From behind Lara, there was the scrape of chairs pushing back, blades hissing out of sheaths as her sisters rose. Sarhina stepped between Lara and Nana. “Mind your tongue when you’re speaking to my sister, old woman, or you’ll soon find yourself without one.”
A scowl on her face, Lia moved to Nana’s side, hand on her weapon. But Aren’s grandmother only scoffed. “Quite the army you’ve assembled, Lara. A pack of pretty faces and a pregnant woman.”
Sarhina pantomimed a sorrowful pout. “One night of passion and I’ve been evicted from the pretty-face pack? It’s so unfair. Is it the belly? Or the spots? I’m told they’ll both disappear when the baby comes.”
Nana was not amused. “You’ll be next to useless for this task, girl. Get yourself home and concern yourself about what’s growing in your belly.”
“I decide what to concern myself with, woman,” Sarhina answered, her voice light and unconcerned. “And at the moment, it’s the pimple on my cheek and you.”
Sarhina’s words were more intimidating than the arsenal standing behind them. But none of this, none of the bickering and threats, would do anything to see Aren freed. Lara rested a hand on her sister’s arm, drawing her back. “This is . . . Amelie. She’s Aren’s grandmother.”
The grandmother who hadn’t forgiven Lara for her mistakes and likely never would.
If it had been up to Nana, Lara would’ve been executed within the hour of arriving in Eranahl, probably by way of being fed to the sharks the Ithicanians held so dear.
“His grandmother and the only person in this room who’s familiar with the layout and security within the inner walls of that palace,” Nana replied.
“We were all born there,” Bronwyn said. “Spent the first five years of our lives there.”
“Childhood memories!” Nana stomped through the room to take a seat at the head of the table. “I spent a year in that harem spying for Ithicana.”
“A year a hundred years ago?” Bronwyn looked Nana up and down. “Which gives you an octogenarian’s memory of the place.”
“Watch your mouth!” Lia jerked her knife out, eyes bright with anger.
Bronwyn tapped her own knife against her chin, smiling devilishly. “Who are you again?”
Lara met Jor’s eyes and he gave a clipped nod, seemingly the only person present as frustrated as she was. “Enough,” she said. “Everyone here wants the same thing, and that’s Aren freed. We are at a disadvantage regarding the layout and security of our father’s inner sanctum, but perhaps our collective knowledge of the place will be enough. If we work together.”
“A big maybe.” Sarhina said. “At this point, we’ll be going in blind. Not only are we unfamiliar with the guard patterns and defenses, we have no idea where they are keeping Aren or his patterns during the day. The only way this works is if enough of us go in to overwhelm his guards, which will be no easy feat. And a group of strange women wandering around the inner sanctum checking behind every locked door is not the path to success. We need someone on the inside.”
“We’ve tried buying servants.” Jor took a sip from the flask he’d extracted from his pocket. “For one, they’re difficult to reach. Only a handful are allowed free passage in and out of the palace, and those are either too loyal or too afraid of Silas to be turned. We thought we had one, but he gave us garbage information that got two of my best killed.”
“What about the guards?”
“Silas’s cadre members are loyal to the core.”
“Then we need to infiltrate the palace ourselves,” Sarhina said. “One of us hired as a servant, perhaps.”
“Servants work for the king for years before they’re allowed to take duties within the inner sanctum,” Nana interrupted. “And years we do not have.”
“What about as a servant to someone in the nobility?” Lara suggested. “They seem to come and go as they please.”
“Personal servants are only allowed within the outer walls.” Nana rested her elbows on the table, eyeing the rough schematics Bronwyn had drawn sitting on the top of a hill with a spyglass. “And the viziers have no freedom within the inner walls. They are brought where their presence is required, then escorted out.”
“Unless they’re blindfolded, they’ll still see things,” Sarhina said. “Can any of them be bought?”
“Not with the funds we have at our disposal,” Jor replied. “Silas cleaned out the coffers at Northwatch and Southwatch, along with those at Midwatch. Risking a trip back to Eranahl poses its own set of risks.”
“What about the ambassador from Harendell?”
Jor snorted. “Impossible. They don’t even allow him to piss in private.”
Pushing away the schematics, Nana leaned back in her chair. “Did you think this would be easy, girls? I didn’t whore myself to your smelly old grandfather because I was charmed by him. It was the only way in. And the only reason I was able to get out was that I had somewhere to go that I knew would be safe. We no longer have that.” She glared at Lara, her resentment palpable.
Lara had known this wouldn’t be easy, but now, faced with a ticking clock and so many seemingly insurmountable hurdles, the impossibility of the task hollowed out her stomach. Strategy after strategy circled through her mind, considered, then cast away. The Ithicanians were excellent with explosives, but the palace was full of women and children, never mind that they might accidentally kill Aren in the blasts. They could bring in reinforcements from Ithicana, but the death toll would be astronomical with no assurances of success. She and her sisters could try to infiltrate the palace blind, but that was likely to get more than a few of them killed, and the fact was, she wasn’t willing to risk them on a flimsy plan. Casualties every which way she looked, bodies to stack upon the bodies of all those who’d already died because of her mistakes.
“Suggestions?” she asked.
Everyone stared silently at the schematic until the sound of loud knocking saved them from having to answer.
“Beth has the ‘closed’ sign up,” Jor said. “Whoever it is will have to wait.”
Another loud knock, and the faint sound of a voice from outside demanding to be let into the shop.
“Damnable Maridrinians,” Nana muttered. “Never take no for an answer.”
“Beth will have to—” Jor was interrupted by the click of a latch and a soft chiming as the front door was opened.
“You said this woman was loyal to Ithicana,” Sarhina hissed at Jor, who gave a panicked nod even as he inched over to the doorway. Easing the curtain open a crack, he peeked out, while Bronwyn and Cresta went to the rear of the building, checking for any sign that the meeting had been compromised.
From out front, the jeweler said loudly, “It is an honor to have one of His Majesty’s wives in my establishment, my lady. How might I assist you this fine morning?”
Shit. Beth hadn’t had a choice. Not opening the doors for one of the harem wives would’ve drawn all sorts of trouble down upon them, but it was still a fine bit of bad luck.
“You lot wait outside,” an unfamiliar voice said, the timbre that of an older woman. “I don’t need you peering over my shoulder so you can spy on how much of Silas’s money I spend.”