would have stood by him. I would have stood by him. No one else would have gotten hurt. But he didn’t listen.” Kei shook his head. “That’s when I knew I’d chosen the wrong king.”
She waited for him to go on, but his gaze went back out the window.
“What about Rhian? Do you think he’s a good king?” Sophie guided, trying to keep him talking.
“Better than Tedros,” said the captain. “But that’s not what makes him Good.”
“What do you mean?” Sophie asked.
Kei turned, meeting her eyes. “He’s loyal to people, despite their flaws. Like his brother. Or me. Or you. Isn’t loyalty a mark of Good?”
For a moment, Sophie actually believed him.
“Except you don’t just serve Rhian,” she pointed out. “You serve the Lion and the Snake now. The Snake who you wanted to be away from.”
“I don’t serve the Snake,” Kei said, ice-cool.
“Pshh. You rescued him from Nottingham’s prison—”
“Because Rhian ordered me to and I’m loyal to Rhian. And because as king, Rhian assures me he has his brother under his firm control. I have no loyalty to Japeth. We weren’t friends at school. Rhian was barely friends with him at school. Japeth had his own best friend. A monster, if you ask me.”
“Aric,” Sophie said, out loud.
Kei froze. “How do you—”
She’d said too much.
His eyes glassed over and his spine straightened.
The rest of the ride was silent.
AS THE CARRIAGE barreled through the gates, a team of twelve black-masked pirates were dismounting their horses in front of the stables and hosing the blood off their black suits, having returned from a night of attacks. One of the Mistral Sisters lurked amongst them, handing out satchels of gold. Through the pirates’ masks, they watched the carriage drive by, their cold, hollow eyes tracking Sophie like a fox let into the chicken coop.
Rhian kills Japeth.
I kill Rhian.
Pirates kill me.
Sophie shuddered.
The carriage stopped in front of the castle doors. She followed the captain up the Blue Tower stairs, Evelyn Sader’s white dress tingling at her skin again, as if fully aware of her murderous plot and warning her not to go through with it.
Sophie bit down her fear and climbed faster. This time, a dress wouldn’t stop her.
She trailed Kei across the catwalk towards the Throne Room, with a view into the Blue Tower dining hall.
Someone was at its table.
Sophie bucked up, a forced smile on her face, anticipating her enemy. . . .
It wasn’t Rhian.
An old, filthy man slurped messily from plates of parsnip soup, salmon pie, roast chicken with applesauce, stuffed eggs, stewed yams, and butterscotch pudding.
Another Mistral Sister sat across the table. “Now, Bertie, if something were to befall the Sheriff—highly unlikely, of course—that would turn Nottingham’s ring over to you. And you’ll burn that ring on the king’s command, just as we discussed—”
“We discussed you freein’ me brutther frum Bloodbrook jail,” Bertie growled, fisting pudding into his mouth. “And a house for me mum.”
“Your mother will stay in Stink Swamp and your brother in jail until you burn the ring,” the Mistral woman said curtly.
Bertie gave her a dead-eyed glare. “Better be a big house for me mum. With a tub—”
Kei was well ahead of Sophie now and she hurried to keep up, her dress stinging threateningly at her skin.
They passed the Map Room, where Wesley and a second pirate, in their black marauding suits, hovered in front of a floating map of the Woods, every kingdom X’ed out except Bloodbrook, Ladelflop, and Nottingham.
“A good night’s work,” said the dark pirate.
“Bloody good night’s work,” Wesley smirked.
He dipped his middle finger in black ink and slashed it across Bloodbrook and Ladelflop, leaving only Nottingham untouched.
Sophie fended off a wave of nausea.
Japeth has the last ring.
A ring that Bertie would burn on Rhian’s order.
She had to move quickly.
Kei was skirting past the Treasury Master’s office now, where Sophie noticed the third Mistral Sister seated opposite the bald, egg-shaped Treasury Master, pug-nosed and pink-skinned, surrounded by piles of ledgers on his desk. She tried to eavesdrop—
“The Camelot Courier has been making inquiries into our accounts, Bethna,” said the Treasury Master. “They’ve sent reporters to the Bank of Putsi.”
“Warrants are out for the Courier’s staff,” said Bethna. “They’ll never make it to Putsi.”
“Even so, the manager of the bank has a mind of his own,” the Treasury Master observed. “If he begins investigating our accounts, he could alert the Kingdom Council before the last ring is burned. . . .”
Bethna weighed his words. “I’ll go to Putsi at once,” she said, turning