Page 63 of To Steal the Sun

“I told you she’d come for us,” Alma said in a loud, satisfied voice, eyeing off the rest of the group.

“Thank you for your faith,” Gwen murmured, tears pricking at the back of her eyes. “I just hope you’re willing to have a little more because I have a final request for you.”

She led the way a short distance down the corridor, relieved again when the captive servants followed her, separating out from the rebels who had clustered around Charlotte and the count.

She raised her voice slightly so they could all hear her. “I came here to rescue you, and if you want to walk away now, I understand. You don’t owe me anything.”

“The mountain kingdom owes us!” a discontented voice shouted from the back.

Gwen nodded. “I agree. And that’s why if you walk away now, I’ll understand. But the reality is that while you’re freed from that room, you’re still trapped here in a kingdom controlled by Celandine. All of us are. If any of us are going to be truly free, then we need to remove her from the throne. And I’m hoping you’ll be willing to help with that.”

“So that you can sit on it instead!” another scornful voice called from the middle of the crowd.

Miriam whipped around, glaring. “You all know what she told me! The princess isn’t like her mother. She’s not only going to free us, she’s going to send us off with compensation.” She turned back to Gwen. “Right?”

“Absolutely!” Gwen said firmly, remembering the chests of gold in her mother’s hidden room. “I even have a way to get you home.” If she had to fly each of them across the mountains individually, she would do it.

Murmurs swept through the group at that, everyone turning to their neighbor and exchanging whispers. Gwen didn’t try to catch individual words, instead listening to the sound as a whole, tracking its mood. It had started with astonishment and a tone of disbelief, but as they conferred, she heard it change. A note of determination crept in before taking over completely. Alma had said they were waiting for their chance, and apparently she had been right. The captives were ready to seize the opportunity offered to them.

“How dangerous is this task you want from us?” Alma asked.

“Hopefully not dangerous at all,” Gwen said. “But it’s something you know best how to do. If I tried it on my own…” She grimaced. “The queen planned for this afternoon to be a grand spectacle of her power. We’re planning to turn it into something else, but we still need the grand spectacle. We need to show the courtiers and the people of the city that we are just as capable and powerful as the old queen.”

“You want us to set up the ballroom?” Alma sounded disbelieving.

Gwen nodded. “Down the corridor, you’ll see the rebels gathered. They’re going to keep the guards and the queen occupied, so I’m hoping there won’t be anyone to disturb your efforts. In fact, it’s likely the guards aren’t even keeping up with the constantly changing situation. If they see you working and preparing in your previous roles, they won’t even realize anything is wrong. I don’t expect them to harass you.”

“And after we’ve finished?” Alma pressed. “Will we be expected to prepare your evening meal when all of this is over?”

“If this day ends with me as queen, you will be free,” Gwen said firmly. “It will take a bit longer to distribute the compensation, and even longer to ferry anyone who wants to go across the mountains. But I’ll do it as quickly as is possible in the middle of everything else.” She drew a breath, feeling like she was taking a risk. “And if anyone wants to remain in the mountain kingdom—either in the city or in a paid role in the palace—I would love for you to stay. By choice or not, this has been your home for years now, and I won’t take it from you forcibly like your last home was taken. From this point on, each of you gets to choose.”

She gazed over the faces, reading in the expressions that she’d said the right thing.

Alma rubbed her hands together, her face setting into lines of determination. “All right then, we have work to do.”

No one argued.

“Well done,” Easton murmured in her ear, his approval warming her. “You sound like a queen.”

She threw him a grateful look, but there was no time for a proper conversation. The same was true with Charlotte, although from the look on her face and the brief squeeze she gave Gwen’s hand, everything had gone smoothly on their end as well. The captives were ushered out the back way, some of the rebels going with them.

When she walked through the door and saw the two guards back in position, her heart seized. But they grinned jauntily and gave her an elaborate bow, and she relaxed again. They weren’t the old guards but rebels wearing guard uniforms. Charlotte had even managed to find rebels who looked similar to the men who had previously held the post.

Once they were all out of the basement level, Miriam approached Gwen with a grin she’d never seen the captive woman wear before. Something had changed in her, and she was no longer tentative in Gwen’s presence.

“Come on, then, Your Majesty, we have lots of work to do.” She gave Gwen an exaggerated look of appraisal, running her eyes up and down her body and wrinkling her nose. Four women stood behind her, two of them chuckling.

“And you’re with us, Your Majesty.” An older woman and two men appeared beside Easton.

He looked at Gwen in alarm. “I’m happy to help with the preparations of the throne room in any way I can, but I’m staying with Gwen.”

Alma stepped up, tutting and shaking her head.

“The preparations you need aren’t in the throne room. If we’re putting on a show, don’t forget that you two are the star players. If you want to present an image of glory and power, it’s going to take a lot of work.”

Gwen flushed, wanting to protest, but when she looked down at herself, the protest died unspoken. She had slept the night in the stables and before that in her ruined room. She probably had feathers in her hair, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d washed. It had definitely been before the manure. With horror, she looked across at Easton’s dirty, disheveled appearance. He hadn’t spent hours in a state of total panic and cold sweat in the recent past, so what did Gwen herself look like?

Easton looked back at her, his expression bemused but his eyes laughing. When she held his gaze, his look turned soft and loving, his message clear. He didn’t care what she looked like.

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