You know how to reach me.
Karyl
FatherandMotherare code words for King Grey and Queen Lia Mara, but I haven’t received a message like this in months. For an instant, I wonder if the letter is a forgery. I haven’t heard from Lady Karyl since she proved to be working against me, when she assisted in trapping the queen. Karyl isn’t her real name, of course, but neither isLady Clarinas, the name she went by when she worked in the palace as little Princess Sinna’s governess.
She was supposed to be a spy forme. But someone else won her loyalty, clearly.
Honestly, it’s been so long since I’ve heard from her that I assumed she was killed in Briarlock during the attack on the king and queen.
I read the letter again.
Recent events have led many of us to wonder whether the estate would be better off if Mother were gone, too.
Since I know the code, this letter is about as subtle as a sledgehammer. The king is gone, yet they still want to get rid of the queen.
If they want my help forthat, they won’t be getting it.
After gathering our best silver.
She’s referring to the Iishellasan steel they were collecting before they battled the king in Briarlock. I wonder how much they have left . . . and what she intends to do with it.
I set down the letter and take a sip of my tea.
The next note is also sealed with black-and-green wax, and the parchment is slightly crumpled and dirty, as if it changed hands many times— or perhaps it was handled by someone who was a bit dirty himself. No Truthbringer sigil appears on this one, but then I don’t expect it.
I flick my knife against the seal. This letter is written in Emberish, the handwriting barely more than scrawl— typical for a soldier in the King’s Army on the other side of the border.
King Grey has arrived at Ironrose Castle. His first order was that all remaining soldiers in Syhl Shallow depart at once, to be stationed in Emberfall. He has given no further directives, but it’s known that he was attacked on your soil. Tensions are high, and there are many who question whether we will return to war— and it seems there are many who would like the chance to finish what began four years ago.
I do not have direct access to the king, but I am close to those who do.
I await your orders.
This letter is not signed, but it doesn’t need to be.
I know who my spies are. I pay dearly for their loyalty.
But my eyes linger on the wordwar, and I think of my mother. I think of my sister.
I think of Callyn.
Then I glance at that first letter, the one implying a threat against the queen.
Perhaps a visit to the palace is in order. I need to know what I’m dealing with.
I ignore the thump in my heart that reminds me Callyn is gone.
I ignore the pit in my stomach that worries she’snot.
My attendant reappears, refilling my tea and adding a lump of sugar. I casually fold the letters and set them on the table.
“Will you need anything else, my lord?”
“Have my carriage brought up. I need to visit the Crystal Palace this morning.” As soon as I say the words, I change my mind. Since the scraver attack, riding in a carriage is torturous. Being in a closed vehicle, where I can’t see the sky, suddenly makes me feel too vulnerable. I shudder without meaning to.
“No,” I say sharply. “Have my horse saddled instead. I’ll ride.”
She bobs a curtsy. “Yes, my lord.”
