Page 64 of Lady of Doom and Devotion

A quiver of resolve rises up through the turmoil of my emotions.

I need to justify her faith in me not just to her but to Tinom and everyone else supporting her claim to the throne. Maybe most of them will never see riven magic as anything but an abomination, maybe they’ll never open their arms to the others out there, but I can keep showing that I’m so much more than that.

I have to make sure we use this upcoming festival to get her closer to that throne, or what good am I to her anyway?

I clasp her hands in return, putting all my will into keeping my voice steady. “Then let’s see you hailed as queen as soon as humanly possible.”

Twenty-One

Ivy

As we pass through the city gate in the midst of a stream of chattering revelers, the back of my neck prickles with apprehension. Two guards in a new uniform of crimson shirt and dun slacks stand on either side of the arched entryway, their hands resting on the pommels of their sheathed swords.

But the Order of the Wild’s version of the Crown’s Watch doesn’t appear to be monitoring the new arrivals all that closely. Their gazes slide over our humble cart without any more interest than they give the other folk around us.

Of course, Lothar’s new Festival of Freedom is being held in every city and town across the country. His people have no reason to think the small group of resistors he wants to stamp out would be here in Tupno.

As far as we know, Filip didn’t even pass on word that we were heading somewhere to the north. The men we sent to monitor the Order defector’s loyalty returned a couple of days ago, reporting that they’d seen no sign that Lothar was searching for us at the location we planted as a false lead.

Nothing else has gone wrong since we left Florian. I’m starting to think we weren’t betrayed at all, only had a particularly unlucky moment.

All the same, we didn’t invite Filip along on this particular mission.

I tap one of the horses’ flanks to direct it to the right where the street splits. From the map we studied yesterday, that should lead us to the city’s largest square.

It’s just a few blocks away from the palace I can already see, silvery spires rising above the nearer rooftops. Tupno is one of Silana’s largest cities and also the closest city to the Temple of Tranquil Skies that holds one of the royal residences.

Because of that royal presence, it’s a major hub for travel, trade, and all the communication that goes with those endeavours. We’re counting on a lot of people seeing our demonstration today—and spreading the word far and wide.

Even this street leading to the square buzzes with activity. Our trickle of visitors mingles with the flow of locals heading toward the main festival areas. Eager voices warble around us in a blur of words.

Crimson banners painted with the inverted All-Giver sigil dangle from lampposts and drape across building fronts. Streamers in the same color wave in the breeze.

Like streaks of fresh blood. After the carnage I’ve seen the scourge sorcerers carry out, the vivid color makes my stomach churn.

I restrain the urge to glance back at the cart, where our five companions sit in the shade of a canopy. I don’t know what Order members might be watching the crowd and whether they’d pick up on my nerves.

Beside me, Casimir takes in our surroundings with a thoughtful air. When he speaks, he keeps his voice low enough to pass beneath the clamor around us. “We should have a good-sized audience.”

I swallow a grimace. “All these people happily going along with a festival to celebrate murder. How can they be okay with it?”

The courtesan shrugs, his shoulder brushing mine. “They aren’t necessarily okay. It’s been weeks of confusion and uncertainty, especially for people living so close to Eppun where the uprising started. Lothar was smart—he realized they’d be craving a chance to put their fears behind them, to pretend there’s nothing to worry about. But the worries will still be lurking underneath.”

And I guess a fair number of Silana’s citizens have bought into the Order of the Wild’s rhetoric. They’re not worried at all.

We have to convince them they should be.

My back prickles with my awareness of the figure lying on the bottom of the cart beneath a blanket as if napping. Really, we wanted to conceal the man’s mutilated body so no onlookers would notice anything odd before we get into position.

The sacrificial accomplice who agreed to accompany us sounded nervous when we talked him through the plan, even though his loyalties to the scourge sorcerers have faded during his time recovering at a temple near Pima. He thanked Casimir for the courtesan’s instrumental role in getting him out of the brothel where he and his few companions were held, but he also tensed up when we talked about speaking to the crowd.

In the end, he agreed. He was the steadiest of the four, according to Voleska—which is why she had her people smuggle him to us for this operation. But that doesn’t mean the task will be easy for him.

“Are you sure we should have pushed this role on Poltus?” I can’t help asking. “To have to tell a heap of strangers what he’s been through—he’s risking the Order capturing him again, and gods know what they’d do to him…”

Casimir aims a gentle smile at me. “I wouldn’t say we pushed. We told him what we were hoping for, and he embraced the challenge. How many times have you put your neck on the line to protect this country despite the horrors you’ve already faced? We’ve got to give the scourge sorcerers’ victims the same opportunity.”

He’s probably right about that too, but it’s hard for me to compare Poltus’s situation to my own. He was groomed from childhood and left a mangled version of himself. At least I’ve always had most of the control over my fate.

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