My father and his cabinet believed that once we had the beloved First Daughter of Morrighan within our borders, boundaries could be pushed. After acquiring Princess Arabella, the southern port of Piadro in Morrighan was next in their sights, though the cabinet preferred to use the word dowry. Only a small port and a few hills. But for Dalbreck, having a deepwater western port would increase their power tenfold.

It was also a matter of pride. In another time, the port and surrounding lands had belonged to Breck, the exiled prince of Morrighan, banished from the kingdom for challenging his ruling brother. Though countless centuries had passed since then, Dalbreck still wanted it back—some wounds never healed. They saw Lia as a diplomatic inroad to getting what they believed was rightfully theirs without mounting an outright invasion.

When I mentioned the desire for the port to the Komizar, it rang true for him, not just because he knew the port’s value, but because the quest for more power was a hunger he understood. Last night he had fished for details of the court of Dalbreck as if he was already planning for his meeting with the prince. I didn’t take him for a fool, though. He wouldn’t be misled forever. I knew enough of the reputations of Vendan riders, their swift flight, and the way they slipped through borders with ease. It wouldn’t be long before they returned with news of my father’s good health. Lia and I had to be gone before then. The brute of a fellow who had identified me was a concern, though. Griz, the Komizar had called him. Had he lied for me, or was he truly confused? Maybe he had seen me up on the dais at a ceremony and mistaken me for one of many dignitaries there. He was a loose end that I didn’t feel good about—and he was one mountain of a loose end.

I dropped the rag into the basin and grabbed a dry one. Only a thin smear of blood stained the white cloth when I dabbed my mouth. The flow was stopped, but my lip still throbbed. I walked over to the tall slit of a window, just shy of being wide enough for me to slip through, and I pushed open the shutter. Pigeons fluttered from the wet ledge.

Far below, Venda crawled awake like a lumbering giant. Walls and towers prevented me from seeing much past a few rooftops, but the city appeared to spread for miles. It was far larger than I had expected. I leaned as far forward as the narrow window would allow. Were Sven and the others already slinking down one of those dark streets?

Rafe’s plan’s going to kill us all.

Orrin may have voiced their thoughts, but none of them hesitated to do as I asked. Tavish even whispered before I rode off, We’ve done it before. We can do it again. But that time we had faced only a dozen, not thousands, and none had been the Komizar.

I turned away and paced the room, trying to think of anything but Lia. I looked down at the cuts across my knuckles, my own stupidity. As soon as they had brought me to my room last night and shut the door, I had punched the wall without thinking.

Reckless actions like that were not part of the plan either. Sven would have reprimanded me for acting with my heart instead of my head and putting a potential weapon, my hand, at risk, but it had been all I could do to sit there and act like I didn’t care when Lia kissed Kaden. The only thing that had delayed my reaction was the message I had received loud and clear from Lia—the Komizar watched everything. I knew he was playing us to see how we reacted. Lia’s performance had been stunningly believable. The Komizar had nodded approvingly. But how far did she have to go to convince Kaden too? This morning one of the guards took great pleasure in telling me that Lia was no longer wearing the burlap dress, that Kaden had told the Komizar she had earned a whole wardrobe last night. “The little Morrighese bitch has forgotten her frilly emissary already now that she’s had a taste of Vendan.”

I didn’t punch the wall after he left. I pulled myself up from the floor where he had deposited me, tasting the blood pooling in my mouth, and tried to remind myself that Lia hadn’t asked for any of this. I reminded myself of the look in her eyes when she first saw me before we crossed the bridge, her gaze that tore me sternum to soul, the one that said we were all that mattered, and I promised myself as I spit blood onto the floor, that one day I would see that look in her eyes again.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The locks at home had been child’s play compared to this. I had wrestled with this one for the better part of an hour. How many times had I picked the Scholar’s or the Chancellor’s doors or—especially fun for me—the Timekeeper’s, resetting his clock and timepieces? That had especially angered my father, but I’d only done it hoping it would create an extra hour in his day for me. I’d thought he might even appreciate my resourcefulness. He didn’t, but my brothers secretly grinned each time he chastised me. The pride in their faces alone had made it worth it.

But this lock was rusty and stubborn, and a simple hairpin wouldn’t budge it, much less this sliver of tinder, which was the only tool I could find. I wriggled it in the keyhole again, this time a little too enthusiastically, and it broke off.

“Damn!” I threw the broken stub to the ground. So the door wasn’t an option. There were other ways out of a room, perhaps a little riskier, but not impossible. I went to the window again. The ledge outside was walkable, a good ten inches wide. It was a harrowing drop to the ground, but only a couple of yards away, it connected to the top of a wide wall that branched into two different paths that might lead anywhere. Unfortunately, all three of my windows were in plain view of soldiers in the courtyard below, and they seemed to have an unusual interest in looking up here. I had waved to them twice. Before he left, Kaden had told me, “It will be safer for you to stay here.” He had tried to make it sound like he was only trying to keep others out, but it was clear he still didn’t trust that I’d stay put.