HOA WAS MERCIFUL ENOUGH TO let me sleep in—she knew I needed it. It must be past noon. For a moment, I forget what happened last night, but as soon as I move, the welts on my back send a lightning bolt of pain through me and I let out a hiss.
“The Prinz is back,” Artemisia says immediately, like she’s been waiting for hours for me to wake up. She likely has been. I slowly force myself into a sitting position.
“Did you hear me?” she asks when I don’t answer right away.
“I did,” I say. My wounds ache as I stretch my arms over my head. “Give me a moment.”
I carefully climb out of bed, crossing to my wardrobe to keep my back to her. My heart is racing, and it’s difficult to hide my sense of panic. Though I still remember the feel of Blaise’s arms around me, his lips against mine, I can’t deny that I have feelings for Søren as well, and if he’s back, that means the time is coming for me to kill him. I don’t want to; the thought of burying my dagger in his flesh, the way I killed Ampelio, makes me want to vomit, and I don’t think it’s something I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for.
But with the Kalovaxians divided and fighting among themselves, they’ll be weakened to an outside attack. It’s the best chance we have to start to reclaim our country and free my people. I can’t afford not to take it.
I find an amethyst chiton dress that I don’t need Hoa’s help to put on and pull it out of the wardrobe. “Who told you that Søren’s back?” I ask Artemisia, silently chiding myself for using his name instead of just his title. I can’t help but think of the Prinz and Søren as different entities altogether. It makes it easier that way.
“No offense, Theo, but watching you sleep is boring,” Heron says. “I cloaked myself and took a walk around the castle a couple of hours ago. It was all anyone was talking about.”
“Any word on how badly his troops fared?” I ask, wincing as I stretch my back, causing the fresh wounds to stretch as well. “I’d like to know that whipping came with a silver lining.”
“He left with four thousand men; he came back with less than two thousand,” Heron says, and I can practically hear him smiling. “Dragonsbane came through.”
“Albeit reluctantly,” Art adds. “According to the crew members I talked with this morning, she only wanted to warn the Vecturians. They gathered enough forces from all of the Vecturian Islands to put up a fight against the four thousand Kalovaxians. My mother’s ship was on its way back here when the Vecturian members of her crew rebelled and convinced most of the crew to return and help tip the scales. The Kalovaxians didn’t expect it to be much of a fight. They weren’t prepared and had no choice but to retreat.”
“Still, give her my thanks,” I say to Artemisia. “It’s no wonder the Kaiser was so angry.” I can’t help but smile. It was worth it, I tell myself, even as my back aches.
“Tell her the rest,” Blaise says, his voice soft.
“Blaise,” Artemisia says, a warning in her voice.
Panic seizes my chest. If Artemisia is the one trying to spare my feelings, it can’t be good. “Tell me,” I say.
Heron sighs. “They didn’t leave without a parting gift. A thousand flaming arrows with Fire Gem heads, shot into the forest by the shore. There was a village there, a small one.”
“It was also the location of most of Vecturia’s food sources,” Artemisia adds. “They couldn’t put the fire out until three-quarters of it was gone. With winter coming…” She doesn’t finish, but she doesn’t have to.
Most of the people there will starve. I don’t have to ask to know that it was Søren who gave that command. It’s a brilliant move, disgusting as it is. Would I do the same, if it came down to it? I tell myself I would never doom thousands of innocent people to die for my country. But as soon as I think it, I know it isn’t true. Manipulative as she might be, Crescentia has no blood on her hands, and by the time the sun rises tomorrow, I’ll have killed her. It’s a smaller scale, yes, but it isn’t so different. I’m not so different.
I am my mother’s daughter, but she only raised me for six years. The Kaiser’s had the other ten, and whether I like it or not, he’s had a hand in shaping me.
I clear my throat, aware of them all watching me, waiting for a reaction. “They’ll still eat better than they would have if the Kalovaxians had won,” I say, struggling to sound certain when I’m anything but. There is no right answer, no right path. People die no matter what I do. But fewer people, which is something, isn’t it? Of course, more than two thousand Kalovaxians were killed as well, and though their deaths are a victory for us, they were all someone’s child, someone’s sweetheart, someone’s friend. Someone will be torn apart mourning them.
“We made the right move,” Blaise says, his voice firm. “I just thought you should know.”
My throat is tight when I speak again, but I manage to get the words out. “I always want to know.”
I busy myself by crouching down next to my bed and reaching under the sheets to the small hole in the mattress. With my face hidden, I take the chance to let my guilt rack me, but by the time I rise again, Encatrio in hand, there is no sign of it. I can’t afford weakness, especially not now.
The time has come for little birds to fly. The words echo in my mind, in Ampelio’s voice and in my mother’s. The time has come to avenge them, finally. The time has come to reclaim what is mine, no matter what it costs me.
