“Any chance the general was behind it?” I ask.
General Vikal is as ruthless as they come. In some ways, women have to be in order to be respected, whether here or in Yusan. Especially Yusan. Mercy is seen as weakness when it’s doled out by a feminine hand.
Fallador shakes his head. “Doubtful. The rumor is the general shares Quilimar’s bed. And perhaps helped her dispose of the former king. However, the attempt was carried out by Vikal’s second in command.”
“Perhaps Vikal wants the throne for herself,” I say.
“It’s possible,” he admits, stroking his dimpled chin. “But after the assassination attempt, the general publicly chopped up her lieutenant, starting with the toes. It ended with her throwing his head into the sea. Hardly speaks of a coconspirator.”
Stars, the Dasseos Continent loves a brutal murder. Piteua is a horrific way to die and the Khitanese equivalent of lingchi. It means “death from the feet up,” and it’s exactly what Fallador described. You’re alive to feel most of your body being hacked away. It’s saved for the worst offenses—attempted regicide being one, of course.
“I’ll probe my sources for a way in for you,” he says.
“Thank you, my friend.”
I rest my cup on the table, hiding how disheartened I am. I was hoping for an easy and fast way to Quilimar’s ear. But nothing is going to be quick or simple now. Not after a conveniently timed assassination attempt.
I stand, and Fallador does as well. He shakes hands with me. His palm is warm, his hand strong. We lock eyes, and there’s a spark, a distinct energy between us. But I look away. I always do, because some doors can’t be closed once they’re opened.
“Before I forget, this came for you this morning.” He reaches into his satchel and pulls out a sealed envelope. It’s still coated with intact clay and stamped with the seal of Qali Palace.
I examine the envelope.
“You can imagine my surprise at receiving eagle post meant for you,” he says with a soft smile.
I arch an eyebrow. He already knew I was coming, and he didn’t bring it up until now. Of course. Fallador would never show his hand early.
“I didn’t think Joon would miss me enough to write,” I say.
I smile and open the letter, using a hidden dagger in my sleeve. I’m careful to control my breathing, giving nothing away, as I read the simple message. It’s coded, but it translates to:
Gone
Just one word sent by eagle post to reach me quickly. No signature. But I know Zahara’s handwriting and her code. She was my second-in-command and now must be the acting royal spymaster. However, she is telling me that Joon is no longer in the palace and she is unsure of his whereabouts.
But she knew where I would be and whom I would contact. Also, just as surprisingly, she is still loyal to me.
Unless it’s all a ruse.
I crumple the note in my fist as though the message is of no real importance. What is Joon up to? Is he actually out of the palace, or is that simply what he wants me to believe? He would need something compelling to put his life at risk outside of Qali. What could that be?
“Another friend in the palace?” Fallador asks, raising a thick eyebrow. He, of course, knows about Euyn. It’s hardly a secret.
“Something like that.”
I toss the letter and envelope into the fireplace and watch them burn. The papers disappear as I grip the mantel. Why would Joon leave? And why would Zahara say either way? She came to me through him. She is loyal to him. At least on the surface—anyone, including a royal spymaster, can have other allegiances.
Zahara told me “safety in death” before the Millennial Celebration. At the time, I thought it meant to kill the traitors rather than bring them in alive. But if she knew the plan all along, perhaps she was telling me to take my poison pill before I could be used by the king.
Why, though? Who can tell me more?
“Adoros,” Fallador says.
I shift my gaze from the fire to his face. He’d been speaking, and I missed it until he said my name. My real name. I haven’t been called Adoros since I was a child. But we knew each other as little boys. We used to run through the charm fields together, a lifetime ago.
I meet his eyes.
“The empire will never understand us, no matter how much you love him.” He places his hand on my shoulder and gives me a meaningful look before smiling.
