Page 69 of Degradation

“It’s too dangerous, Your Highness,” Philip said.

“I won’t dissuade you,” I said. “However, it would be wise for one of you to remain to prevent Garron, Darian, and Daemon from rushing into a potentially dangerous situation when they return and find us absent.”

Liam closed his eyes.

I could feel his frustration, so I stood on my toes to kiss his chin. He caught me up in his arms and kissed me soundly, pouring all his fear and need into it. When he finally released me, I was breathless and thoroughly distracted by his desire for me.

“Eadric, you should remain,” Liam said. “If the queen and her people took Edmund for his pretty face, yours will surely attract their attention.”

“As will yours,” I said. “Your servant clothing does little to detract from your handsome face.”

“He can remain with the carriage,” Philip said. “Nearby but easily overlooked. We must hurry.”

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

The sun satlow behind the palace’s towering white spires as I stood in the courtyard amidst the throng of nobles. An occasional murmur whispered through the silence but nothing more. Their collective fear and anger grew thicker around me, adding to the increasing tingle of danger.

Ahead, the loop of a single rope swayed on the gallows.

The queen, her representatives, and Pogwid had yet to appear. However, no one voiced a complaint. We simply waited.

Beside me, Philip conveyed the picture of calm nobility, despite the concern he’d expressed on the way here about the required attendance of the nobles. Usually, such a thing was done to set an example, but he wasn’t certain what example was being set. Did the queen know that a noble had been hiding Pogwid under her nose? Was she sending a message to nobles to turn their casters in? Or had she learned the royal heirs had returned?

To our right, a door set in the courtyard’s white stone wall opened. A procession of people filed out. Pogwid walked in their midst. Hands and feet bound, she moved with her head high and a good deal of defiance in her expression.

It wasn’t until she reached the gallows and stood above us that I saw the blood staining her dress and the wraps on her hands. My gut clenched in horror at what they’d done.

They’d taken her fingers. Or at least some of them.

The ever-present tingle of warning, which I’d grown accustomed to over the last few days, exploded within me.

A figure swathed in an embroidered red veil regally joined a man on the platform behind Pogwid. I could feel her—a pulse of energy that demanded an answer—her anger, her hate.

I checked the lid on my well. It was as close to closed as I dared.

“People of Turre,” the man called out. “Caster Pogwid stands before you, accused of treason against the crown.”

“HA!” Pogwid barked.

A garbled string of sounds spilled from her mouth, and I realized they’d taken her tongue. Mere hours had passed since I saw Henry’s mentor. How had they done so much to her in such a span of time? Fear started to boil under the lid as I thought of Edmund and Brandle…taken for their handsome faces. Would they fare differently than Pogwid?

I looked at the woman who’d helped me and swallowed hard.

Me. I’d caused this.

My gaze shifted to the queen. My hand trembled against Philip’s arm.

No. Not me. The queen.

I could feel her regard sweeping the crowd, searching. She suspected…something. It was buried deep. To find it, I would need to touch my power to hers.

Too dangerous.

Yet, my fear for Brandle and Edmund had me considering it. If she’d handled Pogwid to this extent simply for being a strong caster, what would she do if she thought Brandle and Edmund were the princes?

Philip’s hand closed over mine and patted it lightly.

He was terrified that I would do something to give us away. He didn’t fear his death but mine. Brandle had impressed my importance upon the man.

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