“That’s wonderful,” I said, and the relief felt like a balm. I’d needed the reminder that kindness and empathy existed, even when it felt like so many people feasted on the misery of others.
“The garrison, under Yue’s leadership, is increasing security in all the markets. They’ll get word to the palace if he’s spotted again. In the meantime, I’d prefer you stay inside.”
I nodded. “Wren is here.” It wasn’t an agreement to stay, but an acknowledgment that I had no plans to be anywhere else.
And he guessed my game. “Clever Little Fox.”
The ruffling of expensive fabric echoed down the hallway. “Catalaya,” I said.
Her injury apparently healed, she hurried down the hallway toward us, fear in her face and skirts in hand. Her maid and two guards followed behind.
She reached us and put a hand on the prince’s. “I’ve only just learned what happened. Are you all right?”
“Fine. I wasn’t injured.”
“And the rebel?”
“The Aetheric practitioner,” the prince clarified. “A manwho can wield the Aetheric and has decided to use that power against others.”
She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again, she looked deeply saddened. “I’d hoped we could finally live in peace.”
“The world is never truly at peace, and tonight’s no different. You should go back to your room. Bolt the door, and stay there, just in case.”
“Just in case?” Catalaya asked.
“Just in case he tries to breach the wall. I don’t think it’s likely, but it’s better to be safe. We want to give him as few targets as possible.”
That was nonsense; he didn’t have his army yet, which was why he kept sneaking around, attacking civilians. The prince wanted her out of the way.
“I see.” She looked at me expectantly, apparently waiting for me to leave first.
“Fox and I have matters to discuss,” he said. “I need to get a full report of the night’s events so I can advise my father. We’re just waiting on Galen; Wren was injured in the attack.”
“How unfortunate.” Catalaya took a haggard breath. “I’ll do as you say, of course. If there’s work to be done—making bandages, preparing salves—I can help. I’ve done it in the Edgelands. Many times,” she added. There was a grimness in her tone that I thought might have been the only honest emotion she’d shown. Not, I think, because someone had put her to work, but because war or fighting had required it.
“Thank you, Caty.” He shifted his gaze to her guards. “Take care of her.”
“Your Highness,” they said, and the entourage disappeared into the depths of the palace.
Two of his guards stood outside his rooms.
“Gentlemen,” the prince said to them, then pushed open the door with a soft complaint from the hinge.
I followed him inside, and he closed the heavy door again. There was no fire, but dozens of candles spilled pretty light across his sitting room, and a high window opened to allow in a breeze. I went to the bench near the empty hearth and sat down. I felt suddenly weighed down by all of it, as if the fear and magic and fury had put iron in my bones.
The prince moved to a small cabinet and brought me a cup. “Drink this. It will take some of the chill off.”
I took the cup and downed it. It burned like fire but left me feeling a little bit boneless. That was a relief.
“Thank you for not asking if it was poisoned.” He took the cup back. “If you’re still unsettled, you can scream a bit before Galen comes back. Or…” He looked around, then settled his gaze on the cup again and held it up. “You can break this.”
“Are you muddled? I could get good coins for that.”
“So you are still in there. Good. I was worried.” He put the cup down, came to the bench, and crouched in front of me. I could smell leather and woodsy soap. “You talked to Luna?”
I nodded.
“Do you want to tell me about it? About what you can do?”
