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One second to kill the messenger, another three to drag his body inside. My bag was packed, and I’d already climbed from the window my first night here to ensure I’d never be trapped.
“Message from Her Majesty,” he said, slowly holding it out.
My heart stopped and then restarted again, pounding double time. How exactly had that bitch found me? I wasn’t even due to cross into Eprotha until three days from now.
I’d found a woman who’d helped me dye my hair the moment I’d left the fae lands, and it was now a dark brown. I kept to myself and had sent no messages except to let Prisca know where I was.
The safest approach would be my first plan. And yet, my hand rose as if on its own, plucked the message from his hand, and left a coin.
My curiosity would always be my downfall.
“Go,” I said.
He went.
Turning, I moved back to the window, watching as he left the boarding house, glancing over his shoulder. No one followed him.
I opened the message.
Madinia,
A clever woman would notice Gromalian forces gathering in the eastern sector of Thobirea.
You always were far too clever for your own good.
No signature, but that wasn’t surprising. Besides, I’d recognize Regner’s queen’s handwriting anywhere.
The question? Was she leading us into a trap?
I’d seen Kaliera commit a number of atrocities over the years. This could be her attempt to regain trust with Regner. He would enjoy sentencing me. And he’d certainly enjoy watching Prisca burn.
My mind provided me with an image of my father’s head hitting the ground. Directly before the rest of his body. I fisted my hand, crumpling the letter.
Before we’d left the camp, Lorian had given us all fae-bred pigeons to ensure we could communicate.
But…Prisca needed to find the hourglass. Tibris wasn’t an option either. He’d left to negotiate with Gromalian rebels, and the last I’d heard, Demos had gone with Prisca. Besides, Demos was an inflexible bastard.
Vicer would be deep in Eprotha by now, attempting to convince the hybrids to travel south to the fae lands. But…he might have people on the ground. If he didn’t, he could probably put a team together.
Scrawling a quick note of my own, I took my pigeon out of her cage. I didn’t understand how the birds knew which of us to travel to, but Lorian had simply told us to clearly state the name of the person we wanted to contact.
“Take this to Vicer,” I said.
CHAPTER TWO
Pain.
Awareness came hand in hand with the pain that exploded behind my closed eyelids. With a strangled gasp, I managed to curl to the side.
“She’s awake.”
“I told you she’d wake up.”
“She could still die. He hit her too hard.”
I barely suppressed the moan that wanted to escape. The air had been stolen from my lungs. My eyes burned, and I sucked in an unsteady breath.
Demos had once told me the first rule of being a prisoner—you cry, and you’re done.
