CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO Sev 
I grabbed a sword from a soldier’s scabbard as I passed him, ignoring his cry of outrage. Then I pushed my way toward the center of the crowd.
“What is going on here?” I shouted.
At first there was no response, so I raised the sword in the air and shouted again. “I am Prince Severin of Ruzi, commander of the armies of the Flame of the West. I ask you, What is going on here?”
At this they took notice. Though the crowd did not quiet, the scrum broke apart to reveal a Seratese man crumpled on the ground, his arms held protectively over his head. I ran to his side. He didn’t appear to be seriously injured, though his cheek was already swelling where they must have hit him.
I looked up into angry faces. “Who did this? Must I conclude that you attacked him for sport?”
“A curse upon the Seratese!” someone shouted, and jeers rose from the back of the crowd.
“You have no reason to believe this man has ill intent!” I cried. “He is a man of Zefed!”
Another shout carried through the air. “A curse upon the traitor prince!”
Something flew through the air at me, and I turned instinctively, catching it with the edge of my sword. The projectile, a glass bottle, broke against the blade and fell, shattering on the ground.
“Curse the traitor prince!” The cry came again, and this time, it was echoed. The cry became a chant, growing in strength as the people raised their voices and their fists. I was abruptly aware that I was one person standing alone against this crowd. Where was Faris? The army?
“Get up!” I said to the Seratese man. “Quickly!”
The man struggled to his knees. I put my free arm under his shoulder, hoisting him to his feet. Then I raised my sword. “Make way!” I roared.
I forced my way back through the crowd, supporting the man at my side. Something slimy hit the back of my collar, but I could not stop moving. These people were lost to reason—if we hesitated, we might not get out at all.
The carriage waited in the distance, with the military guard in front of it, their swords drawn. We stumbled up to the guard, which parted to let us through. I boosted the man into the carriage and climbed up after him. Then I turned to look behind us. The crowd had tripled in size, at least, and I could hear nothing but a sea of shouts as they advanced on us.
Another bottle broke against the side of the carriage, and Lord Annick ducked as something flew near his head. Nothing good would come of this.
“To the palace!” I shouted. The military guard formed ranks around us, and together we fled before the wave of fury coming after us.
Outside the carriage was a cacophony of anger. Inside, we were silent. Erris, Lord Annick, and King Idai sat on the seat opposite us. The Seratese man was sprawled on the seat between Faris and me.
“Are you all right?” I said to the man.
The look he gave me was one of fear, and suddenly it hit me—I might have saved him from the mob, but to him I was still Prince Severin, the hand of the emperor. And we were in the emperor’s carriage, heading for the emperor’s palace…
“I want to help you. Do you need an escort somewhere?”
His gaze darted about the carriage—he was clearly making note of the people he was riding with. “I—”
“Leave him be, Severin,” Faris said, her eyes on the road behind us. “You’ve done enough.”
But I could not have left the man to be beaten, or worse. And in this moment it didn’t matter to me who heard what I said. “Whether or not the war is just, the emperor’s vendetta is not grounds for attacking his own people,” I said hotly.
She looked as though she wanted to snap back at me, but then the carriage went over a bump in the road, and she fell forward, out of her seat. I grabbed her arm and pulled her upright. Her skin was feverishly hot to the touch, and her eyes unfocused.
“Faris?”
She didn’t respond.
“What’s happening to her?” Erris cried.
“She’s sick,” I said, hailing the driver. She needed a healer, as soon as possible.
Idai’s mouth was a thin line as they watched the mob following us. “The emperor’s wrath will be vast,” they said, too quietly for any to hear but me.
That was what I was afraid of.
We arrived at the palace at a run, pursued by shouts and the sound of breaking glass. When we stopped for the gates to open, the Seratese man unlatched the carriage door and jumped down to the street, then darted away before I could intervene. Then we were through, into the courtyard as the gates slammed shut behind us.
The guards called for healers, who were on the scene almost immediately, whisking Faris away and leaving the rest of us behind. I stared at the gates as Erris and Lord Annick ran for the palace. What would happen if the mob broke through?
Idai grabbed my arm. “You need to go,” they said. “You have to be as far from this as possible when the emperor hears.”
They were right. I ran.
I had been the match, but the tinder had been ready and waiting. What would Rafael do in response? What should I do?
I found myself in an empty hallway and leaned back against the stone, trying to tame my racing thoughts. Irrad was becoming more unstable, and I was certain the emperor would only escalate the violence. And the further he was pushed, the more likely he was to break. I could not wait for a rescue—I had to get out as soon as possible.
It was just after midday now—an excuse to visit the great hall. I had to find the lord from Oskiath.
I entered the hall and picked up a plate. I was the furthest thing from hungry, but the longer I lingered over food, the likelier it was that I would see her.
There—across the hall. She was several tables away, but the hall was well occupied despite the disturbance outside. I would have to sit near someone—why shouldn’t it be her?
I set down my plate and took a seat.
“The emperor’s high commander should not sit with a lowly lord,” she said so quietly, it was barely audible.
“You know I am no commander,” I whispered.
“I have a message for you, then. From a friend in a high place.”
“Yes?”
“She says that they will wait no longer. They will visit us soon.”
Rowena… sending her army to march on Irrad? I was confused, but there was no time to ask about that—we could be interrupted at any time.
“I need them to get me out of here now—before the army leaves,” I said urgently. “With two passengers.”
“Passengers?” she replied, surprised.
I glanced around. No one appeared to be listening to us. “The wife of our leader, and her son.”
The lord’s face went almost white. “Absolutely not. Your friend cannot risk herself for so little.”
It was the response I had expected. “She still needs a beast keeper. If you take us, you will have Neve’s services at your disposal.”
The lord stood from the table, making a show of gathering up her cloak. “You are certain?”
As certain as I could be. I nodded.
“I will pass this on. You will know the answer.”
“Soon,” I said.
“Soon,” she agreed. She slipped a folded sheet of paper underneath her plate. Then she was gone.
I pushed food around on my plate for a few minutes longer to keep up appearances. Then I palmed the paper from under the plate and hid it in my pocket. Rising, I retreated to my chambers as quickly as I could.
The paper held an encoded message from Rowena. I decoded it quickly and read.
We ride for Irrad. Expect to meet up with your friend and the little one at the border. For the future.
I was relieved, and then puzzled. Maren had made no mention of returning to Rowena, so why would Rowena be speaking of Maren? At least the Dragons were coming. And if they had finally committed to riding to war, then they were more likely to accept my proposal. Perhaps this would work after all.