Page 18 of The Uncrowned Prince

“Sure do.” Boden’s words were almost unrecognizable around an enormous mouthful of brown bread. Once he’d swallowed, he added, “but she’d probably remember me, too.”

Niell sat up abruptly, beginning to look a great deal more alert. “Then where might we find her?”

Perhaps he was the sort of man who needed a goal and a purpose in order to feel alive.

“Keeps a market stall selling herbs and teas and whatnot. She looks like an old lady, wears a shawl and a scarf, but she’s not so old. At least,” Boden amended, “she moves awfully fast.”

“Hmm.” Niell regarded the portrait again, his gaze narrowing. “This man appears wealthy. And I suspect an enchanted medallion would not come cheaply, even in the Empire. Perhaps,especiallyin the Empire.”

Yes, he already knew a great deal more than he should, but at least it made Karreya’s own task easier. She need not choose her words with such care if there were no secrets to betray.

“Again, you are correct.” Karreya offered him a single nod. “Mages are the property of the Empress, and their skills serve her alone. Such tokens can be bought, but only by a trusted member of the court. And they must be able to compensate the throne accordingly.”

Niell’s gray eyes suddenly left the portrait and locked on her face, appearing almost studiously blank. “Property.” Behind that bland expression, something dark and dangerous churned.

Surely Abreians had not forgotten this—it was, after all, one of the primary reasons their ancestors fled imperial shores centuries ago.

“I am here to find my father,” she said coolly, “not argue imperial law.”

“Hmm.” The darkness in his eyes retreated but did not disappear entirely. Something about that revelation had irked Niell, and revealed that he might not be as casual and care-for-nothing as he appeared. “I suggest we begin by seeking out this other medallion owner. See if she knows anything. It’s likely she would have noticed if she saw someone wearing a similar piece.”

That seemed reasonable. “Very well.” Karreya bent her head in a slight bow. “How long must we wait to do so?”

“We can try tomorrow,” Niell suggested with a shrug, “but no telling what the atmosphere in the market will be. No matter though.” His grin resurfaced, at least temporarily driving the darkness from his eyes. “It seems that at the very least, I will need to replenish my food-stuffs sooner than anticipated.”

* * *

Karreya declined his offer of a place to sleep for the night. The warehouse was not secure, and it made her uneasy to rely on someone else’s idea of safety. If they were attacked, the entire building seemed likely to come down on their heads, and escape would be made more difficult by the uncertain footing and Niell’s magical traps.

Instead, she wandered the rooftops of the city until she found a hidden corner where she set her back to a wall and dozed, always with half her senses alert to the sounds of the world around her.

She was awakened multiple times—by mice, skittering leaves, and the scritching sound made by the claws of an unwary pigeon, pecking its way across the roof in search of who even knew what.

Morning was long in coming, and Niell was even longer about whatever toilette was required to make him look so artfully disheveled. By the time he appeared at the front door of his warehouse, wearing that same black coat and knowing smirk, Karreya was feeling a great deal more irritable than usual—from hunger, impatience, and the nagging suspicion that this “alliance” was going to create far more headaches than it solved.

“Good morning,” he said, with a level of cheerfulness that made Karreya’s fingers itch to stab him. “Did you sleep well? Had breakfast?”

She glowered hard enough that he should have known better than to keep talking, but the idiot man was apparently immune to hints.

“Judging from your expression, the answer to both of those is no.” His gray eyes seemed to see right through her stubborn silence. “Have you not yet found anyone willing to change imperial coin?”

“It was the first place I visited when I arrived,” she returned sourly. “Your people refused to give me even one tenth the worth of my purse, so I declined the offer.” As if they had some sort of grudge against every imperial citizen. And yet, eventually, she would have to swallow her pride, or she would have no way to eat, travel, or pay bribes. She’d brought sufficient imperial gold to cover her needs, but at the exchange rate they offered, even cautious spending would not be enough to make it stretch.

“Easily remedied,” Niell said with a shrug and a wink as he set off down the narrow alleyway, forcing her to fall in step beside him. “If you’re willing to trust me with the contents of your purse, I can take it to the changers, tell them I swindled it off some foolish imperial citizen, and they’ll laugh and give me a fair price.”

His suggestion was both sensible and helpful, but Karreya couldn’t help arguing. “I have committed no crime against them. And neither have the imperial merchants who dock here. Why does your king do nothing about such practices when they only breed suspicion and animosity?”

Too late she remembered that his king was dead, and someone, at least, wanted to give the impression that imperial assassins were responsible.

“Before you judge our king for his failure to correct unjust practices, perhaps you should remember that your own empress chains mages and calls them property,” Niell replied, and while his expression remained mild, his tone held bite.

As if Karreya could ever forget that fact. As if she had not spent nearly every day of her life wondering… fearing… hiding from everyone, because she knew what fate awaited her if her own magic were to be discovered. Watching the downcast faces of the mage servants who went about in steel bracelets that forever chained their power—bound to another’s service for no crime but being born. Just as she would be forever bound should her grandmother learn the truth.

When her only response was silence, Niell sighed and offered her a crooked, self-deprecating grin. “Alas, you were correct—there is little point in us debating imperial law. Neither of us is likely to be in a position to change the larger injustices in the world. Perhaps we would do better to focus on the small ones wecanchange.”

It was not a lie… not quite. But something about that statement tasted of the bitterness of regret, and Karreya found her curiosity rising once more. He was an enigma, this man with his mysterious smiles, his scarred fingers, and his jagged edges, and she wanted to know more, even though it was no part of her purpose here.

Mistress Bethia would be appalled, but she was not here. Indeed, Karreya did not know how long it had been since the stern, white-haired Mistress of Discipline had spent any appreciable time outside the walls of the Enclave.

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