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But Toren stared at her with steady understanding. “You’re hoping you can use him.”
Use him? She flushed, then flushed harder at what her reddened face must reveal. The king’s lips quirked upward, but he was kind enough not to comment.
“I need evidence,” Tes said quickly. “If I can get a sense of Ber’s true intent, I’ll have a better idea how reliable his account was in that journal. He had a list of both friends and foes that was similar to my own experiences at court, but I’ve been gone for a year. I would like current but credible information before I approach any possible allies.”
“Understood,” Toren replied. “I’ve had my own spies checking for the same, so that will provide some corroboration.”
Ria twisted around enough to frown at Tes. “Do you really have to go there?”
In that moment, the concern on Ria’s face was almost too surreal.How could she possibly care so much?It was clear that she did, but Tes’s heart took a few extra beats to believe.Riaismy friend,Tes reassured herself.
And friends deserved at least an attempt at comfort.
“I understand your concern, and I appreciate it. I give my word to be careful,” Tes said. “But if my husband intends to ambush me, I need to find out sooner rather than later. Otherwise, I’ll spend every moment awaiting the blow.”
Though Ria bent back over her sewing, her words were clear enough. “He could always strike later.”
Tes picked at a loose thread on her skirt, then smoothed it down before her friend could see and insist on fixing it. “That’s true, but it would be less likely. Me arriving alone when no one else knows I’m alive? If he wants me dead, that would be the best time to try it.”
“You should train extra with Mehl before you go, so long as it doesn’t tire you,” Ria said.
“I might.” Practice would be good, but Tes had to ensure her energy replenished so she could teleport without worry. “In anycase, if Ber truly does want to form an alliance, I would rather plan in person than try to relay every word through Toren. That would be an annoyance we’d all rather be spared. Toren most of all, I’m sure.”
The High King laughed. “I appreciate your consideration. But in the meantime, what do you wish for me to tell him?”
“I’ll teleport into my old dressing room four days hence.” Gods, she wasn’t looking forward to returning there to all the bad memories. “He is staying in his chamber from before we wed, so there’s no reason for anyone to be near my abandoned suite. He should be able to sneak in readily enough. And please tell him that I give my word not to attack him unless he should attempt to harm me first.”
“Very well,” Toren agreed. “I’ll contact him when I’ve finished with my work for the day.”
Unexpected nerves bubbled in Tes’s blood. In a little less than four days, she would return to Centoi and hide out to observe her husband. Then she would confront him at the appointed time and deal with his response as she must. But what would she find? The expectation burned brighter than she’d anticipated.
She’d thought three full days to regain her energy and enjoy some time with Speran would be welcome—and it was. But suddenly, she had a feeling that the waiting would be akin to torture.
It waslate afternoon before Ber managed enough time to himself to slip away from the palace. He’d returned to his room after his training session, bathed, and settled into his sitting room with a book while the servants cleaned up his discardedclothes. Then after waiting an adequate time to ensure none would return, he’d ducked into the secret passages and made his way to the stash of disguises he’d tucked away in a forgotten storage room.
Now, he sat in his favorite tavern at one of the central tables and sipped at a tankard of ale while munching periodically on a loaf of soft, hearty bread. None of the people wandering in as evening approached gave him a second glance. He’d used a potion to color his hair a light red-gold, and he’d pulled it back into the type of careless braid worn by many artisans during working hours. His modest clothes were an older style and truly worn—he’d bought them in the market nearly a decade ago.
The other patrons no doubt assumed he was having a light meal before returning to his shop, or perhaps settling in for an evening of drinking after a hard day’s work. Some might have even recognized him. Ber wasn’t exactly a regular, but he made a point of coming here a few times a year and had done so for nearly a century. He could sit here in peace and listen to the conversations that swirled around him as people came and went.
A pair of bards took a spot at the table directly behind him—an unexpected boon. In Ber’s experience, no group enjoyed gossip as much as the bards, and it was for good reason. Their livelihoods depended on their ability to know things. Popular songs, the best-paying Houses, unsafe locations. If there was anything worth hearing, they’d be most likely to deliver it.
Ber waited patiently as they ordered their preferred drinks and food. Then there was a bit of casual chatter, inconsequential to his purposes. He let his attention drift enough to take in the murmurs from the table across from him, but there was nothing of value there, either. But as the bards began a lengthy diatribe about the current cost of lute strings, Ber glanced with annoyance at the darkening sky beyond the window. He couldn’t remain much longer.
Perhaps their arrival hadn’t been a boon, after all.
Just as he was about to slide his tankard aside and stand, the tone of the voices behind him changed, slipping low. “Did you hear about Kestreh?” the man asked.
The other bard, a woman, let out a whimper. “She’ll be at the healing house for a week after what that dignitary did to her. My father suggested I pick up extra coin by working…there…but I imagine this latest incident will shut him up.”
A chill shot through Ber, and his fingers convulsed briefly around the handle of his tankard.That dignitary.The man he’d wanted to trail in the garden must have caused trouble last night. If Ber hadn’t given up so easily to save himself a little suspicion from the king, the unfortunate Kestreh wouldn’t have been abused.
Gods forgive me.
“Something has to be done,” the male bard muttered. “If there weren’t so many hungry and desperate, no one would volunteer to gothereat all. Even so, this kind of abuse is intolerable. It’s clear all these guards everywhere might be watching, but it isn’t for our safety. Doubly so there.”
The woman hissed. “Careful with your words.”
One of the artisans a few seats to Ber’s left glanced over her shoulder at the pair. “He’s right. Things have gotten worse since our princess disappeared.”
