by Kiera Cass
Unsatisfied, he straightened his back and continued circling the room like a vulture.
“Since the beginning of his reign, something has been . . . off about Quinten, though the outright attacks on Isoltens who dare to oppose him only started happening in the last decade or so. He oughtn’t be king, and our family is searching for the right way to go about removing him.”
I squinted as I pulled the thread taut. “If a king is truly awful, isn’t there usually a revolt? Don’t people just get angry and take the castle?”
She sighed. “One would think. But, as a Coroan, I know you understand when I say that Isolte is a land of laws. Quinten’s disposition leads us to believe he’s pulling the strings behind every awful thing that’s ever happened in Isolte, and he’s certainly never done anything to contradict the notion. But . . . what if we’re wrong? What if it’s some lone vigilante? What if it’s Hadrian, who has no means of physically protecting himself, using others to knock opponents down? What if it’s some group of rogues acting on their volition? Attempting to overthrow a king without just cause is against the law, but the act of doing so with just cause is lawful. If we could only catch him in action, we would have the proof we need. We would have the support of thousands of years of edicts and commandments behind us and, once we spread the truth widely, the support of the people at large. Without that, we’d be seen as lawless usurpers. . . . Anything we attempted would be unmade as quickly as we built it.”
“So, that’s the problem? No one’s ever seen him with their own eyes making an order or drawing a sword?” I asked.
Etan’s footsteps clearly fell behind me, then became quieter as he walked down the length of the room. I took a breath, feeling much calmer without him over my shoulder.
She nodded. “And if anyone could figure out a way to do it, it’s those two. Sharpest minds of us all when it comes to plans.”
“Well then, at least we’re in good hands. I’m just happy nothing like that is up to me! I don’t have that kind of talent.”
She smiled. “You have talents all your own, Hollis. I’ve seen them in action. And that’s what matters. We all must use everything we have to make a difference.”
“Indeed.” I looked across the room at Etan. Silas had sworn Etan was talented himself. I knew him to be a soldier, and he seemed calm under pressure. He lacked many other admirable qualities—kindness being at the top of the list—but I couldn’t deny he had a quick mind. That didn’t make me admire him, though.
He downed the last of his drink and set his cup down so loud it rang throughout the room, drawing my attention whether I wanted to give it to him or not. His eyes studied me. There was something about his glare that chilled me through and through. In a single look Etan Northcott made it shockingly clear that he hated me—and was desperate to see me gone.
But he was not the head of this household, and it seemed, as far as his parents were concerned, I was more than welcome. As if reading my thoughts and wanting to show just how much a part of this I was, Lord Northcott stood and walked our way.
“Is my wife informing you of what an ordeal you’ve walked into? Of all the plans you’re now tied up in?” he asked. His movement prompted his son, who was now back to circling.
I smiled up at him. “I had an idea. But I didn’t realize how much work you’ve been doing here, trying to make things right. On that front, it seems I have much to learn.”
He sat down in a large chair across from me as Mother came to stand, her hands resting on the back of said chair. “I cannot think of a better time to tell you what we know, what we’ve guessed, and what we’re working on.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Etan whispered, though it wasn’t as if I wouldn’t hear. Twice now he’d publicly expressed I was not to be trusted.
Lord Northcott smiled at his son, not judging him, not even really correcting him, but simply stating the obvious in his eyes. “Yes, I think my new niece should be included in our plans, shaky as they are.”
Etan’s eyes went to me again, and I could see that air of suspicion in them.
“Lady Northcott already started explaining some of this,” I offered. “It sounds like what we need is proof that King Quinten is behind the Darkest Knights’ actions before he can be overthrown?”
“Essentially. So, for now, finding proof is our strategy.” Lord Northcott sighed. “Not that we haven’t attempted before, of course,” he said, speaking mainly to me. “We’ve tried to bribe guards. We have friends who live at court with eyes always open. We have . . . well, more support than one might guess. But, so far, we haven’t had much success.” He met all of our eyes in turn. “And with how violent and frequent the attacks have been, I feel that whatever it is we do next might be our last attempt at revealing Quinten’s actions. All of us are to work on this. What do we know already? Who might be able to aid us in this? Which reminds me. Etan?” He turned away to face his son. “Did you hear anything as you passed into or out of Coroa? I assumed your fellow soldiers would speak without their guards up around you.”
He nodded slowly, unwilling to speak right away. “I did. It seems the queen has lost her child and is trying for another.”
I looked at him, hating to be so desperate for news that only he could give.
“How is Valentina?”
He squinted at me and shrugged. “I don’t typically ask about the welfare of my enemies.”
It was a word I was certain he associated with me as well.
“She’s just a young woman,” I countered. “She’s done nothing.”
“She’s the wife of my enemy. She’s trying to add to the most ruthless royal family in the history of the line. She certainly isn’t a friend.”
“She’s my friend,” I whispered.
He didn’t bother replying, moving on with his news.
“Quinten is trying to perpetuate the idea that she’s with child, but the women of court say she has no cravings and is still active, so I can’t say there’s much to it.”
