Go past the kitchens to the stairway,Theo told her in his message.My room is on the second floor.
Roa found the creaking steps and took them. Then found the door to Theo’s room.
He opened on the second knock.
His hair was damp and loose around his shoulders, as if he’d just bathed. He wore simple cotton trousers and a shirt, which Roa knew he’d sleep in.
She knew it, because she’d slept next to him once. The night before she rode off to fight in Dax’s revolt.
Or rather,he’dslept. Roa had lain there, wide-awake, thinking about what they’d done.
“Roa.” He drew her into a hug. Roa breathed in the soapy smell of him and soaked up the warmth of him, remembering that night.
Sometimes she wondered if she’d yielded out of guilt. As if she’d known, even then, that she wasn’t coming back to him.
“I can’t stay long,” she said, finally pulling away and pushing her sandskarf back to fall around her shoulders. “There’s a guard out front, and I don’t quite trust him.”
Theo frowned, but nodded, ushering her into the room. The walls were saffron yellow and the bed took up nearly two-thirdsof the space. In the corner, a low-lying crimson sofa in need of reupholstering was pressed up against the wall.
On the bedside table a slender vase held a single white highland rose.
“How did the Assembly go?” Theo asked, sitting on the arm of the dilapidated sofa.
Roa sank into the cushions and told him everything, ending with Dax’s proclamation about the Relinquishing.
“Is that supposed to be a peace offering?” Theo rolled his eyes. “Why can’t he just do as he promised and lift the sanctions?”
“Because he’s a weak king,” she said, thinking of the way Dax buckled so easily under the pressure his council exerted. “And he doesn’t care. But don’t you see? This is your chance. The gates will be open from now until the Relinquishing. Scrublanders are free to pass into the city, unchecked, as a show of Dax’s hospitality. And on the longest night of the year—six days from now—everyone will be wearing masks for the festival.”
Theo went quiet, staring at her, his lips parting in surprise.
“It’s the perfect opportunity,” she said.
The words snapped him out of his reverie. He lowered himself down from the sofa’s arm to the cushions. “You’ve changed your mind, then? You’ll help me?”
Roa looked down into her lap, nodding. “On one condition.”
He lifted his hands, palms up, like an offering. “I’ll do anything for you, Roa. You know I will. Just name it.”
Roa breathed in deep and said: “You can’t harm him.”
Theo blinked at her. Before he could counter, Roa pressed on.
“With enough armed men and a well-executed plan, we can take the palace and force him to abdicate the throne.”
“Abdicate,” Theo murmured. “And then what? You send him into exile and rule alone? If he’s alive, he’ll always be a danger to you.”
Roa shrugged. “That’s a risk we’ll have to take.”
“It’s not a risk I’m willing to take,” said Theo sharply. “I wantyouon that throne. For a long time.”
She drew Essie’s knife out of its sheath and ran her thumb along the hilt’s inscription. “I barely have enough support in Firgaard as it is. If I were to kill him, I’ll lose any support I might have. And more importantly: I’ll be guilty of regicide. That’s a death sentence.”
Mostimportantly: Roa wasn’t a murderer.
After a long pause, he said more softly: “What if I could get you the support you need? Someone who could protect you?”
She lowered the knife in her lap. “What?”
