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The court sees Dante as a mere archivist who’s bedding the prince; they don’t think he’s anyone special once removed from Cyrus. I always thought it was a pity—but maybe this is what Dante wants. Or it’s the best he made of an irritating situation. I know the value of being underestimated.
With my wound cleaned, Dante applies a honey-soaked gauze and winds a bandage tightly around my hand. I’mcareful not to let my fingers graze his palm in respect to his privacy. When he’s done, I sag against his knee. I’m exhausted, the dizziness having become a headache.
I’ve missed his company. I’ve missed having someone to talk to who wasn’t worrying about crowns and alliances and dutiful Seers. But I guess he can’t be that anymore.
“My vision said that Raya brought the beasts here,” I say without preamble.
For a long moment there’s only the crackle of the fireplace as Dante goes very, very still. Eyes shutting heavily, he drags a hand down his face, the furrow in his brow deep enough to pinch a nail in place. If he were any more stressed, he’d just be one large wrinkle.
“Please tell me you’re joking,” he says.
“It’s possible I’m caught in some divine machinations and a god—well, someonelikea god—is manipulating me, in which case we have an entirelydifferentproblem on our hands.” I take a deep breath, and Dante wilts further the more I keep talking. “But if they aren’t, then the prophecy can’t be stopped. And out of everything wecando, finding out if the lady about to live in our palace is lying seems like the easiest task to cross off, so…are you able to find out if this accusation is true?”
Dante looked so tired when I woke up. He looks five years older now. Nudging me off his knee, he slides his whole body down onto the rug, limbs splayed in limp defeat. “This room is soundproof?”
“Are you going to scream?”
“Should I do it into a pillow?”
“You can just go ahead.”
He does. I wince through it.
“Tell me everything you know,” he says, hoarse, “and then I need to check in on Raya so I can ensure we don’t have an international incident.”
“I’ve been dreaming about beasts overtaking the borderlands, corrupted forests—signs of the bad to come, but nothing about how to stop it.” I move to sit beside him, pulling down a cushion from the sofa to use as a seat. “When I cut my hand, I called on a voice that spoke to me once before. I thought they were a Fate, but they seem to be working alone. I don’t know their stake in Cyrus’s curse, but they know things about the future. The first time we spoke, they told me the same rhyme that Cyrus heard from the Balican Seer. If this voiceistelling the truth, they also elaborated on Felicita’s prophecy. They added words. They said,‘The blood-soaked earth, the rose-horned beasts, the endlesswar.’ ”
Dante sticks his hand in the air, counting off. “We have the beasts, and we can check off the other two in one go if Auveny thinks Raya was sent by Balica to kill us all.” He flings his arms out. “I can see it already: His Majesty and his Council decry Balica’s Fairywood protections—accuse them of protecting it all this time for some sinister reason instead of basic conservation. Balica isalreadymad King Emilius has ordered burnings again. They’ll be indignant in the face of false accusations.”
“What can Balica do? They’re not equipped for war.”
He hesitates. “At some point, you have to stand your ground, damn the consequences. If it were up to me, between a quick death through war or slow death from empire, I’d go down fighting.”
Hearing that aloud, a lump grows in my throat.
“On the other hand, what a waste of this handsome face that’d be.” Dante quirks his lips and I smile a little.
“Toady hell, what will I tell the king about Raya, though?”
“Nothing. Balica needs to be the one to collect her.”
“So I should pretend everything’s fine?”
“It’d buy some time.” He sits up, hand scrubbing through his loosened hair. “We need evidence that what you’ve been told is true. And then we need to make sure that evidence gets in the right hands, without the Council or those zealous gossips twisting this for their ends.”
“Bring her to me, if you can. I’ll read her threads.” Raya might be trying to avoid me, but we can drag her here if we have to.
“I don’t want to involve you more than necessary.”
I snort. “I’d say the same thing about you.”
Dante remains decidedly sober, a grimace flexing his mouth. “Violet…I’ve kept information about this situation extremely close thus far. It’s not personal, but as long as you obey King Emilius without hesitation, I will doubt your intentions. He could use Raya’s betrayal to send armies marching south before the week is over, and I can’t risk that.”
My grin fades. Of course. I’ve loudly proclaimed I have my own interests at heart first. And Dante must know that I helped the king arrange Cyrus’s match with Raya. “I do not justobeyKing Emilius,” I still say, a paltry defense for myself. “He’s the king. What am I supposed to do?”
“You’ll obey Cyrus without question oncehewears thecrown?”
I press my lips together. “That’s not the same. King Emilius’s reign will end soon. I only have to endure a little longer.” I spent my adolescence learning as much as I could, clawing for scraps of influence. No disagreement was worth stirring his wrath while I was trying to master my place in court. “King Emiliusexpectsmy obedience. I made sure that Cyrusdoesn’t.”
