CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
GIRL MADE OF SHADOWS
The audience is in an uproar. Whatever other announcement the soldier tries to make is lost to horrified shrieks. People leap from chairs and flood the walkway in their scramble for the ballroom doors.
I’m shoved in a dozen directions at once. There’s a heavy thud as the doors slam shut, trapping us here. More people scream. The shoving in the aisle intensifies. The decurio lining the room try to herd people back to their seats, but no one listens.
I force myself through the throngs of terror, headed for the stage.
Unlike everyone else, my racing heart calmed with the decurio’s announcement.
Virdei believes the Republic is under attack because they saw the remnants of the fake battle I staged at the Sulen gatepost.
I hadn’t counted on the beacons going out, but this is merely the pieces of this game aligning themselves. Next I need to stoke the flames of panic and guide Luc to the trap awaiting him.
Manufacture a crisis, incapacitate Luc, force the Honorate in line.
Step one is complete.
By the time I fight my way to the front, my breaths have evened. I haul myself onto the platform and move behind the curtains.
Luc stands with Kaidren and the decurio who delivered the news. “What were you thinking?” Luc is uncharacteristically angry, yelling at the soldier. “Why would you announce something like that to the entire room? Were you trying to cause mass panic?”
“I’m sorry.” The soldier ducks his head. “I thought the people had a right to know.”
“Before the Praeceptor? Why was I not informed first? And why—”
He stops as the entire building rumbles.
“What was that?” Kaidren’s head whips around, as though the source of the disturbance is in this room.
“Petruvia, sir,” the soldier says.
At that, my steps freeze. I’m a few paces behind Luc, too stunned to move.
Luc gawks at the decurio. “What? Where is General Fain? Why is he not the one speaking with me?”
“General Fain is dealing with the invasion. Petruvia is here, sir. Right now. They attacked Widow’s Hall and extinguished the beacons. The General is ensuring the entire building does not fall under siege. As of right now, we are officially at war.”
I can’t breathe. My throat is tight, and there’s no air getting in. I’m the one who faked the attack to the Sulen gatepost—how the hell did Petruvia actually get here?
“If we’re at war, we need to gather the Petruvians we have here at court.” It takes everything in me for my voice to not tremble. “They’re hostages now.”
The soldier glances at me, then rolls his eyes, looking annoyed. “We can’t do that.”
“Why not?” I demand.
“Sir,” he says to Luc, clearly intending to dismiss me. “Perhaps we can speak in private?”
Kaidren’s expression darkens. “Answer her. Now.”
The soldier looks reluctant, but he can’t ignore a direct order from an Honorate. “The Petruvians are missing. We checked their rooms as soon as this began. They and their bags are gone. They must have fled before the coronation.”
It must’ve been those letters. Like the one I found in the Nights’ fireplace. First the Opheran fields, now this. How many other war plans were discussed by mail that we missed?
“How did the Petruvian army even make it up the mountain? Don’t we have security?” Kaidren asks.
“We’re not sure how they got here without anyone knowing.
” The soldier looks nervous. “The Sulen gatepost was attacked. It guards the most direct path up the mountain. According to our sentry patrol, there were signs of a battle. Not that it should matter. As soon as they were attacked, those soldiers should have lit their torches, signaling that we were under attack. We’re still not sure what went wrong. ”
I need details. “What signs of attack did the sentries find?”
The decurio answers my question but directs it at Luc without looking at me. “Weapons were discarded, there was blood everywhere, there were no signs of life, and there was a Petruvian flag hanging in the tower.”
My heart clenches.
I didn’t hang a Petruvian flag.
I convinced the guards to leave. I scattered weapons, spilled “blood,” I even scuffed up the floor to make it look like there was a skirmish. But I never hung a flag.
Someone else swept through the gatepost I staged and actually gained access to the mountain.
I unwittingly created the perfect opportunity for sabotage. For our Republic to be sieged during the most important day of my life. Widow’s Hall is actually under attack—and it’s all my fault.