Twenty-Four
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, Charis, Reuben, Holland, and Tal were back in their suite. Dec and Grim had attempted to stay with Tal, but the Rakuuna refused to allow it. Apparently, both boys had landed blows on the Rakuuna guard who’d subdued Tal, and their punishment was exile to their room.
“You survived,” Holland announced as the door closed behind the guards, leaving the four of them alone. “Now what?”
“Now we keep our heads down until King Alaric arrives and makes the trade,” Reuben said.
Before Charis could respond, someone knocked on the suite’s door. Charis’s stomach pinched.
Had Bai’elsha changed her mind? Or was Charis to be separated from her people the way Tal had been separated from Dec and Grim?
The knock sounded again, and Charis frowned as she met Tal’s eyes. Why would the Rakuuna guards bother knocking? He nodded as if to say he’d been wondering the same thing. Quickly, he and Holland grabbed their makeshift weapons from where they’d been abandoned on the sitting room floor.
“Enter,” Charis said as she rose to her feet, braced for disaster. Reuben instantly pivoted to put his body between hers and the door.
She still half expected one of the Rakuuna to enter, but instead her fourth cousin, Ferris Everly, walked in, his cheek bruised, and his blue eyes anxious.
“Charis!” He rushed toward her, his pale face looking drawn and weary. “Father said you’d returned, but I had to see it for myself.”
Revulsion fought with relief at the sight of him. Relief won. Maybe Ferris had always been a thorn in her side, but his father was a respected member of the royal council, and despite his grasping, greedy nature, Ferris had taken the news of her betrothal treaty in stride, even though it meant his dreams of marrying her and becoming king consort were dashed.
In fact, his ability to quickly pivot to the most practical path forward reminded her a bit of herself. Maybe Ferris couldn’t help his sense of entitlement when it came to holding a position of power in her kingdom. He was a product of his father’s ambitions as much as Charis was a product of her mother’s. It was possible she’d been too hard on him.
“You’re looking...” His eyes wandered down to her bosom. “Underfed.”
Then again, perhaps she’d been exactly as hard on him as he deserved.
“You’ll watch how you speak to your queen, or I’ll be happy to remove your tongue.” Holland hefted his bedpost and glared at Ferris.
“Oh, wonderful, you returned with her.” Sarcasm dripped from Ferris’s words. “I suppose Nalani is going to have a few nasty things to say to me next. I swear by all the seers, if you Farragins had half an idea what those of us trapped here have been through, you’d shut your mouths.”
“I don’t have time for petty arguments today,” Charis said.
Ferris took one look at her face and sketched a quick bow. “Forgive me, Your Highness—”
“Your Majesty.”
He blinked and then said quickly, “Of course, Your Majesty. I apologize. I’m out of practice with court protocols. The Rakuuna queen has her own way of running things.” He stared past Charis for a moment as though looking at something only he could see. A muscle along his jaw tightened.
Maybe he was odious on his best day, but he was right. Charis and her crew had no real idea what those who’d remained in Calera had been through.
Speaking in a gentler voice, she said, “Why are you in the palace, Ferris?”
“Father, Mother, and I live here now.” His voice was bitter. “We’re prisoners in this wing, along with all the Calerans Queen Bai’elsha is using as palace staff.”
“Why would they want you around?” Holland looked baffled.
“Because we’re useful,” Ferris snapped. “You might try it sometime.”
Holland waved the bedpost menacingly. “I volunteer to be of use right now. Your Majesty, permission to remove the pestilence from this room.”
“Permission denied.” Charis faced Ferris, whose cheeks had turned an unbecoming shade of pink. Tal moved around Holland to stand at Charis’s side, his fire poker held like a sword.
Ferris’s eyes widened. “Are you really going to let them treat me like a threat?” His voice rose. “My family came to the palace the morning after the invasion to find Queen Letha, King Edias, and you. Instead, we were greeted by monsters who assumed we were there to fight them for the throne. If Father and I hadn’t managed to convince them we had the connections to act as a go-between for their negotiations with Montevallo, we’d be dead.”
“I’m grateful you’re still alive,” Charis said calmly.
“But why did you come back?” Ferris sounded agitated. “You should’ve just kept running as far and as fast as you could.”
Charis frowned. “We didn’t return of our own accord. The Rakuuna hunted us down and captured us.”
His shoulders slumped. “I was afraid of that.”
“And I wasn’t running, Ferris. I was getting help for our kingdom.”
His eyes widened. “You have help for us?”
