gazes and unspoken words pass.
“You may be firstborn, but you have proven that you do not belong up there. Not anymore. And I will do what you cannot.” Atticus’s chest rises with a deep inhale. “Guards! Seize her!”
Is this happening? Again? “He can’t do this, can he?”
Zander’s eyes shift to the soldiers moving in. A flash of shock skates across his face when he sees Boaz leading the charge. “Abarrane!”
“The Legion is with the rightful king of Islor, Your Highness.” She punctuates that with a fleeting bow.
Zander yanks his sheathed jeweled dagger off his hip and presses it into my hand, curling my fingers over it. To Elisaf and Abarrane, he orders, “Get her to her rooms and hold them off. I’m right behind you.”
I stare at the weapon in my palm until Elisaf grabs my arm.
“Come. It’s not safe for you here anymore.”
I clutch the dagger’s hilt as we run.
Everything seems to move in slow motion and yet warp speed. My mind is caught in a fog, the sound of blades clashing all around me. Abarrane and the Legion cut down charging soldiers as if they were farmhands swinging shovels. Somehow, we make it from our seats in the tournament square to the royal chamber stairs.
“Hold them off!” Elisaf orders to Abarrane, not slowing to ensure they listen. We dash for my suite.
Corrin is pacing around my sitting room when we reach it. “I was in the kitchens when I heard the yelling! There are soldiers fighting everywhere. Who would attack us like this with all the king’s army in place?” she demands, but her normally resolute voice carries a tremble.
“I’m afraid it is the king’s army that has attacked. And the commander is leading the charge,” Elisaf says, his lungs showing some strain.
“I didn’t know about the poison! Atticus knows that!” I cry between ragged breaths. I’ve never moved so fast in my life.
“It does not matter. He is using this to his advantage.”
Shouts ring from somewhere far below.
“I warned you, didn’t I!” My indignant rage bubbles. “I warned you both that he couldn’t be trusted, and you didn’t listen to me!”
“I did not think he would do this.” Zander charges in, a smear of blood that isn’t his own on his cheek. A haunting shout carries up the stairwell, one of agony, of likely a final breath. “Atticus has claimed the army. Some still fight for me, but they will not last long. There are too many. We need to leave now. Even the Legion can’t hold them off. Abarrane knows where to meet us.”
“Why is Boaz against us?”
“Because Boaz is for the crown, and he clearly no longer feels I am fit to wear it.” He nods toward my dress. “Change out of that, quickly, unless you feel like running in it.”
Corrin and I rush to my closet. Her fingers work frantically over the hooks and buttons. I peel off the delicate material, leaving it in a heap as I don my tunic and pants.
Zander appears in the doorway just as I’m yanking on my second riding boot. Corrin is on her knees, furiously tying the laces. “Are you ready? We need to get out of the city immediately. We will meet Abarrane out near Eldred Wood.”
I curse. “I need to go to the apothecary first.”
“For what?”
I hesitate. “Bexley found Ianca and Gesine. They’re waiting there for me. She sent the message this morning. I was going to tell you after the tournament.”
“What message?” Corrin gasps as she remembers. “You’ve been scheming again! And with Dagny, of all people! I knew you were up to something.” She stabs the air between us with her finger. “I warned him not to fall for this new—”
“It’s not what you think!” I yell over her tirade.
“Why am I not surprised by this?” Zander shakes his head. “Wendeline has lied and manipulated us in far worse ways than I ever anticipated, and now you want to seek out more of these treacherous casters from Mordain?” His anger rises with his words. “That spectacle out there could have been avoided had she told us what this poison was. We would have known to check the Ybarisans. This is what she wanted. Islor in shambles.”
“But I don’t think it is.” Whatever her reasons for deceiving him, Wendeline said everything she did has been for the future of Islor that Zander wants.
“And what do you know about what is and what isn’t, Romeria?” he seethes. “All of Islor will be hunting you—the immortals,