Which leaves any conversation to her husband and son.
“I’m surprised you haven’t grown tired of your pet prisoner,” Imrik says.
Kazia tops off his wine glass since Aliza isn’t looking. “He’s very amusing. He’s still so angry to be here.”
Imrik doesn’t look up from sawing through his chicken. “He may not be here for much longer.”
Kazia covers his nerves with a childish pout. “You said I could keep him, Father.”
“I said until negotiations concluded.”
Which Kazia had thought meant forever. There’s no way King Imrik and Queen Margot reached a satisfying deal. “Can’t you drag the negotiations out? Just a little more?”
Imrik chuckles. “I’ll let you tour the jail, and you can have your choice of the other prisoners. Try not to pick a mage this time. It’s quite the security burden.”
Kazia can’t push too hard. “Thank you, Father.” Desperate to change the conversation, Kazia glances at Aliza. The book is familiar. It’s the same one she had the night she half-healed him. “What are you reading, Mother? Is it any good?”
Aliza beams with alarming joy. “It’s excellent. Just what I wanted. A copy of Radovan’s research notes.”
Kazia goes cold. He can’t have heard that right. “I thought all his notes were missing. You were looking for them.”
“And I found them!” Aliza taps the book. “I found this copy at my hunting lodge. Such wonderful luck that I thought to search there.”
With a dreamy smile, she returns to reading, as Kazia’s mind races through his shock. The hunting lodge story was just supposed to lure Aliza away from the palace for a few days. He never imagined Radovan might actually have been stupid enough to leave notes there.
Kazia can’t wait four days. He has to act now.
***
“Change of plans.” Kazia slams the parlor door behind him. “We move tomorrow.”
Lucien jumps up from the table. “What’s wrong?”
Kazia wants to kiss him. He wants to jump into Lucien’s arms and be carried away. To be kissed and held and anything else Lucien will give him, until he can’t think or fear anymore.
But they’re not alone. Marek glares from his seat, with Sei staring in fascination behind him. Salarin stands nearby, looking resigned. And at the fourth seat—
“Who’s that?” Kazia asks, pointing at the man with red streaks in his hair.
“That’s Whisper,” Lucien says.
Whisper rises but doesn’t bow. His is the calmest face in the room. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.”
“Charmed,” Kazia says, then whirls to Lucien. “What is Julien Sandry’s partner doing here?”
“He’s helping.” Lucien squeezes Kazia’s hand. His bright blue eyes focus as if Kazia’s the only one in the room. “Whisper knows what we’re doing, not why. I wouldn’t tell anyone that. But Whisper will be useful.”
Kazia has to believe Lucien. He doesn’t have time for petty arguments. Or even rather serious arguments about Silaisan spies. “Marek, are you ready with the dragon corps?”
“Yes, but Vana’s ships aren’t in position.” Marek appears torn between focusing on Kazia and Lucien’s hand.
“The ships have been spotted,” Kazia says. “That will have to be good enough, even if the coast army hasn’t finished repositioning.”
“This is already moving fast,” Marek says reasonably. “We only have one shot, and we need to get this right.”
Kazia wants to scream. It’s moving fast for Marek and everyone else in this room. Except for Kazia, who’s waited far too long. He would be willing to wait four more days, if not for that fucking book.
“What changed, your Highness?” Whisper asks.
