44

DIRA LED US OUT OF THE ARCHIVE. “DO NOT CONCERN YOURSELF,” she said. “This, too, was planned well—the library lacks the proper… facilities for what many patrons partake of at the Warren, so they will be scattering to finer inns and bathhouses with their hirelings.” She glanced at Sianh. “Am I not correct?”

“Quite right,” he said, clipped. He kept a hand on his hip as we walked down the wide avenue in front of the library—over a hidden knife, I knew.

“And here is your transportation,” Dira said. “Mine is waiting elsewhere.” She nodded to me, a slight but deliberate gesture of farewell, the most I was going to get from her.

Kristos waited with a hired surrey. “Against my better judgment,” Kristos said as we settled next to him, out of earshot of the driver, “I had Dira tell him where to meet us. I figured you would need to see him. Would insist on it. I didn’t feel like picking you up kicking and screaming the way Mother did that one time at the fruit seller’s.”

“Honestly, you’re bringing that up now?” I shook my head.

“Seemed appropriate.” Kristos shrugged. “Now. Silence is better until we reach our destination. Streets have ears.”

We had approached the outskirts of the city by now, and the first faint gray light of morning was shading the horizon. Kristos led us to a low building—a stables, I saw, or, rather, smelled. The honest scent of horses and leather and manure was oddly reassuring in its familiarity.

And inside, between a few stalls and sitting on a disintegrating bale of hay, Theodor waited for me.

“Sophie!” He caught me in his arms. Kristos and Sianh both turned away, whether embarrassed or honoring some intuited need for privacy, I couldn’t say. “I was so worried—I can’t even begin to explain.”

I nodded, my face pressed into his coat. My cheek was damp with sweat and the fine wool fibers stuck to it. “I didn’t want to leave you.”

“I know.” He stroked my hair, an increasingly tangled mess of dark curls under the Serafan wrap. “We’re together now. I won’t leave your side.”

“But what now?”

“What we already intended. We return to Galitha. Somehow. Merhaven—that bastard left us stranded here. The Gyrfalcon left port, most likely with my brother along under some well-placed lies, and he’s not one to disobey orders without good reason.” Theodor began to plan, out loud, fairly ignoring Kristos and Sianh as though they were of no more import than the horses. “We’ll return to Galitha by sea, to Galitha City, and shore up our support.”

Kristos held up his hand. “Hold on, Niko has been fighting in the city already.”

“Niko! Niko Otni?” Theodor started.

“One and the same,” Kristos said with a lopsided grin. “He’s kept the home fires burning, so to speak, so that if anything went awry with your attempt at peaceful reform, the people would be ready again, and quickly.”

“How long have you been laying your plans?” Theodor snapped.

“Clearly it was a wise choice,” Kristos returned fire.

“Enough,” I said. “Niko did what he could to keep the people mollified, waiting on reform. He didn’t undermine us. Right?” I said with a pointed look at my brother.

“Precisely correct. He didn’t believe reform could happen, but he waited to try it your way. He doesn’t want bloodshed; he just recognizes it’s inevitable at this point,” Kristos said.

“Not all of the nobles will be against us,” Theodor mused, pacing between stalls as the horses chewed their alfalfa. “I’m not sure how much of the army we can count on, but surely not all of them will remain loyal to their noble officers. And if we can organize the common people who are willing to fight, we’ll have a large force to work with.”

“You’re forgetting one piece on the board, perhaps the most important one. The king.” Kristos faced Theodor with crossed arms. “Is he for us or against us?”

The question cut through Theodor’s pacing. He sank onto a hay bale next to me, his hands falling into his lap, useless and weary. “He’s against us.”

“And you’ll stand against him?” Kristos raised an eyebrow. “Forgive me, but I want it in no uncertain terms that noble blood doesn’t run so thick that it will choke our efforts.”

“Don’t be a prick, Kristos,” I said, sitting next to Theodor and pulling his hand into mine.

“I’m not. The king’s position changes what we can do. We can’t count on the full army—though mutiny is a very real thing and we can use it to our advantage. Even some of the common people will be reticent to stand against a king—squabbling nobles are one thing, but a king?” He held his hands open as though letting some heavy weight drop.

“But it doesn’t change what we should do,” Theodor countered. “We return to Galitha. My father surrounds himself with nobles he’s familiar with. He’s been convinced that the shortest route to resolve this is to cater to the noble majority. He would believe it is the right thing to do, and the only thing for a new king with little authority save what is in the title itself to do. He would do it for the right reasons, not because he doesn’t care about his people. Perhaps I can convince him otherwise.”

“You’ll end open sedition by the nobility with a chat over tea?” Kristos snorted.

“What am I supposed to do?” Theodor returned. “The nobility are not all a passel of fools like Pommerly and Crestmont.” Theodor slammed his hand against the nearest wall. A horse stared at him reproachfully. “Undoing our work as soon as I was gone.”

“Planning—so it’s not mere stubbornness but most assuredly sedition, then,” Kristos clarified with a snide grin.

“We’re on the same side,” Theodor growled. “I know full well that they’re seditious, that they’re pissing on our laws. We’ll rein them in, we’ll—”

“It’s too late for that,” I said. Both my brother and my betrothed looked at me, surprised, as though they had forgotten I was there. “Theodor, all you’ve thought of is how the nobility is reacting, what is the king going to do—and isn’t that precisely the problem all along? The common people’s stake is barely discussed. But we know that they will fight now. More than the riot during the debates. More than at Midwinter. Something was lawfully given and is being taken away. They’re already fighting.”

“I know.” Theodor’s hands shook in mine. “And they have justice on their side.”

“Indeed,” Kristos said. “And when your father refuses to curtail them, refuses to uphold the laws of his own damn country? He’s had ample chance already.”

Theodor straightened. “Well, that’s the answer, isn’t it? If the king refuses to yield to the law, I must stand against the king.”