could all be nothing, it could just be her playing along, but he wanted to believe she missed him, too, he wanted it like a drowning man wanted air. If he didn’t look at the glamour on her face, he could pretend all was as it had been, that there were no lies, no secrets between them.
He could pretend she might forgive him.
And now he was inches away from committing a blasphemy with her on Ambra’s casket. Though, admittedly, blasphemy had been something of a hobby of his as of late.
She was supposed to hate him. He was supposed to make her hate him so that when this all came to a bloody end, it would hurt less—at least for her.
It was selfish, this, in the most terrible way. And it was one more sin she would never forgive.
* * *
“Do you see the problem?” he asked.
His mother looked at the repulsive decrees spread across her desk, delivered from the queen’s footman not an hour ago. “First off, I won’t approve a single one of these. She’ll have to wait until after the coronation to exercise her right to command the military.”
Tavin had taken a gamble, reaching out to his mother after Aunt Jasindra’s room had burned. From Rhusana’s panic, whatever had been in there was critical to her, and from the shift he’d seen in people around them, he had a hunch what that was.
His mother had all but confirmed it, the loss of Rhusana’s influence, as she’d merrily issued orders to light the plague beacons.
“Look closer,” Tavin said.
Draga did. Then she covered her mouth.
“It looked close enough. Rhusana didn’t check further.” It was one of his prouder moments: every single order Rhusana had put in front of him was signed not with Jasimir but Jasindra. Every one was worthless.
Except for one. He pulled a parchment from his sleeve, one signed by both Jasimir and Rhusana and bearing the royal seal. “I have a proposal,” he said. “And I think you’ll approve.”
* * *
“You know this is it,” Khoda said.
It was only hours before Rhusana’s final ball. He was ready, or at least he thought he was.
He’d done everything he could.
“The master-general won’t chase you. But getting out, that’s on you. Fie and Jasimir will have their hands full.” Khoda shook his head. “If you can make it to the Shattered Bay, give my name to the ferrywoman who works the sundown shift. She can make arrangements to get you across the sea. But there will be no place in Sabor for you after tonight.”
Tavin let out a short, harsh laugh, one that made Khoda give him a sidelong look. “Did you think there ever was?” he asked.
He’d done everything he could, given everything he could. He had no more left to sacrifice.
By every dead god, he hoped it would be enough.
* * *
The teeth did not offer her more, and Fie did not ask this time.
She sat in the garden, teeth clenched so tight in her palm that a distant part of her thought she might draw blood.
All along, Tavin had been helping her. Undermining Rhusana. Dying by inches. All along.
She’d thought he’d given up. She’d thought he didn’t believe they could win against Rhusana, that she was not enough.
But he’d never once stopped believing.
She wanted to sing. She wanted to howl. She wanted to weep and laugh and tear the garden down. She wanted to strangle Tavin and kiss his wretched fool face until her lips fell off.
She needed to—
Stick to the plan. That’s what Khoda would tell her. She had every intention of booting him off the nearest suitable cliff for putting her and Tavin and Jasimir through this, but it would have to wait.
Rhusana still needed Tavin. He would play the fool and get away from the queen when he could, and—and he would find her, and—
The hour-bell began to toll.
Fie set the teeth down on the bench and ran her hands over her face, over her hair, until the thunder in her skull retreated enough for her to think. She needed a new face, a new gown, a steady heart. The Peacock glamour shifted, the fabric bleeding from delicate teal to the same crimson as the lantern-lilies, the illusion of Niemi’s long braid weaving instead into one that sat over her head like a crown. When Fie stood and caught her reflection in the glassblack window, she realized the face she wore now was none other than Ambra’s.
The one upshot of this all, Fie