‘We must. We can’t give Siegfried the chance to mount a defence until we’re ready.’ He brushes his fingers against the back of my hand. ‘I’m sorry, cousin. But Lucien was right. Your duty is to Atratys. There’s more at stake here than the life of just one person.’
Aron is right too, I suppose. But it’s not what I want to hear. ‘I bid you goodnight then, cousin.’ I go into my room and shut the door behind me before Aron can see the tears that are threatening to spill down my cheeks.
All the next day I wait for news from Merl, wait for the evidence that will allow us to move against Siegfried. But now the sun is dropping towards the horizon, and nothing has come.
‘Aderyn, will you please stop pacing! You’re going to wear a hole in the carpet. And you’re making me anxious.’
I sit down, trying to appease Letya, but within moments I’m on my feet again. I go to the windows and throw them open. I suppose it’s cold outside, because my companion clicks her tongue and starts to drag a blanket from the back of the sofa to wrap around her shoulders.
There’s a knock at the door – a messenger from Aron. My hands are shaking; Letya breaks the seal on the letter and reads it.
‘Well?
‘Still nothing from Merl. I’m sorry.’
‘And the trial?’
‘Tonight. At the sixteenth hour.’
As my cousin predicted.
Letya is watching me closely. The mingling of grief and pity in her eyes is like a whip to my back.
‘He’s not dead yet, Letya.’
‘Aderyn … You need to think clearly. What would Lucien say, if he were here?’
I grit my teeth and kick over a small table. ‘I know what he would say. I know that I’m supposed to do nothing. To let him die in agony –’
I gasp, unable to continue.
Letya picks up the little table and the dish of candied walnuts that was sitting on it. Then she pulls on her gloves and takes one of my hands carefully in hers, drawing me towards the sofa. ‘Sit down, Ryn.’ A nickname, from when we were younger. I’ve not heard Letya use it for years. ‘I’ll ring for one of the housemaids to bring some chocolate.’
‘No – I don’t want anything.’
‘But you didn’t have lunch either.’
‘Honestly, Letya, I’m not hungry.’ The yellow dress that my friend’s been working on is on the sofa between us. It’s nearly finished now; she’s been embroidering it with tiny blue skybells for most of this afternoon. ‘How old is your niece?’
‘Just turned two. I hope I’ve made this big enough; my brother says she’s growing fast.’ She begins to talk about dressmaking and fabrics, trying to diffuse the tension, to distract me – and herself – from what is happening in the Citadel. From what is going to happen to Lucien. My heart swells as I listen to her.
‘I want you to go home.’ I sigh and rub my eyes, itchy from lack of sleep. ‘Not want … I need you to go home.’
Letya shakes her head. ‘I’m not going anywhere, Aderyn. Not without you.’
‘You have to. Don’t you understand? Siegfried already has Lucien. I can’t risk him taking you too.’
‘He won’t.’ She waves a hand, dismissive. ‘You treat me like an equal, but in the eyes of the world – in the eyes of someone like Siegfried – I’m a flightless servant. Nothing more. It won’t occur to him that I have any value.’
‘That’s not true. He must know how important you are to me. Please – I want you to leave. Today. Take Henga and Vasta and get away from here. Head for Chantry, on the far side of the fjord. If Aron and I succeed, I’ll send for you.’
‘But … I can’t leave you here alone.’
‘You have to.’ I search for the words to convince her. ‘You know I love you. If I were to lose you as well as Lucien …’ I dash away a tear with the back of my hand, ‘it would destroy me. But if I know you’re safe, then I’ll be able to do what I need to do. I’ll be able to wait for the evidence from Merl. I’ll be able to wait out whatever happens to Lucien.’
Letya is silent, tugging on one of the stray strands of yellow wool.
‘Please, tell me you understand …?’
Her eyes are glassy with unshed tears. But eventually she nods. ‘When must I go?’
‘After supper – as soon as it’s dark. That will give you time to gather whatever clothes you think you can carry with you.’
As Letya begins packing up her knitting, I go to my bedroom and get out the red dress that Siegfried sent me. My father’s letters are here, sewn into the lining by Letya. It gives me pleasure to rip the fabric open and retrieve them. I ask Letya to take them to Aron before she goes to pack, and throw the dress onto the fire.
She leaves, and I go back to pacing.
Time hurries on – no word from Merl, or from Aron – and the hour arrives. Letya and I have had supper together, and I’ve forced down enough food to satisfy her. Now she’s adjusting the strap of the small bag she has slung across her body.
‘I’ve written you out a pass; the gates will be shut by now.’
‘Thank you.’ She tucks the letter into her pocket. ‘Though I’m not planning to go out through one of the main gates. There’s a small door round by the kitchen gardens that leads into the town. I’m friends with the doorkeeper.’
I’ve already pulled on a pair of gloves, so I grip her hands in mine. ‘Oh, Letya …’
‘We’ll see each other again soon. The news you’re waiting for from Merl will arrive, and you and Prince Aron will put an end to this.’ She sniffs. ‘If you see Lord Lucien again, tell him I wish him well.’
I nod. I can’t say Lucien’s name, can’t even think about him, without a sharp stab of fear in my chest. ‘May I kiss you goodbye?’
‘Of course.’
I lean forward and brush Letya’s cheek fleetingly with my lips. ‘Stay safe, my friend. My sister.’
She leaves. And I am truly alone.
The clock on the mantlepiece chimes, reminding me that I have little time to grieve what I’ve lost. I’m about to risk myself, but at least my Letya should be safe.
In the bedroom, I go to the chest of drawers containing my jewels and other ornaments. My mother’s sword is in here, together with the sword belt. But there’s also her dagger. I take it out of the velvet bag in which it was brought from Merl – I’ve had no reason to use it or wear it, so far – and test the edge.
Still sharp.
Lucien’s trial is due to start in three hours. I wait out one more of those hours in my apartment, hoping to give Letya time to get well clear of the Citadel. Then I slip the dagger into the pocket of my dress and make my way to Siegfried’s rooms.
The main staircases and public rooms of the palace are busy. Despite the deep mourning, despite the late hour, the court is bustling with gossip about Lucien’s arrest and the king’s death. As I pass, people break off their conversations and gawk, before returning to their whispering with renewed energy. I lift my chin, give back stare for stare. Lucien’s words run through my mind: Remember, the most important thing here is not your future; it’s that of Atratys.