“Of course.” I smile at her. Aurelia bounces excitedly before turning and grabbing food for me. “Thank you.” I take the plate and pluck a few pumpkin scones from the pile to take with me as usual.
I sit on the edge of the bed, balancing my plate of food on my knee as I rifle through my satchel with one hand. I start with the letter bearing the king’s seal. Opening it, I see a long string of numbers spanning the parchment.
A coded message.
I feel the rush of a thrill. Iloveciphers. I wrote and updated Valentin’s cipher several times to ensure no one could thwart his war plans. Pulling out a piece of parchment, I create a chart with letters and numbers. I begin with a fundamental shift cipher, where each letter and number shifts one position forward in the sequence. Casimir would likely never use such an easily cracked method, but I have to check it first. Then, Itry assigning each number to a letter and shifting it three down, but that doesn’t work either.
I draw four squares on the opposite side of the parchment, filling in the numbers with the usual assigned letters.Nothing.Taking bites of my food between scribbles, I think of more advanced methods. What would Casimir use as a keyword? Or did the letters need to be mapped to symbols and then to numbers second? I tap a finger across the parchment as my eyes scan the numbered code. I have to be missing something… a pattern, a name, a word hidden in plain sight.
Grabbing my copy of the Warlord Chronicles, I flip through my annotations in the margins. I pore over the code for hours, trying every method I’ve learned.
Warlord, wrong. Myragos, wrong. Wrath, wrong. Blade, wrong.
I groan in annoyance, my body growing weary as the day slips into night. With every failed attempt, I crumple up the parchment and throw it into the fire, ensuring there are no remnants for someone else to find. I don’t sleep. I flip through every chapter of Wrath’s book to look for something to use.
Then, for the sake of it, I try my name. That is also wrong.
Princess.
P-r-i-n-c-e-s-s.
I shift the cipher eight letters to the right and then assign each to a corresponding number. Then, I subtract the set of numbers from the ones on the page, leaving me with a smaller string of numbers. Using the new set of numbers, I reassign them to the shift cipher and convert them back into letters, a process that takes me several hours to complete.
The message transforms slowly under my fingers, each new character revealing a portion of something larger. It’s tedious work, but I press on, pulse racing as the jumbled text begins to form words.
“Of course, it’s fucking princess,” I swear under my breath as I read the message.
As requested, the camp will move to Thalvar in two weeks. They will stay until winter’s end and continue through Crossgate to defend the border.
- C.
Although I cracked Casimir’s cipher, I am not sure if it will help me. I can share my findings with Sebastian, but I don’t want to reveal that I know the code. If I ever need to send Casimir a secret message, I can use this code to do so—that may be useful. I toss all my scrawling, along with the letter, into the fire and ensure every last bit is ash. I move onto the next letter, tearing open the wax seal with the lion stamped into the center, and to my surprise, it is a message from Duke Nikolas Sterling of Thalvar.
Send the money from the master of coins directly to Rykaris. Kill the soldiers as soon as they arrive.
- Duke Nikolas Sterling of Thalvar
My eyes widen in shock. Casimir is going to send soldiers off to their death, and what’s worse, Nikolas is going to extort money from him as well. I should be thrilled by the prospect, but I’m not. I have grown close to Taryn, Gilead, Stanik, and heck, even Barnham. If they go to Thalvar, it will be their end.
Then, when Casimir is vulnerable, Nikolas will kill him. Heis ready to strike and claim the power for himself. He must be the leader of this rumored rebellion! A horrible feeling of dread creeps into me at the thought of someone like Nikolas sitting on the throne. He’s arrogant and cruel and would likely be far more monstrous than Casimir.
Finally, I open Sebastian’s letter, expecting to see the message to Cathros. As I read each word, the ground seems to vanish beneath me. My chest tightens, breath catching as I read it again… and again. Two times. Three. Four. I keep hoping the meaning will change, that I somehow misunderstood something. No matter how often I read it, the truth is right there in ink. Everything I thought I knew shatters like a mirror, leaving behind only fragments of deceit.
I will not make the same mistake twice.
Folding the letter up, I formulate my next plan—every word burned in my memory, fueling the fire in my chest. Whatever is left of my benevolence and virtue slowly wither away inside of me, as something far more sinister takes its place. The last of my kindness vanishes, replaced with a vengeance that will make everyone regret the day they ever underestimated me.
I tuck Sebastian’s letter into my sleeve, straighten my posture, and turn toward the door. If he believes I will break, he is wrong. He will feel my fury long before I fall, and I’ll drag him down into the flames with me.
I exit my room and quickly search for a place to hide the letter. It is too risky to keep it in my possession, but I may need it later. I know the contents, the words already committed to memory so I may never forget these transgressions.
As I leave the room where I hid the letter, I hear hushed voices and a slight struggle around the corner. The sound of shuffling feet and a muffled plea makes me press my back against the wall and lean just enough to see.
Duke Nikolas Sterling has Serafina pinned against the wall. A hand clamps around her throat as he forcefully yanks up the hem of her dress. The young girl struggles to breathe, tears streaming down her cheeks as she shakes against his hold.
Against all better judgment, I know I must do something.
“Is there an issue?” I turn the corner and boldly announce myself.