Perhaps the incredulity in his voice could be attributed to the horrors he’d witnessed in her absence. Or perhaps he’d never had enough faith in her from the start.
“I do.” She just had to get a message to the rebellion so Nalani and the retired admiral who’d agreed to help Calera could coordinate with the admirals of Solvang, Thallis, and Verace in planning an attack on the Rakuuna.
“Father is going to want to hear all the details.” Ferris glanced over his shoulder as the door opened to admit the redheaded maid from the night before carrying a tray with bowls of pumpkin porridge and a plate of spiced brandyberry muffins. “He’s busy getting Mother’s medicine, but he’ll return soon. You can’t imagine the lengths we have to go to now just to get medical supplies that used to be readily available.”
“The Rakuuna allow your father to leave the palace?” Tal asked.
Ferris barely spared him a glance. “Don’t be daft. We have a contact who knows how to get in and out of the palace without getting caught. Father is meeting him in the servants’ quarters. Father and I would be missed if Queen Bai’elsha decides she needs us for something, but she doesn’t even know he exists.”
The maid carried the food past Charis, and her stomach pitched uneasily at the smell.
Holland snatched a muffin from the tray, and Ferris said something derogatory, prompting another argument.
Leaning close, Tal said softly, “Why did the Rakuuna need to negotiate anything with Father? Vahn already offered to pay whatever jewels the Rakuuna required. Father wanted port access and dignity for our people, which you gave him through the betrothal treaty. He should have willingly paid whatever price was needed to get the Rakuuna to leave.”
“If he’d been willing to pay, then why would the Rakuuna have felt they needed you as a prisoner in the first place?” Charis whispered back.
“I don’t know,” Tal admitted as Holland offered to stuff Ferris’s mouth full of porridge just to shut him up while Ferris swore that his father was going to hear about this.
“Maybe they asked for more than he has?” Charis caught the maid’s eye and motioned her close while the boys continued to bicker over their breakfast.
“We’ve been without port access for nearly two decades, which means we’ve been without robust trade with other kingdoms.” Tal caught the muffin Holland tossed his way. “Trust me, Father has more stockpiles of jewels mined from our mountains than he knows what to do with.”
“What’s your name?” Charis asked the maid as she curtsied. Tal handed Reuben the muffin and raised his hand to catch the next one Holland tossed.
“Lannibelle, Your Majesty, but most just call me Lanni.” She shot a look over her shoulder at the door leading to the corridor beyond. “I can’t stay. The guards expect me to keep delivering trays.”
“Then I’ll make this quick.” Charis met the woman’s eyes. “Where do your loyalties lie?”
A direct question, coming at an unexpected moment, always revealed the truth. Those with nothing to hide answered freely. Those with secrets fumbled or paused, even for an instant, as they chose their words with care.
“With you, Your Majesty.” Lanni’s eyes sparked with fervor, and she curtsied again. “As do those of many Calerans.”
“Many?”
The maid’s cheeks grew flushed, and her voice lowered until Charis had to lean forward to hear her. “There are... rumors that we would be better off without you because the Willowthorns caused the invasion.”
“Where do those rumors come from?”
Lanni shrugged and glanced at the door again. “Your Majesty—”
“One last question, Lanni.” Charis lowered her voice. If the Everlys had a contact who could sneak into and out of the palace, then there was hope that Tal or Holland could too. They could deliver the message to the rebellion and put Charis’s plan in motion, but only if they knew where to go. Praying Lanni could help, Charis said, “If I needed to find Lord Thorsby, where would I go?”
Lanni’s eyes widened. Quickly she whispered, “He is rumored to be with Lady Ollen, Your Majesty.”
“At her house?”
Lanni frowned. “I think her house was destroyed. All I know is that she enjoys a good afternoon tea.”
Tal choked on his bite of muffin. “How is that helpful?”
Lanni shrugged again, looking miserable. “That’s what Cook said to the milkman when he delivered supplies the other morning. I thought maybe it meant something because it was a strange thing to say, but I could be wrong. Your Majesty, please, I must go, or I’ll be punished.”
“Thank you, Lanni.” Charis turned to Tal as the woman hastily left the room, closing the door behind her.
Tal shook his head. “We’ll need to ask other people about Lord Thorsby. Maybe Ferris can—”
“I know where Lady Ollen is.” Charis gripped Tal’s arm. “Her favorite tea shop is the two-story bakery on the northwest side of the merchant district. I can’t remember the name of it, but there’s an alchemist shop across the street and a bookbinder next door.”
Tal gave her his crooked smile. “I do love your brain.”
