not strike me as someone to be mourned heavily.”
They are silenced by the throne room doors being thrown open and the other two prisoners marched inside. The guards bring them nearly to Mirabella’s feet in the aisle and force them to their knees before the queen.
“Well?” Katharine asks.
“Well, what?” asks Mirabella.
“Do you know them?”
She looks down, and the guards jerk the prisoners’ heads up and to the right so that Mirabella can better see their faces.
“I do not.”
“How is that possible? You were in the rebel city for weeks.”
“I was. But the rebels were many and varied. New war-gifted arrived from Bastian City every day.”
Katharine studies her quietly. Then she exhales and reclines again upon her throne. “They will have to be questioned.”
Mirabella swallows. Everyone on the island knows what is meant when a poisoner says that someone must be “questioned.”
“Genevieve will do it; she is the best.” Katharine waves her wrist. “Start right away.”
“No.” Mirabella squares her shoulders. “They were here to free me.”
“Free you? And why would you need to be freed?”
“It was a misguided attempt. They thought—I was being kept here against my will.”
“Did you not leave a note?” Genevieve asks sarcastically.
Mirabella ignores her. “They would have disrupted the parade and used the distraction to facilitate my escape. I told them not to do it. That is why I seemed nervous before the parade began.”
“Because you thought they would help you escape,” Katharine says softly.
“Because I feared they would try to make me. That is why I asked you to take hold of my horse’s rein.”
Luca sighs. “Why did you not say something?”
“I hoped I would not have to.”
“But there were rebels in the city. And you knew.”
“Yes,” says Mirabella. “And Billy Chatworth is my friend. I make no secret of that.” Finally, given the excuse, she looks at Billy again. But his expression is unreadable.
“How did you communicate with them?” Katharine asks, and Mirabella looks back at her. “You said you told them not to. How did they get word to you? How did you respond?”
“By bird,” Mirabella lies. She cocks her head at Genevieve. “I trust you will not ‘question’ every sparrow that makes her nest upon the Volroy.”
Genevieve narrows her eyes, and they wait. Katharine has gone still. Such stillness does not seem as dangerous to Mirabella as it once did, when all she knew of her youngest sister was that she was a snake and likely to strike. But there are no easy answers for what to do with the rebels. Or with Billy.
“The secret of these prisoners has been kept already for a night and a day. But we cannot keep it for much longer.”
“All of Indrid Down should know about their capture,” says Genevieve. “It will be the most festive month on record. A parade and a public execution.”
“Or perhaps they should not know,” suggests Luca. “It may make the people uneasy, that rebels were so near. We do not want to shake their confidence in the crown right after we have bolstered it.”
“I think you should let them go,” Mirabella says.
Genevieve throws up her hands. “Of course you would.”
“I think you should not be the queen that people fear.” She raises her eyes and looks into Katharine’s. “You are the Queen Crowned of Fennbirn Island. The rebels are nothing. Not even led by a true queen. Show them how little they mean. Send the war-gifted back, with a warning never to return.”
“And what of him?” Katharine asks, nodding with her chin toward Billy.
Mirabella swallows. That question is only a test.
“Billy Chatworth, the former suitor, should not be released. He is leverage. I know Arsinoe. She will do nothing against you as long as you have him.”
“Mira,” Billy says. She looks at him but does not waver. “What are you doing?”
Katharine waits for what feels like an age before speaking.
“I am glad to hear you say that, Mirabella. Because it is true; I could never let the suitor go.” She nods to the guards at the back of the room. “Release the war-gifted. Take them to the road toward Prynn. Give them mounts and set them free.”
INDRID DOWN
Genevieve goes with Rho to oversee the release of the war-gifted at the ruins of the old city wall. She rides behind them in the dark as Rho rides before, their way lit by fewer and fewer streetlamps.
Let them go, Mirabella said, and Katharine did, as if Mirabella had enchanted her. As if she were the Queen Crowned instead.
“This is far enough.” Rho halts