Once Khoda and Yula had left, the prince waited until they were sure to be well on their way out, then turned to Fie and asked, “What are your thoughts on breaking into the royal quarters?”
She choked on her panbread. He pounded her on the back and shoved water her way, and eventually she coughed out, “What?”
“Breaking into the royal quarters,” Jasimir repeated, as if he’d merely proposed a walk around the Midday Pavilion. “You and me. We know Rhusana’s hiding something. Maybe we can find some clue about what it is. Why are you looking at me like that?”
“What happened to Prince”—Fie fluttered her hands, warbled her voice, and mummed dewy-eyed dismay—“‘Oh no we can’t, it’s the la-a-a-w!’”
“First of all, ‘we can’t, it’s the law’ is not the wildly unreasonable statement you’re pretending it is,” Jasimir said peevishly. “Second, you know what happened, you were there for most of it. Do you want to do it or not?”
“I want to knowhow,” Fie said.
Jasimir picked up a cat harness and gave it a shake. One of the catsraced over, a handsome silver fellow with darker spots. “Good Patpat,” the prince hummed, and picked up the cat.
“Patpat?”
Jasimir scowled at Fie. “He pats you when he wants attention. Look, I had to come up with a lot of names at once. Point is”—he started feeding Patpat’s forepaws into the harness, a curious little canvas-and-leather vest—“Patpat’s a mouser. And he’squiet. Rhusana leaves food everywhere in the royal quarters. When I left in Pigeon Moon, the mice problem was so bad, they’d already had to triple the number of summons to the pest control office. The guard will be on high alert and reading castes at every entrance, but you can sneak us in with a Sparrow witch-tooth, and no one will ask questions if we’re already inside.”
Fie nodded thoughtfully. “We can let the cat run around, go where we please, and if the tooth burns out, we’ll just say we’re looking for Patpat.”
“Exactly.”
“Khoda will hate that we didn’t run this by him,” Fie said.
Jasimir nodded. “Correct.”
“But I can wear the deputy cat-master badge.”
“Correct.”
Fie considered a moment. “So we should definitely break into the royal quarters, is what I’m hearing.”
Jasimir grinned at her. “Correct.”
“We ought to have a talk about your security,” Fie whispered to the prince a half hour later, as they crept into King Surimir’s personal study and closed the door.
Jasimir looked about the room, hands planted on his hips. “They’redoing their best. Besides, if you weren’t here, I’d need a sophisticated team of specialists to replace you—a Sparrow witch, a Peacock witch, a Vulture witch… A little over their paygrade.” He walked over to the desk and pulled a drawer open. “It’s all been cleaned out.”
Fie squinted at the empty shelves, running a finger along the gaps. Enough dust to account for a few weeks’ absence, and no more. The queen’s official study had been dustier, with only a few scattered quills and scrolls to ratify the illusion that she used it.
But… “She wouldn’t win over the Oleander Gentry with empty words. And if they only cared for her powers, they’d have turned once her hair collection went up in smoke. There has to be more, something on paper, that theyonlyget once she’s crowned. Where haven’t we looked?”
Jasimir sighed. “Almost everywhere. There’s the library, the bathing chambers, the parlors, the bedrooms—”
Fie perked up. “She made your mother’s bedroom into a nightmare den. Why not yours, too?”
“Eugh.” Jasimir’s lip curled. “You may be right. There’s a small study attached. Nobody would think to look there.”
Fie called up the Sparrow witch-tooth again, and they edged out the door with their arms linked so as not to lose each other while unseen. Jasimir pulled Fie down the hall, pausing until a patrol of Hawks went past, then guided her up a narrow, unadorned flight of stairs she reckoned the servants used. It took them to a much finer hallway, where the prince slowly pushed open the first door on the right. The room was a midmorning sort of dim, the curtains drawn against the heat to come. Fie was tugged inside. She pulled the door shut behind her.
When Fie let the Sparrow witch-tooth go again, she found Jasimir utterly sucker-punched. One look at the room told her why.
The walls had been painted in soft swirls of silver, white, and gold,the bed much smaller than would fit Jasimir now. Toys were scattered all about the floor, wooden soldiers with the points sanded down, fluffy plush birds, a carved horse on wheels. It was a room for a young child, not an almost-king.
It was Rhusomir’s room now. And from the way Jasimir was searching the corners, every last trace of him had been painted over.
“Jas.” Fie elbowed him. “There’s a better room waiting for you. I’ve seen it. It’s got so much gold it’s foul.”
“That room is yours by right, not mine,” Jasimir said grimly, and headed for the door on the other side of the room. “I was saving a bottle of wine in here. She better not have touched it.”
