Twenty-Seven
CLOUDS OBSCURED THE sister moons as Charis and Tal followed Holland up the stairs and through the kitchen. Trays of steaming hot tea cakes and loaves of bread were set out on the counters to cool. Ferris and Mason were standing by the back door, their heads together as though having a discussion. Rames was busy whisking a large bowl of sugar icing. He set down the bowl and bowed as they approached.
“My apologies for not immediately recognizing you, Your Majesty.”
“No apology necessary.” Charis smiled at the man. “I appreciate your caution, along with the use of your bakery.”
“Can’t be too careful.” He returned to whisking. “There’s them that have decided showing loyalty to the monsters is the best way to stay alive. Especially when your own loyalty to your kingdom is in doubt. Glad to see you’re still on our side.”
Charis stopped abruptly. “You doubted my loyalty to my people?”
Holland snatched up a kitchen knife. “I regret having to do this, as you make an excellent tea cake, Rames, but no one insults the queen’s integrity in my presence without paying the price in blood.”
Rames dropped his whisk and held his hands up, palms out. “I meant no harm, sir. Just listening to the conversation in my tearoom each day. I’m grateful to know that the whispers about Her Majesty got it wrong.”
Charis shook her head at Holland, who scowled but reluctantly set down the knife. Lanni, the maid who served Charis her meals, had said something about rumors as well. “What exactly are people saying?”
Rames looked from her to Holland and back again before picking up his whisk. “Oh, things like you made a deal with the Rakuuna and brought them to our shore, but then you didn’t pay them, so you had to run away.”
Charis stared at him while Tal muttered a curse under his breath, and Holland once again looked ready to pick up the knife.
“What kind of deal do people think I made?” Years of training kept her voice calm, but it took effort.
Rames tugged at his collar as if it was too tight and didn’t meet her eyes. “Seems like folks think it was to get the queen out of the way, quick-like, so you could have the throne to yourself.”
The room tilted, and Charis slapped a hand on the table to keep her balance as the memory of her mother’s body falling at the hands of the attacking Rakuuna collided with that of her father lying on his bedroom floor, his throat torn to shreds. Bile rose, and she swallowed desperately as she fought to push the memories back into the shadows where they belonged.
How could anyone believe she would kill her own parents—people she’d loved with everything she had—just to gain power that was already within her grasp?
“Charis,” Tal murmured, his hand a spot of warmth against her back as he leaned close.
“Tell me who’s been spreading this rumor so I can cut out their tongues.” Holland sounded furious.
“I don’t know.” Rames shrugged as he set the bowl of light green frosting beside a tray of tea cakes. “I mean, I can give a few names, but I don’t know which of them actually believed it and which were just gossiping.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Charis forced the words out, though her lips felt numb, and her mouth seemed to have forgotten how to work properly.
“Of course it matters!” Holland glared at her and then turned the full force of his anger on Tal. “Tell her it matters. Explain it.”
“I don’t need anyone explaining anything to me.” Charis straightened, though it still felt as though she’d been punched in the stomach. “It doesn’t matter who’s spreading the rumor. It matters who started it.”
“Who benefits?” Tal murmured, a frown digging into his forehead.
“Whoever needs me to look like the villain.” Charis met his gaze. “If I’m the cause of Calera’s woes, no one will want me for their queen.”
“But how does that benefit either the Rakuuna or my father?” Tal asked.
“If you’re removed as queen, that leaves me as next in line, and I am not interested in wearing a crown.” Holland smacked his hand beside a row of green frosted tea cakes, earning him a glare from Rames.
“Well, not to put too fine a point on it, but the rumors include Lord and Lady Farragin as well, though of course your parents are still alive.” Rames moved the tray of completed tea cakes away from Holland. “If you want my honest opinion, I don’t think there’s a single source. I think this is a result of hundreds of conversations from thousands of people who all wanted to understand how the three of you could leave us behind and not come back and fight for your throne.”
Silence fell, broken only by the ticking of a clock above the fireplace, the soft patter of rain against the cobblestones outside the window, and the hushed argument happening between Ferris and Mason.
“That’s reasonable,” Charis said slowly. “Rames, can you start a new rumor for me?”
Rames paused in the act of smoothing a coat of pale green frosting across the etched surface of the tea cake. “I can try.”
“Tell people that I’ve returned, and that I’m committed to fighting for my people. In fact, tell them I spent my time away gathering alliances to help us do just that.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Holland reached for one of the frosted tea cakes, and Rames snatched the tray into the air and slid it onto a nearby shelf. “What if that gets back to the Rakuuna, and they try to question you about it? Or worse, what if they send word to Alaric that you’re gathering support against him?”
“No, actually, this could work.” Tal began pacing. “Father never does anything that won’t benefit him politically. If he believes future alliances with other kingdoms would be at risk if something happens to Charis, he might reconsider her value to him.”
“Or he might order the Rakuuna just to kill her now, and I really think that ought to be a higher priority for you,” Holland said.