“The Kaiser will have a dinner in Søren’s honor tonight,” I say. “He always does when a crew returns from battle, and I’m sure he’ll find some way to spin it into a victory. Søren won’t be able to make it through the night without lashing out at the Kaiser. I’ll push him to it if I need to.”
“But if Cress sees you talking to him, she’ll tell the Kaiser about you—” Blaise starts, but I interrupt.
“Cress won’t be there,” I say, the pieces of a plan falling into place. “She’ll miss the banquet, and since he’s due to leave tomorrow, the Theyn will insist on staying to dine with her. He’d rather spend time with his daughter than attend a banquet celebrating a battle he had nothing to do with. The poison will be in the dessert wine, which they should drink close to midnight. And I’ll make plans with Søren to see him after the banquet and then I’ll finish it. We need to send word to Dragonsbane that we’re leaving before morning.”
“What about the girl?” Heron asks. “We’re taking her with us, aren’t we?”
“Yes, and her family.” I press my lips together. “Her mother and brother should be in the slave quarter. Get them on Dragonsbane’s ship this afternoon,” I say after a moment. “But you can’t take Elpis until tonight.”
The Theyn is the last person I want to see today, but I console myself with the knowledge that he’ll be dead soon and unable to hurt me—or anyone—ever again. I won’t wake up screaming from nightmares about him. I won’t cower when he enters a room. I won’t have to look into the face of my mother’s murderer and smile.
The Encatrio is warm in the pocket of my dress, a constant reminder of its presence and its power. I don’t think about Crescentia. As difficult a choice as this is, I am doing the right thing. The only thing.
I knock on the door to Crescentia and the Theyn’s quarters, and only a moment passes before the door opens to reveal Elpis’s round face.
“Lady Thora,” she says. She’s surprised, but she’s careful to keep her face blank. She has the makings of a good little spy, though I hate that I made her into that. I hate that I now have to ask more of her.
“Is Crescentia here?” I ask her.
She glances behind her to make sure no one is listening nearby. “Lady Crescentia is having lunch with the Prinz,” she tells me in a hushed tone.
“Oh?” I ask. I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s an arrangement, of course, orchestrated by the Kaiser and the Theyn. “Well, I can’t blame her for finding his company preferable to mine, but please tell her I stopped by.”
I don’t make a move to leave and she casts a glance behind her to make sure we’re alone. “Is there anything else?” she asks meaningfully. “The Theyn is out as well.”
“You said your mother was a botanist before the siege. I don’t suppose you know your way around plants and herbs as well?”
Elpis’s forehead creases, but she nods. “Passably, yes.”
“Can you think of something that might make Crescentia ill enough to miss the banquet for the Prinz tonight, but not too ill to partake in her evening meal?”
She chews on her lip for a moment. “I don’t think there is an ill enough that would make Lady Crescentia miss this banquet.”
Elpis has a point. Tonight will bring Cress one step closer to becoming a prinzessin. She’ll spend the whole night at Søren’s side and the entire court will be whispering about it. She wouldn’t miss it if she were dying. But…
“What if you put something in her powders that would affect her appearance?” I suggest. “She wouldn’t want to go to the banquet then.”
A small smile works its way to Elpis’s mouth, growing wider. “Ground treska seeds. That would irritate her skin, even cause it to swell if I use enough.”
“Use enough,” I tell her, not wanting to take any chances. And though I’m not proud of it, the idea of Cress’s lovely face red and swollen gives me some satisfaction. “Do you have access to it?”
“Yes, we keep some whole seeds in the pantry to use as a spice. Grinding them up will be easy,” she says, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet in excitement. “I can do it tonight when she’s preparing for the banquet.”
“Perfect,” I say. “Thank you, Elpis.”
I should leave it at that, but I linger for a moment more, another favor weighing heavy on my tongue. I search for a different way even as I know there isn’t one. I will never have the strength to poison Cress myself. I know that now. But looking at Elpis, seeing the uncomplicated hate she feels for Cress and the Theyn, I know she does. “Would you like to do more?” I ask her.
Elpis’s eyes widen. “Please,” she breathes.
I only let myself hesitate for a second before I draw the Encatrio vial from my pocket. “Then I have another job for you. You’re welcome to say no, Elpis. I won’t be angry. We’ll find another way. One of my Shadows is fetching your mother and brother now, putting them on a ship to safety. You’ll be with them by tonight, I promise, no matter what you choose.”
Elpis listens intently as I outline my plan, nodding along with her mouth twisted and her brow furrowed. Even as I ask it of her, I know it’s too much. She’s a child, and I’m trying to make her a murderer—like me, I think. This is not a job for a child, and I can almost feel Blaise’s disapproval from wherever he’s watching me.
Though, really, I’m not making Elpis anything the Kaiser and the Theyn and even Crescentia haven’t already made her. In a way, the Kalovaxians raised her, too.
So of course, she says yes.