Farley.
But instead of the revolutionary, Maven steps out of the darkness. He throws aside the curtains, letting in enough moonlight to see by.
“Late-night walk?” he says with a bitter smile.
My mouth falls open, struggling for words. “You know you’re not supposed to be in here.” I force a smile, hoping to calm myself. “Lady Blonos will be scandalized. She’ll punish us both.”
“Mother’s men owe me a favor or two,” he says, pointing to where the cameras are hidden. “Blonos won’t have evidence to convict.”
Somehow that doesn’t comfort me. Instead, I feel shivers run over my skin. Not in fear though, but anticipation. The shivers deepen, electrifying my nerves like my lightning as Maven takes measured steps toward me.
He watches me blush with what looks like satisfaction. “Sometimes I forget,” he murmurs, letting a hand touch my cheek. It lingers, like he can feel the color that pulses in my veins. “I wish they wouldn’t have to paint you up every day.”
My skin buzzes under his fingers, but I try to ignore it. “That makes two of us.”
His lips twist, trying to form a smile, but it just won’t come.
“What’s wrong?”
“Farley made contact again.” He draws back, shoving his hands into his pockets to hide trembling fingers. “You weren’t here.”
Just my luck. “What did she say?”
Maven shrugs. He walks to the window, staring out at the night sky. “She spent most of her time asking questions.”
Targets. She must’ve pressed him again, asking for information Maven didn’t want to give. I can tell by the droop of his shoulders, the tremor in his voice, that he said more than he wanted to. A lot more.
“Who?” My mind flies to the many Silvers I’ve met here, the ones who have been kind to me, in their own way. Would any of them be a sacrifice to her revolution? Who would be marked?
“Maven, who did you give up?”
He spins around, a ferocity I’ve never seen flashing in his eyes. For a second, I’m afraid he might burst into flames. “I didn’t want to do it, but she’s right. We can’t sit still, we have to act. And if that means I’m going to give her people, I’m going to do it. I won’t like it, but I will. And I have.”
Like Cal, he draws a shaky breath in an attempt to calm himself. “I sit on councils with my father, for taxes and security and defense. I know who will be missed by my—by the Silvers. I gave her four names.”
“Who?”
“Reynald Iral. Ptolemus Samos. Ellyn Macanthos. Belicos Lerolan.”
A sigh escapes me, before I feel myself nod. These deaths will not be hidden. Evangeline’s brother, the colonel—they will be missed indeed. “Colonel Macanthos knew your mother was lying. She knows about the other attacks—”
“She commands a half legion and heads the war council. Without her, the front will be a mess for months.”
“The front?” Cal. His legion.
Maven nods. “My father will not send his heir to war after this. An attack so close to home, I doubt he’ll even let him out of sight of the capital.”
So her death will save Cal. And help the Guard.
Shade died for this. His cause is mine now.
“Two birds with one stone,” I breathe, feeling hot tears threaten to fall. As difficult as this might be, I’ll trade her life for Cal’s. I’ll do it a thousand times.
“Your friend’s part of this too.”
My knees shake, but I manage to keep myself upright. I alternate between anger and fear as Maven explains the plan with a heavy, hardened heart.
“And what if we fail?” I ask when he finishes, finally speaking aloud the words he’s been skirting around.
He barely shakes his head. “That won’t happen.”
“But what if we do?” I’m not a prince, my life has not been charming. I know to expect the worst out of everything and everyone. “What happens if we fail, Maven?”
His breath rattles in his chest as he inhales, fighting to remain calm. “Then we’ll be traitors, both of us. Tried for treason, convicted—and killed.”
During my next lesson with Julian, I can’t concentrate. I can’t focus on anything but what’s coming. So much can go wrong and so much is at stake. My life, Kilorn’s, Maven’s—we’re all putting our necks on the line for this.
“It’s really not my business, but,” Julian begins, his voice startling me, “you seem, well, very attached to Prince Maven.”
I almost laugh in relief, but I can’t help but feel stung at the same time. Maven’s the last person I should be wary of in this pit of snakes. Just the suggestion makes me bristle. “I am engaged to him,” I reply, trying my best not to snap.
But instead of letting it drop, Julian leans forward. His placid demeanor usually soothes me, but today it’s nothing but frustrating. “I’m just trying to help you. Maven is his mother’s son.”
This time I really do snap. “You don’t know a thing about him.” Maven’s my friend. Maven’s risking more than me. “Judging him by his parents is like judging me for my blood. Just because you hate the king and queen doesn’t mean you can hate him too.”
Julian stares at me, his gaze level and full of fire. When he speaks, his voice sounds more like a growl. “I hate the king because he couldn’t save my sister, because he replaced her with that viper. I hate the queen because she ruined Sara Skonos, because she took the girl I loved and broke her apart. Because she cut Sara’s tongue out.” And then lower, a lament, “She had such a beautiful voice.”
A wave of nausea washes over me. Suddenly Sara’s painful silence, her sunken cheeks make sense. No wonder Julian had her heal me; she couldn’t tell anyone the truth.
“But”—my words are small and hoarse, like it’s my voice being taken away—“she’s a healer.”
“Skin healers can’t heal themselves. And no one would cross the queen’s punishment. So Sara has to live like that, shamed, forever.” His voice echoes with memories, each one worse than the last. “Silvers don’t mind pain, but we are proud. Pride, dignity, honor; those are things no ability can replace.”
As terrible as I feel for Sara, I can’t help but fear for myself. They cut her tongue out for something she said. What will they possibly do to me?