I swallowed, imagining Valentina alone in her castle, probably both thankful that she’d been given another chance and terrified of what was coming for her if she failed. I couldn’t see that pressure helping with the process.
“Prince Hadrian was ill of late. Well, more so than usual. He missed a few days at court, and when he was brought back out, he could hardly walk. I don’t know what King Quinten thinks he’s accomplishing there, parading Hadrian around when he’s so weak.”
“Poor boy,” Lady Northcott sighed. “I don’t know how he’s managed to stay alive as long as he has. It will be a miracle if he lives to see his wedding day.”
“When is that to come again?” Mother asked.
“She’s supposed to arrive early next year,” Lady Northcott confirmed.
“I’m still shocked they went abroad to find a bride for him,” Lord Northcott commented.
“Is it so extraordinary that Prince Hadrian would marry another royal?” I asked.
“Yes,” the others replied almost simultaneously.
I raised my eyebrows at that. “Huh. Before I left, I was unofficially placed on a contract. My firstborn daughter—assuming she had an older brother to inherit the throne—was to marry Hadrian’s eldest son. Jameson said it was uncharacteristic of King Quinten to arrange such a thing, for any Isolten royal to marry outside the country. I guess he was right.”
Lord Northcott stared at me. “Is that true?”
I darted my eyes around the room and saw that everyone was leaning in, watching me in surprise.
“Yes. Jameson and Quinten signed the contract, but Hadrian, Valentina, and I were in the room. I suppose nothing will come of it now, since I wasn’t properly named on it. Or perhaps the weight of it will transfer to Delia Grace. Why? What is it?”
“What could that be about?” Lord Northcott wondered aloud.
“Legitimacy,” Etan said quickly. “They want other royal blood in the line so that no one can question their descendants’
claim to the throne. In return, he’s offering Coroans the allegiance of Isolte, the largest kingdom on the continent.” Etan shook his head. “It’s brilliant.”
There was a long silence as everyone took this in. King Quinten was making plans to protect himself and his line, and we were still sitting here with no idea of how to even attack.
“Is there anything we can do about this?” I asked quietly.
Lord Northcott’s brow was knit tight as he drummed his fingers against each other. “I don’t think so, but that’s good information to have. Thank you, Hollis. Is there anything else you can think of, anything from that trip in particular, that you think might be of value?”
I swallowed. “I hate to disappoint, but I was strongly encouraged to keep my distance from Quinten when he was visiting, so we only spoke briefly.”
The one, quick interaction shot through my memory, and it was as painfully clear as a punch to the chest.
“Oh.” I felt my body go cold. It seemed too much of a coincidence to actually be one.
“What?” Etan asked. “Does he have other plans?”
I shook my head, my eyes brimming with tears against my will. “He warned me.”
“Who? Quinten?” Mother asked.
I nodded. I could feel the tears spilling over as I flashed back into the Great Hall of Keresken Castle. I was holding the crown Silas had made. He’d been standing right beside me when it happened. “He noticed I’d gotten close to your family . . . and he . . . I can’t remember the exact words, but he told me to be careful, or I’d get burned.”
Mother covered her mouth with her hand, her face a mask of horror.
He knew. He knew even then he was going to kill them, and he could guess I was going to be close enough to the Eastoffes that I would be in danger myself.
“Father, is that not enough?” Etan asked.
“I’m afraid not, my son. It is a brick, but we need a wall.”
I sat there, still stunned by Quinten’s words, and trying to think of anything else he might have said.
“Are you all right, Hollis?” Scarlet asked quietly. She’d been so quiet, I’d almost forgotten she was there. But she understood. She was haunted in her own way.
I nodded, though it was a lie. Sometimes it felt like Silas had been dead for years, one chapter in a book that I’d finished reading long ago. But other times, it felt like the pain of losing him was so new it ripped the wound open and forced it wider, leaving my very heart bleeding over a love so young it had barely learned to walk.
I dabbed at my tears. I could cry when I was alone. Not here.
“Speaking of the attack, there is another detail that concerns me.”
I looked over at Etan, watching as he toyed with his cuffs, looking as if he simply needed something to occupy his hands.
“And what is that?” Mother inquired.
“News of it hadn’t reached the lines at all.”
“So?” Mother asked.
“That the king succeeded in nearly cutting down an entire branch of the family seems like something everyone would know about. If not from his own gloating, from others’ fear. But they said nothing of it when I traveled to Coroa, and they knew nothing when we passed back into Isolte today.” He shook his head. “I think we need to be on guard.”
Lord Northcott looked up at him, serious and calm. “We are always on guard.”
“Yes, but this event is startling,” Etan insisted, gesturing to Mother. “By now, the rumors ought to be swelling. They’re not. If the king is silencing people, we very well might be his next target.”
“You’re letting your imagination run away with you, son. We have always been wary where the king is concerned, but there’s no reason for us to run around in a panic. We are still descendants of a princess, not a prince. Queen Valentina is still young, and Prince Hadrian still lives. I think, in the near future, his focus will be on them, not us. For now, we will continue with a search for undeniable evidence. We will not hide, and we will not run.”
