Yet it is the only way for you to locate Sir Rigil or Prince Oren. Averella, you must. Stay by Sir Gavin’s side, and no harm will come to you, I am sure. He is a good man. But do not reveal your true self until you hear from me. Stay with Sir Gavin and away from Macoun Hadar.
But Mother, the Council is convening and you are not here? What has happened?
In his latest attempt to win my hand, Lord Nathak has destroyed most of our wells and cut off our route to the SiderosRiver. We are making do with help from the north, but I did not dare travel now. He has posted sentries around the perimeter of the manor. Anillo has my proxy. All should be well.
Vrell processed this. Lord Nathak was a horrible fool. Did he truly think he could imprison and blackmail Mother into his good favor? Or do so by Vrell’s marriage to the prince? Will this never end, Mother? Is there no one who will help us?
Arman will help us, dearest.
This is the last place I’d ever thought I’d be. In the room when they vote for Prince Gidon to be king. What if I am discovered? Khai could have told the whole stronghold by now. What if the prince should still claim me?
Stay close to Sir Gavin. I will watch through you. Do not try to speak to me or see me, for someone may be watching you and my connection could make you weak. Keep your wits about—
Vrell waited a moment. Mother? She sensed no connection, so she concentrated and called out again. Mother?
The privy’s stink suddenly seemed overwhelming. She coughed and tucked her nose into her elbow. Mother!
Vrell prayed and prayed and called for her mother again and again, but there was no answer. Had something happened? Vrell didn’t want to fret unnecessarily, but Mother had said that Lord Nathak’s men were all around the stronghold. What if they had done something to Mother?
Through heavy tears, Vrell changed into the blue tunic and black trousers Sir Caleb had provided, both of which were far too big for her. She tucked the pant legs into her wet boots and cinched the rope belt tight around her waist. She hoped she had taken long enough that the men would be properly clothed. They would just have to deal with the canal water smell that clung to her corset and hair. She would not be having a bath in their presence.
Sure enough, when Inko opened the door, she found Achan cleanshaven and dressed for court. Her stomach somersaulted at the sight. They had dressed him in a blue shirt as deep as Lady Fallina’s cobalt gown. A black leather doublet fit snugly around his torso. He wore his sword with the beautiful crossguard, black trousers, and a pair of shiny black boots. His hair was wet and shaggy around his face. Clearly they were not finished.
Still…
“You, uh, look nice,” Vrell said. She couldn’t help but notice that they matched. She was dressed as Achan’s page.
Achan scowled. “I smell like rosewater.”
“No.” Sir Caleb tugged a comb through Achan’s hair. “You smell like canal water, despite my best efforts. I didn’t know I’d need to prepare a bath.”
“Sparrow’s sorry for falling into the canal. Aren’t you, Sparrow?” Achan grinned, then grimaced as Sir Caleb tugged a knot out of his hair. “Must you do that? Am I going to tournament?”
“Worse. You’re going before the Council.”
Sir Gavin and Inko sat down at a small table on the opposite side of the room. Vrell stood by the door, unsure what to do.
“But why take me to the Council?” Achan asked. “They want to kill me, remember? Why rescue me only to take me back?”
“He’s such a whining squire, Gavin,” Sir Caleb said, yanking the comb through another tangle. “How ever did you put up with him?”
“It’s time.” Sir Gavin stood. “Finish his hair in the boat.” He glanced at Vrell appraisingly. “Good enough. Let’s go.”
They traipsed back down to the dory. Vrell sat on the center bench beside Achan, her heart stampeding in her chest. Sir Gavin sat in the front. Sir Caleb sat in the back with Inko, who paddled the boat from the yellowstone building down wider, more-traveled canals, heading toward the front entrance of the Mahanaim stronghold. Sir Caleb braided Achan’s hair into a tail as they drew near.
Inko rowed until they came to the northern curtain wall. Then, instead of entering there, he turned left and paddled along the wall. Suddenly, bright, warm sunlight washed over them. Vrell shielded her eyes and twisted around to see the Evenwall mist fading away. The air was still muggy, but a warm breeze tightened the pores on her face. Judging from the position of the sun, she determined it to be near lunchtime.
Vrell studied Achan, seeing him for the first time in full daylight. When she’d first met his eyes in the Evenwall, she’d thought they were grey. But the mist, and later the dungeons, had made everything dim. Here in the morning sun, she saw that his eyes were the brightest blue she had ever seen. He was clearly of kinsman descent. Looking at him in such light, there was something almost familiar about him.
They turned at the gatehouse entrance and glided under the open portcullis. Dozens of empty boats lined the edges of the canal along the same stone ledge where Jax had first brought Vrell, only today they were coming from the opposite direction. Many had come to Council today. For locals, the vote for Prince Gidon was something not to miss. Goose pimples freckled Vrell’s arms, and she sucked in a deep breath of humid air. She did not want to be here.
Achan asked the question that Vrell already knew the answer to. “What is happening in the Council today that we need to be there?”
“Gidon will be presented,” Sir Gavin said. “He’ll announce his intended bride, thus clearing the way for him to take the throne. The Council will vote on whether or not he is ready to be king.”
Inko’s voice came from behind. “And whom will he be marrying?”
Vrell tensed and watched Sir Gavin with interest.
“I know not,” Sir Gavin said, stroking his beard. “Nor can I imagine any lady who would willingly have him, even for the title of queen. He’s such a pestilence.”
Inko chuckled. “Those are treasonous words you are speaking, my friend.”
Vrell smirked, then remembered Lady Jacqueline’s jealousy of Lady Mandzee. There were plenty of ladies willing to sink that low.
Inko steered their boat up to the ledge, and it knocked against the empty crafts on either side.
Sir Gavin tied the boat to a peg. “When he is king, Gidon may hang me. Until then…”
Vrell offered up her knowledge as they climbed out of the dory. “I believe, sir, that the prince has settled on Lady Mandzee Hamartano of Jaelport. I heard Lord Levy say as much to his daughter.”
Vrell prayed that it would go as Lord Levy had suggested. That the prince would have finally chosen another. That he and Lord Nathak would have given up on trying to control the north. Though if her recent conversations with her mother were any indication, that was not the case. She only hoped Gidon would have at least chosen another bride.
Inko turned to Sir Gavin. “An alliance with Jaelport would be making the south quite strong.”
“Better for us than his having control of the north,” Sir Gavin said.
The group climbed the narrow stairs and walked across the cobblestone courtyard to the entrance of the Mahanaim fortress. There were no throngs of people as Vrell expected. Probably because Vrell’s group was late. She had hoped to blend in with the crowd. What madness was Sir Gavin plotting? The entrance to the chambers was at the front of the room. If they walked in while the Council was already in session, they would draw the notice of everyone in the room.