“And I love yours.” The words left her lips before she’d truly realized what she meant to say. His eyes darkened, and he leaned close enough that she was suddenly, exquisitely aware of the rise and fall of his chest and the way his collarbone caught the early morning light.
“So where is Nalani? I wanted to—what is happening here?” Ferris demanded, staring at Tal and Charis, who were standing far too close to one another.
“Nothing that concerns you,” Tal said at the same time that Charis said, “Strategy.”
Ferris stilled, his eyes narrowing. “Why is Charis blushing?”
“It’s nauseating, but you get used to it.” Holland grabbed the last muffin and moved toward Charis.
She pivoted toward Holland, reaching out for the muffin as an excuse to put a little bit of distance between herself and Tal.
“Eat that.” Holland shoved the food into her hand.
“Fine.” Charis held the muffin without taking a bite.
Ferris craned his neck to look at the bedrooms. “Where is Nalani? We need her so we can start planning how to manage things. I know what Queen Bai’elsha is really up to.”
Charis glanced at Tal, Holland, and Reuben. Each of them looked as wary as she felt. “Nalani isn’t with us. And how do you know what the queen is planning?”
“What do you mean Nalani isn’t with us?” Ferris set down the remains of his muffin. “Where is she?”
“She’s still in Solvang.” Holland crossed his arms over his chest. “She’s safe. Now, I think you’d better explain yourself.”
“Safe.” Ferris took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, then nodded. “Good. That’s good. It buys us more time.”
“How does that buy us time?” Charis asked.
Ferris met her gaze. “Because the terms of King Alaric’s agreement with Queen Bai’elsha state that all four heirs to the Caleran throne must be present before he will deliver the jewels. He’s camped just far enough inland that the Rakuuna can’t reach him. They have to spend time in the sea each day, or they grow very weak.”
“All four heirs—that doesn’t make sense.” Tal turned to Charis. “Father only needs one heir to fulfill the betrothal treaty. Why would he care about anyone but you?”
“Father?”Ferris’s voice was sharp. “Who exactly are you?”
“He’s Prince Percival Talin Penbyrn, King Alaric’s younger son.” Charis waved that announcement aside as Ferris left the food tray and moved toward them. They had bigger problems than Tal’s identity. “Would your father be trying to force the Rakuuna to keep the line of succession safe?”
“Again, how does that benefit him—hey!” Tal stumbled back as Ferris planted his hands on Tal’s shoulders and shoved.
“You treacherous, lying dog.” Ferris spat the words. “The only reason I can think of that your father wants the four of us gathered together is to go through with the wedding and then kill us all, leaving your brother as the sole ruler of Calera. And he has his monstrous allies here to help him make sure it happens. No doubt you were in on it the entire time. You’re nothing but a filthy traitor, and I should kill you where you stand.”
Holland dropped the bedpost, curled his hand into a fist, and plowed it straight into Ferris’s face.
Ferris hit the floor and lay gasping, blood leaking from his nose. “How dare you—”
“Tal is much more than a filthy traitor, and nobody gets to kill him except for me.” Holland glared down at Ferris.
“You hit me to stake a claim on the honor of killing him?” Ferris sounded incredulous.
“No, I hit you because nobody talks about my friends like that.”
Tal looked at Holland as though he’d just been given something priceless.
Ferris wiped blood from his nose and sat up. “You just said you wanted to kill him.”
“No, I said I get to kill him. Keep up.”
From outside the suite’s door, the unmistakable rattle of the Rakuuna talking to each other drifted in. Holland leaned down and snatched both the bedpost and Ferris off the floor.
“I can stand on my own.” Ferris glared at Holland.
“Enough,” Charis said as Reuben moved to position himself between her body and the door. “Ferris is right. The only explanation that makes sense is that Alaric plans some kind of treachery. We’ll deal with your feelings about that later, Tal. Right now, we need to move fast to get a message to Lord Thorsby and Lady Ollen so we can warn Nalani to hide before the Rakuuna queen realizes she’s still in Solvang.”
Ferris took a big step back, putting a healthy distance between himself and Holland. “What message? I can give it to our contact.”
Under no circumstances was Charis trusting something this delicate, this important, to a person she’d never met. “It’s a message that must be delivered in person.”
Ferris sighed. “Well then, you’re out of luck, because no one seems to know where Lady Ollen and Lord Thorsby are staying.”
Trust Ferris and his parents to not even consider checking in with the servants as a source of information.
“I know where they’re staying,” Charis said. “I just need you to show us how your contact gets out of the palace.”