Etan huffed but said no more, at least seeming to respect his father enough to obey. As far as I’d seen, he had little respect for much else.
But there was a part of me that completely understood Etan’s concern. If the Darkest Knights would cavalierly dispose of bodies in front of King Quinten’s palace to brag of their works, why was no one speaking of this?
There were too many questions floating around our situation, and none of us knew how we were going to find the answers.
Three
IT WAS MIDNIGHT, AND I still couldn’t sleep. One thing I missed about Keresken Castle—which had irritated me so much toward the end—was the constant stream of sound. The whisper of maids, the scuttling of feet, and even the rattle of carriages in the distance became a lullaby for me, and in the weeks since I’d left, I hadn’t grown used to its absence. I found myself straining my ears, hoping I’d find something to be the melody of an otherwise silent night. It didn’t happen.
Sometimes, when the world was too quiet, other sounds came to my head, ones that I’d invented. I would hear Silas screaming. I would hear him pleading. Or sometimes my mother would be crying out instead. My mind tried to fill in the spaces of what it didn’t know, imagining the worst. I tried to force myself to assume the best. I told myself my mother fainted from the fear of it all, and my father, distressed, was knelt over, clutching her hand. That way, he never saw death when it came, and she never felt it.
As for Silas, I couldn’t imagine him not staring down anything that came at him, good or bad. If he screamed, it wouldn’t have been for mercy or in fear. It would have been as he went down, fighting with every breath.
I tossed in my bed. I’d known my mind would be searching for other clues from King Quinten’s visit to the palace, but there was nothing else to find. At least, it seemed like there wasn’t. That didn’t stop me from trying and then wishing for sleep and then realizing there were too many things in my mind fighting it, including the fact that someone who hated me was right next door.
I finally got out of bed, daring to venture across the hall to Scarlet’s room. She wasn’t sleeping well these days, either.
“Who’s there?” she asked, sitting bolt upright in the moonlight at the sound of the creaking door. I had no doubt her knife was already in her hand.
“Just me.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“No, I can’t blame you. I’m not feeling exactly at ease myself right now.” I climbed into the bed beside her. It was familiar. When I’d first left court and was being sheltered by the Eastoffes, it was Scarlet’s room I shared. Those were comfortable days—us crammed into a bed that needed about as much repair as the rest of the house, waking up with someone’s slow and sleepy breathing to let us know we weren’t alone.
We’d sing songs in whispers and laugh at old stories and rumors of court. I’d been an only child my whole life. Being swallowed into a family with older siblings and younger siblings and, most important, a sister was a dream come true.
The mood was decidedly different now.
“I keep thinking about Quinten’s visit to Keresken and trying to remember anything he might have said or done that we could use as proof . . . nothing’s coming to mind, and it’s pushing me to madness.”
“Ah, well, you’ll fit in here perfectly,” she said as I settled under the blankets. “We probably should have asked to share a room. After living in that tiny space in the castle, I realized how much I liked having my family nearby. It was a treat that we needed to share back at Abicrest.”
“I had the same thought. I just didn’t want to be rude. Your aunt and uncle have been so generous.”
“They really like you,” she said. “Aunt Jovana keeps saying you have an uplifting presence.”
I chuckled humorlessly. “My parents had other words for that, but I’m glad she appreciates me all the same. If only Etan would stop glaring at me.”
“Just ignore him for now.”
“I’m tryin
g, I swear.” I sighed and gave the one real question I had a voice. “Do we have a chance here, Scarlet? You’ve been in this since birth, so you’d know better than I would.”
She swallowed. “Our support runs deep. For years we’ve all but had an army ready to go. I know Aunt Jovana told you about the law . . .”
“She did. I can’t say I don’t understand, but these seem like extenuating circumstances.”
She replied, her tone low and serious, “If we were wrong, it would mean death for everyone involved. And if we didn’t act fast enough, the Darkest Knights could come and wipe us all out before we even began. I want to see him pay . . . but we have to do it right or it’s all for nothing.”
I sighed again. In my eyes, it was hard to imagine that there was a right way to fix so much wrong, but if this was what the family said to do, then I’d follow.
“Do you know why we left Isolte?” Scarlet asked.
“Silas told me it was his idea, and Mother said your livestock was slaughtered . . . I’d have left, too.”
She shook her head. “Remember—if we remove Quinten from the throne, he has to be replaced with somebody . . . someone with Jedreck’s royal blood.”
I sat up, tracing the obvious line of events in my head, unable to believe I’d never considered it before now.
“Silas?”
She nodded. “Firstborn son of the male line . . . he was the one people talked about. Well, the ones who were daring enough to speak at all.”
I hung my head, thinking of how selfish I’d been. An entire country lost something when Silas Eastoffe died. I wondered if what Etan said was true, if people didn’t know he was gone yet. I wondered if they’d started pinning their hopes on . . .
“Scarlet,” I gasped. “Are you saying . . . you could be queen?”
She sighed, toying with the blanket. “I’ve been praying it doesn’t come to that. Part of why we came back was to throw our support behind Uncle Reid. He should be king.”
“But . . . but you could rule. You could shape the world around you any way you want.”
