“When?”
“Don’t know. Any day now. City feels like it’s about to erupt.”
This is not good. How many more innocent people will die? And what about all the mortals inside the castle? Will Corrin, and Dagny, and Gracen get caught up in it? If I could somehow get them past the guards and to the nymphaeum … But that doesn’t solve the problem of all these mortals in the city.
“What about the port?”
He shakes his head. “No ship is sailing out of Cirilea without a sealed letter from the king himself and he won’t be handin’ those out. Believe me, the sea captains aren’t happy about it either. I know most of them and they’re itchin’ to get out. Not that they’d be able to take too many with ‘em.”
“Some is better than none.”
A bark of deep, booming laughter draws my attention to the brawny seaman across the way. “What about a ship that can fit hundreds in the hull?” Maybe more. The Silver Mage is massive.
Seamus follows my line of sight and laughs. “You’d need a wagon of gold and your pretty face to convince that one.”
“If I can get that?”
His chuckles die down as he realizes I’m serious. “If you can get that … There’re a few of us who get things done around here. I trust them with my life.”
A band of thieves. I’m sure I’ll need more gold to buy their loyalty, but I’ll take any help I can get. I need to get these mortals far away from Atticus now. I reach into my pocket to fish out the sizable ruby that I brought from Ulysede and set it on the table in front of him. “I will pay in gold and jewels for every one of those ships to take as many mortals as they can to Northmost. Half before, half when they arrive.”
He licks his lips. “When?”
“Tomorrow. Be ready. As soon as you hear from me or my people, it’s time.” We need to come up with a plan. This is going to be tricky.
“Tell Lombard to fetch me. He’s always here. Each captain’ll need a letter to hand off to the guards. The Silver Mage though, you’ll need to convince that one on your own.”
“I can handle him.” I know how to speak his language. “Will the guards let a flood of mortals onto the ships?”
“Nah, but we’ll stir up a distraction.” He beams, showing off crooked teeth. “Lot of people are gonna want on those boats, what with all the chaos. Hudem celebrations are canceled, the royal wedding has been called off.”
“Called off by whom?” Was it Zander’s words in the letter that smartened him up? Thank God Saoirse won’t find her way to the throne.
“Officially, His Highness has thrown his betrothed into the tower for taintin’ his tributary—”
“What?” I hiss. Gracen. “When?”
“The taintin’ or the arrestin’？”
“Both.”
“I don’t know the former, but the Lady Saoirse has been in the tower two nights now.”
A wave of relief hits me. I saw Gracen just last night, so it wasn’t her who was tainted then. But that might explain why Atticus was feeding off her. The royal tributaries would be targets for someone looking to poison the king. A baker with three kids … not as obvious.
“Anyhow, I’d imagine Lady Saoirse’s not too keen on weddin’ the king anymore.”
“And what about Lord Adley?” He’s been angling for the throne forever.
“Aye, he’s got big problems too. He’s in a dungeon cell with the other eastern lords. At least, I think he is. Also heard that His Highness executed the lot. Haven’t been able to firm up an answer. No one’s allowed in or out of the castle these days.”
Atticus had the balls to lock up Adley? That’s something Zander wished he’d done, in hindsight. “Why were they put in the dungeon?”
“Because they were naughty,” comes an amused voice, startling me. Bexley has arrived, in an emerald-green dress with a fitted corset, the swell of her breasts spilling out the top.
Seamus dips his head—in apology or submission, I can’t tell—and then slides out and disappears as quickly as he appeared. The ruby is gone, but I expected as much. It’ll help with whatever convincing he needs to do.
Bexley takes his place. “It is the biggest topic of conversation around my tavern these days.”
I smooth my expression. “What is?”
She props her elbows on the table’s surface and folds her hands together, those unusual violet eyes dissecting me. Tendrils of soft strawberry-blond hair cascade down her shoulders. “What the king has done, what he plans to do. So many questions, so many theories.”