She considers that for a long moment. “Do I have reason to be worried?”
I hear what she’s asking— and I appreciate that she’s given me a way to answer without implicating myself.
“Yes,” I say grimly. “I believe you do.”
Her breath catches, and she looks up at me. “Do you know who?” she whispers.
“No,” I say.
Her expression turns sharp. “Alek.”
“I have no real names,” I say, which is the truth. “Only suspicions.”
The silence between us is suddenly very heavy. Her voice quiets. “What proof do you have?”
I think of those letters, all written in code, signed with names that lead nowhere. We were all so very careful . . . but now it leaves me with nothing tangible to give the queen. “Nothing at all.”
She lets a breath out through her teeth. “You must give me something.”
I consider that for a while, weighing everything that’s at risk.
“The king left to protect you,” I finally say. “It is good that he is gone— but I’m worried that his sudden absence has left you equally vulnerable.” I hesitate. “The scravers may have left Syhl Shallow,” I say quietly, “but the Truthbringers are still here.”
“You’re certain?”
“Yes,” I say, and I keep my voice very soft. “And for now, they know you’re alone.”
She turns to face me, and a flicker of strength breaks through the sorrow, reminding me that sheisthe queen, and there’s a reason she was able to take the throne from her vicious sister after spending all those years hiding in the corners with her books.
“Then I will send word to Ironrose Castle,” the queen says, and there’s a note in her voice I can’t quite parse out. “I will send word to the king. He must know the risk remains.”
My heart kicks. I wonder how much I’m hearing is hope that he’ll return— and how much is fear that he won’t. I wonder how the king will react to such a message— and how the Truthbringers will react if he attempts to come back.
But I nod, because I genuinely don’t know which outcome would be worse— for her, and for Syhl Shallow. If I’ve learned anything in the last few years, there’s a difference between whatshewants and what her people want. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“In the meantime,” she says, “you and Callyn must resume your visits among the Royal Houses.”
I have to jolt myself to start walking, but my heart is pounding. Inside, I’m spinning. Part of me is rejoicing. Another part— the shameful part— wants to curl up and hide.
Callyn.
I glance at the queen and tug at my jacket. I really need to get it together. We’re passing another set of guards, so I emphasize my words. “It will be a true delight to journey with Callyn again. And it is always a joy to visit the Royal Houses. I’ll send word to arrange meetings within the week.” I drop my voice. “What will wereallybe doing?”
The queen looks at the window. “I can’t trust anyone here, Alek. You may be loyal to me, but I know your feelings about my husband. I know you playedsomerole in everything that transpired here.”
I inhale sharply, but she cuts me off.
“Do not lie right to my face, or you will discovermycynical judgment.”
Her voice is so even, so pragmatic, but there’s a warning in her tone. She might be the gentle sister, but even she has a limit.
Maybe Queen Lia Mara is less broken than I thought.
I close my mouth. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“And whoever plots against me clearly still trustsyouif you know I’m in danger. But you have no names. You have no evidence.”
I hesitate, then nod.
