His words from earlier come back to me:“The girl had nothing to do with this.”
He tried to help me straight after it happened. I somehow doubt that he would have much sway. Then again, he might still have allies within the court. Why set me free now? Why not wait for Corvius to finish with me?
I’m not sure I believe in luck. If I did, mine is now well and truly used up.
“I have a message for you,” the guard says.
“What message?” I frown. “Who sent it?”
“All I am permitted to tell you is that you need to leave. You are not safe here. As soon as you are freed, you are to collect your things and leave this court.”
“Why?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know, miss.”
I try to ask more, but he just shakes his head. He isn’t going to give me anything.
He leads me to the castle gates and lets me go.
I’m free.
While poor King Sebastian is rotting in that cell. I give the tiniest of head shakes. As much as I feel for him, there is nothing I can do for him.
Not a darned thing.
I need to keep my head down. I pray that the troupe is planning to leave in the morning. If not, I will have a big decision to make.
6
Isla
Someone calls my name, making me stir from a deep sleep.
“Isla!” he calls again, waking me up fully this time.
It’s Master Roland.
I groan, rolling over on my mattress. Every muscle in my body aches. My head feels like it’s been stuffed with wool. When I finally returned last night, I stumbled into my tent and collapsed onto the mattress without even removing my costume. I didn’t so much as pull a blanket over myself.
I force my eyes open. Kakara’s cat, but it’s bright out already. How long did I sleep?
My heart lifts. I’m sure the tent master is here to inform me that I need to pack up. After the events of last night, I’m sure we’re leaving. I, for one, can’t wait to get away from this cursed court before—
“Come on, girl! We don’t have all day!”
I sit up slowly. My throat is dry. My eyes are still scratchy.
“Coming!” I call out, my voice hoarse.
I push myself to my feet and, after taking a deep breath, open the tent flap, pulling it aside. Master Roland is standing outside, his broad face flushed.
“There you are.” He beams at me. “Good to see you up and about. I’m glad that my pleas to have you released did not fall on deaf ears.”
I very much doubt he had anything to do with it, but I don’t tell him that.
I step out into the sunlight, squinting against the brightness. The camp is alive with activity. People moving between tents, hammering stakes, carrying supplies, or practicing like we often do.
They’re not packing up.