“Nothing is a higher priority for me than Charis.” Tal stopped in his tracks and glared at Holland.
“Then maybe we shouldn’t encourage her to goad her enemies with a rumor about alliances,” Holland shot back.
“Or maybe we should trust that she knows what she’s doing.” Tal’s voice rose.
Charis moved away from them and said quietly to Rames, “Do as I asked, please.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Was it risky potentially letting the Rakuuna know she had allies willing to help her? Yes. But if she didn’t turn the tide of public opinion back in her favor, she’d risk driving out her enemies only to be faced with civil war.
She was banking on the Rakuuna feeling so secure in their physical prowess that they’d never suspect she had a weapon capable of hurting them until it was too late.
Ferris and Mason were still in a heated discussion as Charis began moving toward the door, leaving Holland and Tal arguing beside the trestle table.
She didn’t have the patience or the energy to face the long, dangerous journey back to the palace, think through the strategies she needed to employ to win back her people’s favor without jeopardizing the safety of her allies at sea, and silence two separate arguments. Her jaw clenched as she neared the door, where Ferris and Mason were staring intently out from behind the curtained window while whispering back and forth.
She wasn’t the only one scared to make her way back to the palace. Her future wasn’t the only one balanced on a sword’s edge. Arguments were bound to happen, and getting upset with her allies wouldn’t help anyone.
Drawing in a deep breath, she reached for something compassionate to say as she neared the door.
“I don’t have orders from your father,” Mason’s fierce whisper reached Charis’s ear, and she froze.
“Orders from me are the same as orders from Father, and you’d do well to remember your place, Bartho.” Ferris strained to look out the window. “This rain is going to make the journey that much slower. We can’t afford a delay.”
He turned from the window, but Charis was already back beside Rames, her skin prickling, her limbs screaming at her to run.
He’d said Bartho. Not Mason.
Bartho.
Why hide Mason’s identity? And why did that name strike a chord of dread deep within her?
She pretended to study a frosted teacake as her thoughts raced. Bartho... She’d heard that name before the invasion, but what was the connection? Rullenvor? That didn’t feel right. Was he involved in the war with Montevallo? No, she remembered every emissary Mother had ever received. Had he been on Lady Channing’s staff? Charis shook her head, though the chill on her skin refused to leave.
Could he be Montevallian? She froze as a memory surfaced. She was standing in a dungeon cell, her dagger to an assassin’s throat, promising to destroy the woman and everyone she’d ever loved unless the assassin gave up the name of the person who’d hired her to kill Charis.
The name she gave was Bartho.
They’d never found a trace of him, but maybe that was because he’d been sheltered all along by a respected member of Mother’s royal council. By a member of her family.
Charis’s thoughts tumbled wildly, snatching at details, connections, and puzzle pieces, slotting them into place. She couldn’t let Ferris see that she’d overheard him. If his family was connected to the man who’d orchestrated assassination attempts against Charis, then everything Ferris had told her from the moment she’d set foot in Calera was a lie.
And if everything she thought she knew about Alaric, the Rakuuna, and her situation in Calera was a lie, then she, her crew, and the people using the bakery as a safe house were in danger the instant the Everlys realized their deception had been exposed.
“We need to leave now, Your Majesty,” Ferris called. “It’s a long walk back.”
She nodded, thankful that Holland was still delivering a parting shot in his argument with Tal. Using the volume of Holland’s voice as cover, she leaned close to Rames and said quietly, “Do not react to anything I’m about to say. I’m going to take a teacake as if that’s my only reason for being close to you—but the instant we leave this building, get everyone out. We’ve been betrayed.”
She grabbed a teacake and turned away. Rames picked up his bowl of frosting and stirred briskly. Tal took one look at her face and turned abruptly from Holland. She gave Tal a look that clearly said to keep quiet and smoothed her expression before saying, “Holland, that’s enough. We have to get back to the palace. Look, I convinced Rames to give you a teacake.”
Holland snatched the pastry from her hand, took a bite, and headed to the door, Charis and Tal on his heels.
Moments later, the group was moving swiftly and silently through the rain-drenched night. Ferris and Bartho took the lead, Tal and Charis followed several paces behind them, and Holland brought up the rear. Tendrils of fog rose from the sea, belly-crawled over the shore, and wound their way sinuously through the city streets. It was impossible to see more than a carriage length ahead, much less watch out for the Rakuuna patrol.
Charis dearly hoped the lack of visibility affected the creatures the same way it affected her, but she wasn’t going to bet her life on it. Instead, she and the others clung to the sides of buildings and moved through swirls of fog when they had to cross a road.
The entire time, Charis had one ear straining for any hint of pursuit, and the rest of her mind was fully engaged on the problem at hand.
Ferris knew Nalani was in Solvang. Was it possible Lady Ollen could get a palloren to Solvang before the Everlys sent a Rakuuna to hunt Nalani down? Charis knew firsthand just how fast the Rakuuna ships cut through the water.
