The Promised Queen (Forgotten Empires #3)- Jeffe Kennedy Page 0,105

keep it.”

“I’ll think of a way to trick them,” I insisted. I’d dragged that sack around the citadel before, after all.

“What trick?” she demanded.

“These things can’t always be planned,” I insisted, aware that I sounded defensive. And stubborn. “You can’t control the whole fucking world,” I gritted between my teeth.

“This is your life, Conrí,” she shot back, “which you just promised to safeguard for Me at all costs. Come up with a better plan.”

Everyone looked from Lia—slim and delicate, unflinchingly staring me down—to me. Was she the irresistible force or the immovable object? I raked my hand over my scalp. “I will.”

“Before you leave.”

I took her hand and kissed it. “I promise.”

“Something to figure into your scenario,” Agatha said into the quiet lull, “is that the royal captives sometimes attend court.” She made a bracket of her fingers, measuring from my figure to Anure, then back from “me” to the front row of courtiers. “Any vurgsten package powerful enough to reach the Imperial Toad—if we’re trying to kill him and not just create a distracting boom—would also possibly kill the very people we’re attempting to rescue.”

“Give me ideas, people. How do we make sure the royal captives are in their rooms and not in court?” Lia asked the group.

“I have an idea, Your Highness, Conrí,” Ibolya said, then seemed abashed when we all looked at her. “If it’s not impertinent to interrupt at this point.”

“I asked for ideas, so you’re not interrupting,” Lia told her gently. “What is it?”

“If some of us infiltrate the citadel before Conrí’s audience, we can pose as servants and warn the royal captives. That would also give us time to explain what’s going on. They’ll cooperate when it’s time to move because they’ll know they’re being rescued. Conrí won’t need a full hour.”

Lia smiled. “Good thinking.”

“Yes,” Agatha said. “Very smart. Some of them might even be helpful in the effort.”

Ibolya smiled back, hesitant, then more widely. “I know something about serving royals, so I volunteer to be one of those people who sneaks in to talk to them.”

Lia’s smile faded, the specter of horror darkening her eyes. “I hate to ask that of you. And you wouldn’t know how to find them.”

“You didn’t ask, Your Highness; I offered,” Ibolya replied. “This is my idea and I want to do this.”

“I can guide Ibolya, Your Highness.” Agatha gestured to the model. “As of our last visit, however, the royal captives were lodged in three separate towers.”

“If I go in at least the night before,” Ibolya said, “I can make sure no one leaves early for a breakfast meeting or some such before court. I could make my way to all three towers in the course of a night.”

“A new lady-in-waiting moving among all three towers?” Agatha shook her head. “That would be noticed. Too suspicious. I’ll take two towers, and you take the other.”

“Better, three of us go, each taking one,” Sondra said, not looking at me. She brushed a hand over her shorn hair. “I knew I cut this stuff off for a reason. I can’t pull off elegant lady-in-waiting, but I can be slave girl.”

I eyed her tall, muscular form, the fierce gaze of a warrior, and thought there was no way anyone would mistake Sondra for a simple slave girl. She caught me looking. “I can do it, Con. I’ve lived it, remember? My way of holding the torch. Besides, I memorized all the old royalty, back in the day. I can be useful.”

“All right,” I said, both to her and to get the room’s attention. “How do we get Agatha, Ibolya, and Sondra into the citadel?”

“We’ll need papers,” Agatha said, “and to look like servants and slaves of no note. More surreptitious is better. We three will work on that.”

Brenda tapped the table. “I’ll help Conrí with designing a bomb he can smuggle in and still escape from. While you all have been off waging battles and executing heroic rescues, I’ve been experimenting with vurgsten. Since I only had small amounts to work with, I found ways to purify and condense the stuff. I can make a smaller bomb powerful enough to clear that throne room—and maybe disguise it as something else.”

“And here I thought you’d been composing sonnets,” Percy observed.

Brenda lifted a silver brow. “I have. Tinkering with chemistry is excellent for allowing the mind to wander through poetic composition.”

“We should go in two groups then,” Kara put in. “I can pilot one of the Hertaq fishing boats and take it