“Forgive me,” I say, as Ham takes a drink. “I didn’t mean to listen in on your conversation, but I was walking past when I heard you two talking.”
Ham nods as he hands me the flask.
I lean back against the retaining wall, putting the sole of one boot up against it. I need to act as if this discussion is casual, fueled only by curiosity. “Did I hear you mention tricks? A show?”
Ham’s eyes fill with alarm. “We can’t tell you nothin’. If we do, we’ll be executed.”
I hand Ham the flask. “Anything said in this alcove, stays in this alcove.” Above my lips, I mimic turning a key.
Ham chuckles and hands the flask to Ovren, who takes another long drink. “Let’s just say the klericks at this place are right turds,” Ovren says. “They’ve got the masses fooled.”
Ham looks around as if someone else might have suddenly appeared in this small hole the three of us are practically filling, but Ovren takes another long swig of wine, then leans toward me.
“Can you keep a secret?” Ovren’s words come out slightly slurred. The wine is doing its job, along with whatever they consumed before I arrived.
I nod.
“The klericks arefakingit.”
I widen my eyes. “Faking what?”
“All of it. When Othrix appears, it’s all fake.”
“Not all of it,” Ham mutters.
“Really?” I focus on Ovren. He’s confirmed what the dragons already believe. “And you gents are in on the secret?” I try to look impressed.
“Yes.” Ovren’s chest puffs. “We’re amongst the most trusted workers at the temple. Highest level of security. We work on the altar.” He says this with massive pride. “
“Can you show me?” I ask. “I’d love to see.”
“Can’t do that.” Ham takes another swig of wine. “Not if we wants to keep our heads attached to our bodies.” He grins wryly as if he just made the most clever joke.
I force a chuckle. “So, what’s going to happen tomorrow?” I ask.
“We don’t get all the details ahead of time,” Ovren says. “We just follow orders. Pull ropes, release smoke, tilt the reflective glass whenever we’re told.”
“There’s to be a royal marriage tomorrow,” Ham adds, clearly wanting to be part of the conversation.
“A marriage?” I ask, and my belly flips. It’s meant to bemythrixing marriage.
“Yeah.” Ovren frowns, as if he’s angry that Ham gave me this information—or maybe that Ham offered it first. “That’s what some say.”
I push my heel harder against the wall to keep my leg, my entire body, from vibrating. Father said I’d be married on the Feast of Othrix. Have I made a huge mistake coming here?
“Or it could just be one of them ceremonies to make new Wives of Othrix,” Ham says.
My chest tightens. This thought is even worse. It least at my wedding, I can say no.
Ovren turns toward Ham. “Hard to believe they found more ladies to ruin.”
My heart is beating so loudly I’m shocked they don’t hear it.
“Just afore we came out here,” Ham says conspiratorially. “I overheard the klericks talking.” He grins lasciviously. “Turns out, a princess showed up here. She’s been hiding, but they nabbed her.”
“Been a while since they’ve done a princess,” Ovren says. “Tomorrow should be a good show.” He winks. “Ham and I gets a great view from the wings.”
“What kind of view?” Fear traces through me, but the more I know, the more chance I’ll have to save Rosomon.
