“My lady—” a man started to respond, but was cut off with a fierce “Out!”
The door slammed shut. Cresta reappeared from the rear, whispering, “Six-guard escort. Seems like an unfortunate coincidence.”
Which meant they had no choice but to wait it out.
“I was led to believe this was a flower shop,” the harem wife said. “And that you were a florist, not a jeweler.”
Jor’s hand went to the knife at his waist and Lia drew hers, both their expressions grim.
“That’s her code name,” Lia said softly. “We’ve been made. Time to go.”
Bronwyn returned, shaking her head. “Two guards came around back to smoke. Can’t get past without killing them.”
“I specialize in jewelry set in the shape of flowers,” Beth responded. “Perhaps that was the cause for the miscommunication.”
“It wasn’t a miscommunication,” the wife said. “It was a misdirection. There’s a difference, you see.”
The two guards were likely decoys meant to appear as easy marks. There’d be others waiting. Dread pooled in Lara’s gut. She’d brought her sisters here, had risked them all for the sake of saving Aren. Another mistake. She’d made another mistake.
“Of course. I see.” There was a faint shake to the jeweler’s voice. “Might I show you some of my work, or do you wish for me to direct you to a reputable florist nearby?”
“Neither.”
“My lady?”
“We have a mutual acquaintance, I’m told. He suggested you might be able to do something about the flowers that keep arriving in the palace garden. Neither of us is particularly fond of the smell, and he suggested you might be in a position to see any future orders cancelled.”
“There’s something familiar about her voice . . .” Sarhina said, scowling as Nana pushed her aside to step up next to Jor, trying to peer over his shoulder at the women beyond.
“How peculiar,” Beth said. “Unfortunately, I don’t see how I can help you. My business is gemstones, not flowers, and I have no commissions with the crown.”
“Not with the Maridrinian crown, you mean. But perhaps another.”
Bronwyn dragged at Lara’s arm, pointing up to the ceiling, where a hatch was already open, rain falling through to splatter the table. “You and Sarhina go,” she hissed. “We’ll distract them while you take the rooftops.”
“No.” Lara pulled her arm out of her sister’s grip. “It’s me Father wants most, and I’m sure he wants me alive. I’ll provide the distraction, the rest of you go.”
Sarhina had turned back around. “Don’t be a fool, Lara. Once Father has you, he has less reason to keep Aren alive. And if he dies, so does any chance of Ithicana enduring. This is about more than just you.”
The jeweler was blathering on about works she’d done for foreign royals, trying to keep the wife’s attention long enough for the group to flee.
“We need to go.” Sarhina climbed onto the chair Bronwyn had placed on the table, reaching up to the trap door leading to the attic.
“You too, Nana. Aren will never forgive me if I let you get caught.” Jor hauled on the old woman, trying to pull her back from the door, but she shooed him away.
And from the front, the harem wife’s voice carved through the noise of marching soldiers. “Enough with your babbling, woman. I only have so much time. Now tell whatever Ithicanians you’re harboring that Amelie Yamure’s grandson sent me.”
15
Lara
The jeweler, Beth, continued to ramble, trying to buy them time to escape, but no one in the room moved.
“Let her in.” For the first time since she’d met Nana, Lara heard a slight shake in the old woman’s voice. A hint of nerves.
“Enough of this.” There was a clack of heels against the wooden floor, and an elderly woman draped in expensive velvet and even more expensive jewels appeared in the doorway.
Where she stopped dead, her eyes growing wide as saucers at the sight of them. “My God—can it be?”
Sarhina stepped forward, her brow furrowed. “Auntie?”
The woman’s gaze fixed on her. “Little Sarhina?” In two strides, she closed the distance, wrapping her arms around Sarhina’s shoulders and pulling her close even as she took in the rest of them. “This is not what I expected to find. How did he know?” Then she shook her head. “No, of course he doesn’t know. Would never have agreed to it, if it meant . . .” Her voice turned sharp. “Which one of you is Lara?”
Lara stepped forward, wishing she was dressed in finer attire. Clothes had always been armor for her, tools to wield. And right now, she felt woefully unequipped. “I am.”
The old woman stared at her for a long moment, then dropped into a curtsy. “Your Majesty.”
“Please don’t.” Lara’s voice croaked. “It’s not a title I deserve.”
“Most people with titles don’t deserve them.”
“Least of all her,” Nana said. “It’s been a long time, Coralyn. You look like you’ve been living soft.”
“And you look like you’ve been left out in the sun to bake for the past fifty years.”
No one in the room breathed while the two matriarchs glared each other down.
“So you remember me,” Nana finally said.
“It’s my body that’s gone soft, not my head.” The old woman—Coralyn—sniffed. “You’re the only one to have ever disappeared without explanation.” Her jaw tightened. “We thought you were dead.”
“Nah,” Nana said. “Just had what I needed. Goodbyes would’ve put all that I’d worked for at risk.”
Lightning fast, Coralyn moved, her hand cracking against Nana’s face. “That’s for the lies. And for abandoning the harem.”
“I suppose I deserved that.” Nana rubbed her cheek with one hand, then, to Lara’s shock, closed the distance and hugged the other woman tightly. “You’ve seen my grandson, then?”
“Oh, yes. Quite the pretty thing Aren is—he inherited your good looks.”
Sarhina guffawed, but both women ignored her. And Lara lost her patience.
“Is he all right? Has Father hurt him?”
Exhaling, Coralyn shook her head. “The Magpie isn’t fool enough to harm him in any visible way—not while Silas is still attempting to negotiate the surrender of Eranahl in exchange for Aren’s life, and certainly not with the Harendellians grumbling over his imprisonment in the first place. But as for Aren’s mind . . .” She trailed off, giving a slow shake of her head. “Guilt is nearly getting the better of him, and it is compounded every time you lot send another person to be caught and killed. Serin has them tortured and then strung up in the gardens, and then ensures your boy spends a healthy amount of time out there with nothing to do but watch them rot. It’s only a matter of time until the Magpie’s tactics break him.”
Lia gasped, and Jor’s face tightened with grief. But all Lara felt was icy resolve filling her core. “I’m going to kill him. I’m going to cut out his goddamned heart.”