Ferris also now knew the location of Lady Ollen and Lord Thorsby, leaders of the rebellion. Charis prayed Rames got everyone far away from the bakery before Ferris returned to the palace and reported it to Queen Bai’elsha.
Fortunately, Charis hadn’t told Ferris about the moriarthy dust or the allies committing ships to her cause. She still had the ability to wage war against her enemies, but she was just now realizing she hadn’t truly realized who was on the other side of the dangerous chess match she’d been playing.
Tal grabbed her arm and anchored her to his side, pressing them both against the gnarled bark of a sugar maple tree. She froze. From somewhere to the east, the rattling of the Rakuuna’s voices whispered through the air. She had no idea where Ferris and Bartho were and could only hope Holland was hiding nearby.
It was impossible to judge how close the Rakuuna were. The gentle patter of the rain and the heavy, muffled quiet of the fog made the entire world feel shrouded in wool, obscuring all sound.
Her damp sweater snagged on the tree’s trunk as she silently adjusted her stance, ready to fight. Not that she’d do much damage.
For long moments, they stayed still, huddled against the tree at the very edge of the palace grounds. And then, from the road behind them, the slap of webbed feet on cobblestones. The rattle of quiet words exchanged. The whisper of danger sent a chill over Charis as she prayed desperately for the fog to protect their meager hiding place.
Then the sound of the patrol faded, swallowed by the fog. The rain was nothing but mist now, gently encasing Charis and Tal as they climbed through the orchard, slipped into the overgrown palace garden, and then tiptoed across the courtyard until they reached the thesserin tree outside the balcony.
“I need you to come to my room,” she whispered as she grasped the damp trunk with cold fingers. “Alone.”
He paused for a beat and then said, “Of course.”
Her cheeks grew warm. “And not because... Not for anything... We need to talk.”
“Yes, we do.” He created a cradle with his hands and waited. She placed her foot into the cradle and leaped for the branches as he hoisted her up. The instant she started climbing, he shimmied up the trunk behind her.
The night sky was slowly fading into a murky violet as she reached the balcony. Dawn was less than an hour away. She hoped the message she’d ordered sent to Nalani was already safely outside the city’s border, along with those who’d been at the bakery.
Tal climbed onto the balcony and together they crept in through the door, closing it quietly behind them just as the palace patrol rounded the corner and entered the courtyard below.
Holland was already in the room.
“There you are.” He glanced behind them. “Where are Ferris and Mason?”
“They were ahead of us, so they must have arrived first,” Charis said, keeping her voice even, though it took effort.
If—no, when Holland learned that the Everlys were connected to Bartho and that his sister had just been put in even more danger than before, Charis was going to have a hard time stopping him from going after the entire Everly family with his bedpost.
Maybe that was the best strategy. Maybe it wasn’t. Charis needed time to think it through. She needed to look at all the angles. She needed confirmation that she was right before she effectively sentenced the Everlys to death.
She glanced over to find Tal watching her closely, a crease in his brow as he studied her.
“Nice of them to wait here to make sure we all arrived safely,” Holland said, shaking water from his hair.
“It’s Ferris.” Charis moved toward the hallway. “What do you expect?”
Quietly they left the room, hurried down the stairs to the dumbwaiter, and hauled themselves one at a time back up to the southern guest wing. Charis was first inside the dumbwaiter. It was dry.
If Ferris were back inside the palace, he hadn’t used the same path as before.
The guest wing was quiet, the hallway dimly lit by a few flickering sconces along the walls. Ferris stood beside their bedroom door, looking worried.
“Hurry!” he mouthed, pointing at the end of the corridor where the Rakuuna patrol would soon be making their rounds.
Charis looked at the floor as though being careful not to slip in her wet boots as she walked past Ferris. It was that or spit her fury in his face.
“You’re back.” Reuben shot off the couch, his face pale and weary.
“We’re fine,” Tal said softly. “Get some sleep.”
“Shouldn’t we talk about what you learned from Ollen and Thorsby tonight?” Ferris asked.
Charis nodded. “Of course. But the patrol might hear us speaking, and we’re all exhausted. Get some sleep. We’ll speak about it tomorrow.”
She managed to make eye contact with him and smile, though it turned her stomach to do so.
Ferris left, Reuben settled onto the couch and began dozing, and Holland wandered into his room and shut the door. Charis walked to her room, Tal behind her, and turned as he quietly closed the door behind him.
“We have a problem,” she said the instant the door clicked shut.
“What’s wrong?” He moved closer. “Something’s been off with you since we left the bakery.”
“I overheard Ferris call Mason by the name Bartho.” Her voice shook, and she sank slowly onto the chair that rested in front of the vanity.
Tal stared at her in silence for a long moment, his eyes dark, his jaw tight. Finally, in a voice she barely recognized, he said, “Stay right here. I’m going to go beat the truth out of Ferris.”