No one speaks, but I see flutters in the crowd as people trade glances. The margrave is not known for being retiring, but to be so hasty on his wedding day? I can see the calculations: There will be an heir before year’s end.
I want to scream at them that there will be no heir at all.
“Do you swear, my lady, swear to keep your marriage with honor and trust, to be faithful and true, until death do you part?”
“I do.” Gisele’s steadied her voice.
That’s the first signal.
A hairpin falls into my palm.
“And do you swear, my lord, to keep your marriage with honor and trust, to be faithful and true, until death—”
“I do,” Adalbrecht interrupts again. This time there are titters in the throngs clustered around the plaza.
Joniza’s doing a remarkable job as officiant for someone who was ordained as a temporary delegate of Fortune overnight, but I’d be shocked if she’s not rolling her eyes this very moment.
She waits until the laughter dies down and then continues, glancing briefly up to me. It seems like Adalbrecht’s composed himself now, but he still seems impatient, even from this distance. Joniza’s doing her best to strike a balance. We timed this yesterday, working through how long she’d have to drag out the rest of the vows while my pin worked away at these manacles, how much wiggle room I had. (Not much.)
Sure enough, I feel the latching mechanism slide open just as Joniza declares, “In the name of the High Gods and the Low, by the laws mortal and divine, I proclaim you wed. You may kiss—”
Gisele is the one to move a little too fast this time. She all but leaps into Adalbrecht’s arms.
Well, not quite.
We’ll come back to that. Because right then, the hangman pulls the lever for the trapdoor. It drops open into the gaping, bristling mouth of the barrel, the jaws of a monstrous wolf.
But the only thing that falls into it are the manacles.
I’ve wrapped my hands above the noose knot, keeping my weight from pulling it tight even as my feet dangle over the gap.
If this were a normal hanging, this would be a short fall and I would already be dead. But becausesomebodywasn’t happy with a garden-variety execution, the rope had to be long enough for me to pass into the barrel below the platform. And that, friend,thatbought me enough time to seize it and hold on for dear life.
Maybe after today Adalbrecht will realize that every time he gives me room for error, I’m going to use it.
You may be wondering what the long game is here, though. And that’s a valid question! I’m still dangling over a barrel full of nails, and my upper-arm strength really isn’t where I’d like it to be, which is “enough to hold this rope indefinitely.”
The answer is the arm around my waist, pulling me back onto the platform. A blur of steel slices through the rope.
“So that’s what the steel one’s for,” I wheeze, pulling off the noose as I turn to face Emeric.
“They’re knives, Vanja, they’re all good against ropes.” He wraps both arms around me, and I think we’ve reached an unspoken agreement to pretend neither of us is shaking with relief. Even in a stolen guard’s uniform, he smells like juniper. I wish I could chalk it up to a mysterious boy power, but I know precisely why.
`
And Iknowyou’re wondering how we pulled this one off.
Fine, since you’ve been so patient, I’ll tell you just this once.
Let’s wind back the clock to a little over a day ago, still in Emeric’s room. Joniza, Gisele, and Ragne had just given the performance of their lives. They were waiting in my bedroom to see if the gambit paid off, and meanwhile I was busy weeping like a girl whose kitten just got carried off by a hawk before her eyes. (Oddly specific imagery, I know. I saw alotof grim things in Sovabin.)
And the tears certainly weren’t all fake. I was terrified this wouldn’t work, terrified I was wrong, terrified I’d lose Emeric. I’d written as much to Gisele in the message-mirror Ragne brought her:Everything I tell you about Emeric will be true. Everything I tell you about how to fix it will be a lie. Trust me. Refuse to help.
Everything I’d traced into his palm was true. I needed him to stay.
Then I made myself go quiet and still, deepen my breath, nearly nod off. And a few minutes later, I heard a rustle as themahrcrept from Emeric’s ear.
Adalbrecht had kept touching it to give it orders. Knowing that rat bastard, he’d want to hear exactly what we were planning, so I’d fed themahra juicy tale to report.
