Then I practically pushed her out of my room before I could do something stupid like order her to stay.
The next two days flew by. Vicer was making his plans, and I was making mine. Lorian spent most of the time away with the king on another hunting trip, and I’d spent my time helping Tibris in the dungeon, going over and over every part of our plan.
Meals with the other ladies had become…awkward. Caraceli’s usual seat was empty, but since she’d taken to sitting next to me so she could hiss threats in my ear, I wasn’t exactly upset about that. Lisveth had taken her seat back, although even she was quiet.
Pelopia and Alcandre sent me occasional wary looks. Obviously, Caraceli had managed to convince them of my scheming ways.
But I could barely focus on them. Instead, I was continually daydreaming about the way Lorian had taken me the other night. I’d been right about one thing when I’d fantasized about his body—even as I’d loathed him. He’d likely ruined me for any other man. And yet I couldn’t find it in me to regret it.
Lorian was currently lounging next to the king, laughing at something Farrow said. I couldn’t help but be entranced by the way he’d transformed from mercenary to prince.
He caught my eye, and I swallowed at the hard glint in his eye. Something was wrong. I gave him the tiniest nod and went back to my food.
But I could no longer eat.
By the time I met him back in his room, my lungs were heavy with dread.
“What is it?” I asked when he opened the door.
His expression was serious, and he kept his eyes on mine. “I just learned that Sabium has filled in the tunnel to the market.”
A dull roaring sounded in my ears. Lorian cursed and pulled me farther into the room, hauling me onto the sofa.
“I’m sorry, Prisca.”
“The king knows of our plans.”
“If he did, we would all be burning. But it’s possible someone reminded him that the tunnel was still there and unused. Perhaps a guard noticed dust disturbed near the entrance. Or Sabium had simply always planned to fill it in and it’s a coincidence.”
“You don’t believe in coincidences.”
He just shook his head. “You’d be surprised what I believe in. But there’s another possibility.”
I nodded. “That Sabium knows someone was in his dungeon and he’s setting some kind of trap.” I got up to pace. The tunnel wasn’t the only way. It couldn’t be. “I’ll figure something else out.”
“Prisca.”
“This isn’t the end.”
Lorian caught my hand. For the first time, his eyes were dark with sorrow. I wrenched my hand away.
“Don’t look like that. You promised to help if I found your amulet. You vowed it.”
He frowned. “And I’ll complete my vow. But right now, you don’t have a plan.”
“I will.” I attempted to keep my voice steady, but from the pity in Lorian’s eyes, I wasn’t successful. He stood and brushed my hair behind my ear. My eyes burned at the tenderness, and I pulled away, unable to handle kindness from him right now.
“I’ve got to go.”
“Prisca.”
I stalked out. With the tunnel no longer an option, how was I going to get the prisoners out? The Gods Day ball was in just four days, and the king was clearly being careful.
My mind raced with possibilities. The servants’ halls connected to the back exit of the castle. But anyone leaving the grounds still had to go through the front gates. Even with the amount I’d practiced with my magic, I couldn’t freeze time long enough for over three hundred prisoners to make their way down the paved road leading to the gates.
Maybe Vicer could arrange for the rebels to steal whatever conveyance they could find and meet us somewhere close enough to the castle that we could load the hybrids into that transportation.
I snorted. Even if they could somehow steal enough for everyone, what were the chances that the guards wouldn’t notice hundreds of horses, carriages, and carts all heading toward the castle? I’d seen the guards stationed at various points throughout the city. Paid attention to their alert demeanor and the random searches they insisted upon. The city guards were bound to be on high alert for Gods Day, especially with so many prisoners due to be executed at dawn.
A hollow ache settled in my stomach, and I couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in my ears. I’d already failed Wila. Failed Asinia’s mother. Failed my own. I couldn’t fail anyone else. Couldn’t let anyone else die because of me.