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I chuckle and glance over at Benedikt, who’s come up behind me. Always a fan of luxury, he’s gone with a gold-plated helm that I can’t imagine any actual warrior wearing into battle, and his striped jacket is as much gold as red as well.
I can’t say the look doesn’t suit him.
“I don’t think they’d appreciate me changing the course of history,” I retort.
“Oh, I don’t think anyone could fail to appreciate you once they witnessed those impressive skills.” He pauses. “I saw you surveying the crowd earlier. You’ve been making the rounds with Casimir and Alek?”
There’s a hint of tension in his voice that I know I’m not imagining, because Julita picks up on it too.Why is he asking? Who else would he expect you to spend your time with?
“We bumped into each other early on,” I say. “You could have joined us.”
“Oh, I was having plenty of fun with my dormmates. It was just a little odd—when I showed up for the meeting yesterday, it almost felt as if you all had been discussing things for quite a while already.”
A prickle of apprehension runs down my back. “Just a little small talk while we waited for you to show up.”
Benedikt’s hum sounds skeptical. “You were awfully vague about that last trial our ‘friends’ put you through.”
I didn’t mention my actual last trial in front of him at all, only the one from the night before. But he doesn’t know that.
I force my tone to stay dry. “They aren’t exactly pleasant memories. I don’t see how they’re all that useful beyond the little bits of information I’ve been able to pick up.”
“True, true. Our conspirators do have an interesting way of seeing the world, don’t they?”
Again, his tone niggles at me—and not just me.
What’s he getting at?Julita murmurs.
I shake my head ruefully. “If by ‘interesting’ you mean absolutely horrifying, then yes. Oh!”
I’ve just caught sight of Ster. Torstem, his embroidered stags glinting in the lantern-light that’s glowing through the falling dusk. The stout man is shouldering through the crowd… directly toward the procession that includes the royal family.
Julita’s voice sharpens.And what isheaiming for?
I’d better find out. Of course the law professor would approach the king while Stavros is occupied.
Benedikt follows my gaze. His tone turns bitter as it drops even lower. “Yes, let us all fawn before the great King Konram.”
He’s obviously in a sour mood in general.
“Maybe I’ll cross paths with you later,” I tell him hurriedly, and set off after Torstem.
The royal procession has come to a stop by a booth offering mulled wine, just beyond the houndsman’s tent. Ster. Torstem sidles closer to them and dips his hand into his pocket.
Whatishe up to? He definitely doesn’t look as if he has any legitimate reason to catch the king’s attention.
And who knows if his illicit sorcery will allow him to launch some kind of surreptitious attack right through the host of guards around the royals?
We have to stop him, Julita frets.But if he realizes you interfered, it’ll ruin all the progress you’ve made with his sycophants.
I grit my teeth, my gaze searching the crowd. How can I alert the guards to a potential threat when he doesn’t look threatening at all—and without Torstem realizing I’m doing the alerting?
My magic lurches to the ready with a smack against my ribs, but I shove it right back down with a clench of my jaw. It’s hurt enough people in the past few days.
My attention settles on the nearby tent. Maybe I simply need to provide a different “threat” to disrupt the guards’ current complacency.
I slip around the back of the tent, drawing my new knife. No time like the present to break it in.
Listening carefully to make sure there’s no one near that corner of the structure, I slit the ties holding two folds of fabric in place. Then I duck down and lean inside just long enough to sever the ropes securing a few of the larger hounds to their post.
