Cass made quick work of the second’s wrists as Miri pulled a vial from her waist.
He caught her gaze and gave her a look.
“It’s not permanent.”
That was all she said before she pressed a soaked cloth over their noses. Cass’s eyes watered against the fumes, but he dragged the bodies behind a wall of crates. Gods, they’d been in an open alley, in plain view. It was beyond foolish.
Miri tossed the cloak into a bin at the opposite wall of the alley then checked the end of the street. No one had seemed to notice. Or possibly a hundred kingsmen were on their way.
They moved a few crates to block the pile of men, then Miri glanced at Cass. What do we do? her look seemed to say.
“We get through the outer gates. Now.”
“We have to go,” Cass hissed. He’d argued against going back to the inn, but Miri had threatened him with blood. She was impossible and unbearable, and he would not stand for watching her be killed. “The moment they realize their rogue maid is not inside the castle walls—” It would be too late. They would all be done for.
Miri jerked her shift from inside the mattress, glaring up at him. “I know. They’ll close the main gate.”
He glared at the garment in her fisted hand, remembering all the times she’d reached for her hem. “You have to tell me, Miri. If you’re caught, if you end up dead—” He bit down the words but didn’t look away. “There is a sorcerer within these city walls. If we lose you, nothing will stop the remaining queensguard from moving on the kings.” They would attempt a rescue of Lettie and give everything in a final attempt.
He could see Miri understood. She knew it meant they would all die.
“I need to know,” he said quietly. “I need you to tell me.”
Miri’s hands shook. They did not have time for this and needed to escape. The kingsmen had seen Cass. They would be searching for a maid Miri’s size and possibly a man of Cass’s.
He realized his hands were on Miri’s, and he drew back, glaring at the straw mattress.
She shifted nearer and said, her words no more than a whisper, “Why can you not even look at me?” There was hurt in her tone and concern that she’d somehow done everything wrong.
But Cass’s answer slipped angrily free before he could rein it in. “Because I like looking at you.” Expression hard, he forced himself to face her. “And that’s something I shouldn’t.”
Miri did not move. Her entire being had gone terribly still. Her voice was all air when she asked, “Shouldn’t do or shouldn’t like?”
Cass’s fingers curled into fists. “Either.” He snapped the fists open. “Both.” He turned, moving to peer out the window. He hated that he’d said it and that he’d had to move away.
Behind him, Miri said, “I like looking at you too.”
Cass felt his shoulders drop. Of all the things she might have said. “That only makes it worse.”
Miri moved closer. “I’ve never told. Not anyone.”
When Cass turned, her gaze was cast down. He let it stay there and only stood before her, inches separating them as Miri breathed her confession.
“Mother had been reading, and I had fallen asleep. She’d left me there, though I should have been in my rooms, like Lettie. When I woke, Henry was already covered in blood. He was saying something, grabbing at her. His hands were so tight. I remember his knuckles going white, snowdrop pale in the midst of all that rose-red blood. I didn’t even listen. I couldn’t even hear. I only stared.”
Miri’s arms wrapped around her middle, and Cass could almost feel the heat of Henry’s warning.
“The doors crashed open, and men ran in. They were dressed like the guard, but they were not bloodsworn. They didn’t—” She shook her head. “I didn’t recognize a single one. Henry had his sword out. I’d not even seen him draw it. It must have been in his hand already, I thought, but his hands had been on my mother. She was standing, too, then, a dagger in each fist. The silver ones with the lion paws that wrapped around the cross guard. Her favorites. The men rushed her and Henry. And those daggers sank through the men’s chests. They didn’t… no one said a single word. Just stabbed. Fought. Fell.”
Miri was silent for a moment, as if remembering and reliving the nightmare she’d faced as a child. He remembered, too, his own nightmare of the wet sounds of blade entering flesh, the muffled grunts, and heavy bodies as the king’s men and queensguard fell.
“‘Kill her,’” Miri said abruptly, her gaze finally raising to Cass’s. “That was what the head of those guards said when he finally spoke. He pointed at me and said, ‘Kill her,’ to his men.” Miri swallowed. “And my mother went very still. Her daggers came to her side, and she adjusted her grip. My limbs were frozen. It was like I couldn’t act. All I could do was watch. She stepped forward one pace, Henry at her side. She meant to rush the head of that guard. I could feel it. She was going to stab him for what he’d said. Because of me.”
Cass didn’t speak. He did not argue with the idea she’d had as a child. He let Miri go on and let her get it out. It was too late for anything else.
“The men smelled like smoke. The room tasted like wet ash. I didn’t understand what was happening. I didn’t help at all. Henry’s sword swung, but Momma stumbled back. I can still hear the clatter of her daggers on the tile floor. I can still smell… well, I didn’t know it then, but it was burning flesh and treated wood. It was the other levels the sorcerer had set aflame.” Miri drew a breath, her eyes closing to the memories. “I stared down at her. My mother was sprawled half across the floor and half over the chaise where she’d read. Where I had slept. Blood as dark as pitch ran from her nose. As Henry fought the last of the men, I fell to my knees before her, palms pressing her shoulder and chest. ‘Momma,’ I said. That was all. She didn’t let me finish. She seized in pain, her eyes going wide, then she came back, found my face, and took hold of my hand. Her locket was pressed to my palm. She wrapped my fingers around it until I held it firm, then she grabbed my wrist.”
“‘Henry,’ she whispered, but her words were followed with blood. So much of it. So dark. I knew what color it should be. It was red on her daggers. Red on her hands.” Miri’s fingers trembled, and she wrapped them into her ribs harder, tight enough that Cass could see the strain. “‘You know what to do,’ she told Henry, but I didn’t look. I knew what Henry would do. What he always did when she gave him an order. He would nod and do as she asked. I heard Lettie then, her screams tearing through the halls like the roar of a lion.”
They had not been Lettie’s screams, but Cass didn’t interrupt. Lettie had already been taken captive. The sorcerers had gone after her first. The true heir was held as ransom, should their plans go awry. She was last true queen and the kings’ only recourse to hold sway over the sorcerers.
Miri swallowed again, pale and looking more than a little sick. “Her hands were wrapped so tight around my wrists. Her knuckles were white, and I could only think of Henry’s. How they’d just been the same. How even he had shown fear.” Miri shook her head. “I’d never seen them scared. Either of them. And there, on my wrists, were my mother’s bone-white hands. Covered in blood. Just like Henry’s.” Miri pressed her lips together. “She was holding so tight that I wanted to pull away. I tried to fight her, Cass. As she lay there dying, I fought to get away.”