through it. At first, it had taken every molecule of willpower inside her to keep it in check, but now it seemed easier, like their thoughts were falling in sync.
A guard cleared his throat. “You have a visitor, Your Highnesses,” he said.
Finnegan stood. His hand went to the hilt of his sword. “The kind we want to see?”
“She claims so.” The guard shouted over his shoulder. “Bring her here!” Two more men strode forward, a woman between them. Nettle. Her arms were hooked around theirs, but she stood with all the dignity of a queen, a braid falling over her right shoulder.
“Please tell them to release me, Finnegan.”
Finnegan waved his hand, and the guards stepped back. Aurora hurried toward Nettle, but uncertainty seized her at the last moment, and she paused a few inches away. Nettle smiled and ran her fingers through Aurora’s hair. “You are okay?” Nettle said.
“As okay as I can be. It is good to see you.”
“You too.” She slipped onto the ground by the fire. Aurora settled beside her. “I have missed you.”
“For Nettle, that’s practically a declaration of undying love,” Finnegan said. He did not sit. “Why are you here? Not that it isn’t good to see your beautiful face, but we arranged to meet outside Petrichor.”
“I have information,” she said. “And you were not difficult to find.” She glanced at the sky as she spoke.
Aurora grabbed her arm. “Is it about Rodric? Is he all right?”
“Yes and no,” Nettle said. “He and the girl are locked in the dungeons of the castle, awaiting their trial. If it can be called a trial. They will be found guilty of treason either way.”
“You’re sure?” Aurora said.
“Yes, Princess. The pyre is already being built. The king wants to show how dedicated he is to protecting the throne. He will make a show about how all traitors must be treated equally. He’s saying that your death will end all the kingdom’s problems, that it will end the curse on Alyssinia, whether magic comes back or not.”
“And everyone believes it?”
“Not everyone. But enough people do. And enough others want to. Desperate people will believe many unbelievable things.”
“So they’ll accept that this other girl is me as well?”
Nettle nodded.
Aurora hugged her knees to her chest and thought of the imposter princess. A girl, imprisoned, alone, for no crime at all. “Who is she?”
“Her name is Eliza,” Nettle said. “She looks similar to you. Small and blond and beautiful. A little like the slightest breeze would destroy her, but haughtier than you too. I believe she is the daughter of some out-of-favor noble, one who never came to court. People will not recognize her as herself, and her parents have been killed for some treason or another.”
“Before or after he decided she could pretend to be me?”
“After you ran,” Nettle said. “But before she was arrested. No one will protect her, and no one wants to believe that she is not who the king claims.”
“What’s your source on this?” Finnegan asked. “Rumors?”
“I do not rely on rumors,” Nettle said. “I was told this by the queen.”
“The queen?” Aurora’s grip on Nettle’s arm tightened. “You’ve been speaking to Iris?”
“I have,” Nettle said. “She is unhappy that her husband has arrested her son. Unhappy enough to speak to me and to help your cause, as long as it also helps Rodric.”
“How will she help us?” Finnegan asked.
“Not directly. Information is all she will offer. But that is useful, at least.”
“What has she told you?”
Nettle picked up a stick from the ground and began to draw in the dust. A large circle for the city walls, a smaller one for the castle, with roads and squares in between. “The city walls are manned and the gates locked,” she said, “so you will not get past them without alerting the king. Nor will you be able to reach Rodric and Eliza before the trial. They are under heavy guard here.” She poked part of her castle with the stick. “You might be able to get to them as they’re escorted out of the castle, but unless you want to slaughter an army of guards, the best chance will be during the trial itself. Everyone in the city will be forced to attend, in the courtyard outside the castle. The dragon will help as a distraction there, I would think.”
“Good,” Aurora said. “I want it to be memorable.” She looked over the map in the dust. “But what if we get there before the trial? Or