in me, in magic, in the king, that truth won’t matter. Just perception.
I flop back on my bed, staring at the ceiling. I’m not a prisoner, but I feel like one. I wonder how long I’ll be forced to wait.
Salam helpfully pads across my bed, lies down on my chest, and begins to purr.
I sigh and absently go to twist the rings around my fingers, but they’re not there. My hands feel weird without them. Mythoughtsfeel weird without them. It’s not a feeling of vulnerability, not entirely, but … maybe a little.
My door clicks softly, and I startle. Salam scrabbles off the bed to dash out of sight.
Little Sinna slips through the gap, letting the door fall closed behind her.
I sit up straight. “Sinna!”
She puts a finger to her lips. “Shh. I’m hiding.”
The last thing I need right now is the princess sneaking away from her governess and hidingin my chambers. I stand and put out a hand. “You need to go back. Come. I’ll take you.”
“No!” she whispers, then dashes to the opposite side of the room, climbing into the window seat. “I need to look.”
“Look for what?” I stride across the floor. “If you go missing again, your new governess will be dismissed—”
“I can’t see the woods like you can, Tycho.” She presses her tiny hands against the glass. “He said I have to be patient, but he would come back.”
My heart seems to stop beating for a bare second, then kicks hard against my ribs. “Who?” I demand. “Who said he would come back?”
“Shh,” she whispers. “He said Da would not like it.”
I’m staring at her. “Sinna. Who?”
