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I spin around to find Thena standing behind me, a vessel of wine similarly clutched in her hands.
I hadn’t heard her approach.
Suspicion surges as I retrace every interaction I’ve had with her. Thena is quiet, unassuming, the kind of person who blends into the background.
Could she be…
No, she couldn’t. A spy would be more likely to ingratiate themself with others, to charm and manipulate their way into trust. Despite us sharing a room, she has only ever been distant.
I force a bashful smile. “It’s hard not to stare when he’s so handsome.”
Choke me with poisoned wine.
Thena snorts softly. “If you say so.”
She strides past me, and I adjust the vessel in my arms, then fall into step beside her.
“Speaking of rumors,” I say. “Have you seen Espris lately?”
“No.”
“I haven’t seen her for almost a week. But she never mentioned she was going anywhere.”
Thena turns her head enough to look at me from the corner of her eye. “I’ve been serving at the palace since I was a child, and I’ve seen girls come and go more times than I can count. They think they’re clever, that they can land themselves a low-ranking lord or palace guard. Sometimes they do, and sometimes the palace chews them up and spits them out.”
“You think that’s what happened to Espris?”
She shrugs. “Maybe. Or maybe she got tired of this place and left. Either way, it’s not my concern.”
I hum noncommittally as Master Dimos emerges through the crowd ahead, moving our way. My pulse quickens, anticipation curling in my chest.
I either act now, or never. The courtiers are all well into the festivities and there are only a few matches remaining.
We’re a few steps away when I let my foot catch on the hem of my dress, stumbling forward with a gasp. I bump into him, tilting the vessel so a rush of wine spills out and splashes across my chest.
The master’s hands snap to my arms, steadying me with a sharp intake of breath. “Notos curse you, woman. Go and get yourself cleaned up.”
“I—I’m so sorry, Master Dimos,” I say.
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he says. “Go.”
I nod quickly as I step back, clutching the empty vessel like a shield. The nobles nearby glance over, their expressions ranging from mild amusement to outright disdain.
As I turn to flee, Thena steps into my path. She purses her lips and plucks the empty vessel from my hands.
My face remains a mask of mortification as I hurry from the grand hall, the wine-damp dress clinging uncomfortably to my skin. Only when I’m sure no one is around to witness do I allow myself to smile.
The distant melody of celebration recedes as I close the doors behind me and step farther into the king’s antechamber.
I move through the chamber, peeking into each room in search of the study, until I finally reach the last door. My heart stutters as I test the handle and find it unlocked. With a sigh, I tuck my lockpicks back into my thigh holster, then slip inside.
The study is far less ostentatious than I expected. The wall ahead has a large window framed by heavy drapes, but the rest are lined with towering bookshelves. A heavy desk sits at the room’s heart; parchment is arranged in neat stacks. No grand tapestries or paintings line the walls. The space is rich yet sterile, bearing none of the warmth I’d found in the prince’s chambers.
With the pounding of my heart urging me on, I begin my search—hunting through the desk drawers, rifling through papers, desperate for any sign or clue that could reveal the schemes of the king and the Eagle.
My desperation only deepens with every empty discovery.
I pause in the center of the room, tugging the damp dress away from my chest as I force myself to breathe and think. My gaze drifts to the bookshelves. To the rows upon rows of spines. There are too many of them, and too little time to check them all. I step closer, eyeing the fine layer of dust gathered along the edges of the shelves.
