If they ever did, Emily thought. She contemplated the possibilities for a long moment. They might have wondered if Flower was a double-agent right from the start.
She looked down at her hands, wondering why it bothered her. Cat and Jade would have layered all sorts of compulsion spells over Flower, just to make sure that she couldn’t willingly betray them…perhaps that was why it bothered her. Compulsion spells had always bothered her, once she’d realized how easy they were to cast. Or perhaps it was the grim awareness that Flower would never be allowed to live. She’d be executed as soon as she outlived her usefulness. It felt unduly harsh.
And she betrayed Tam and hundreds of others, Emily told herself, sharply. What the hell does she deserve?
Cat smiled at her. It did good things to his face. “We have a plan now, do we not? And allies?”
“Yeah,” Emily agreed. She picked up one of the pieces of paperwork and held it out to him. “And seeing you’re here, you can start checking my work.”
Cat’s smile grew wider. “And there I was thinking of something else we could be doing,” he said. He nodded to the simmering cauldrons. “How long until you have to add the next set of ingredients?”
“Twenty minutes,” Emily said, glancing at the clock. “But I have to tend to each cauldron at five-minute intervals. Fun will have to wait.”
“Groan,” Cat said. He winked at her, then took the paperwork. “Your handwriting is awful.”
“I blame Professor Lombardi,” Emily said. “He kept hitting my hand with a ruler.”
“I don’t blame him,” Cat said. “You do realize that you’re going to have to write all this out again.”
“Of course not,” Emily said. She stuck out her tongue. “You’re going to write it out again.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
JADE HAD HOPED THEY’D BE READY to move–either against Alicia’s mansion or the Tower itself–within a week, but Emily had suspected that was unduly optimistic. Actually having a plan–and allies–had done wonders for Jade’s attitude, yet Cat was insistent that they couldn’t risk moving too early. It was nearly ten days before they had enough of a spy network in place that they felt they could risk trying to sneak into Alicia’s mansion, after she returned from the castle. Lord Burrows, it seemed, was nowhere in evidence. He appeared to spend most of his time in the garrison.
Which probably means he’s ignoring what his wife is doing with the king, Emily thought, feeling a flicker of sympathy for the unfortunate man. Lord Burrows was more interested in men than women, Alassa had told her, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t become a laughingstock if his fellows discovered he was being cuckolded by the king himself. He must be terrified that someone will put two and two together and deduce the truth.
She contemplated the prospects as she and Cat strode down the Royal Mile, Jade following just far enough behind them to give a semblance of privacy without making a mockery of the conventions. The Royal Mile was brightly lit, even as darkness fell over the rest of the city; noblemen, city councillors and wealthy merchants–and their children–mingled freely. She caught sight of a handful of young blades entering a tavern and grimaced, feeling sorry for the management. The young blades, scions of minor noblemen, wouldn’t be punished if they drank the house dry, molested the waitresses and wrecked the tables before they left. It would be a brave or foolish guardsman who’d arrest a nobleman.
And Randor wouldn’t want to make enemies of their parents, she reminded herself. He doesn’t need to alienate more supporters.
She frowned as she heard a pair of broadsheet criers making their way up the streets, shouting about news direct from the king himself. Their papers would be full of lies, she was sure, although it was important to know what the king wanted them to believe. The Levellers had only just started their counter-propaganda campaign, but the king was already promising harsh punishments to anyone caught with one of their pamphlets. Emily couldn’t think of anything more likely to give the pamphlets credence than dire threats to anyone who dared read one.
“There’s more food on the table in there than there is in the entire docklands,” Cat muttered, nodding towards an upscale restaurant. “And the guards make sure that no one gets in and out with the news.”
Emily nodded, tersely. It was amusing to see that the craze for fancy food like pizzas and burgers had yet to abate, even in Alexis, but…Cat was right. The diners were gorging themselves on enough food to feel a dozen families for a week. Randor needed to keep the nobility happy, she knew, but…he should be taking more care of the poor. A few rumors about the rich eating themselves silly while the poor starved should add to the growing social unrest.
Her eyes narrowed as she spotted a pair of soldiers making their way down the street. They were unusually polite, stepping out of the way of older women and nodding politely to young girls instead of pushing the women into the gutter and leering–or worse–at the girls. Emily guessed they were smart enough to know their superiors would hang them out to dry if someone important filed a complaint. But that wasn’t enough to keep them from demanding a chit from anyone who didn’t look wealthy or powerful or both. The king presumably wanted to keep the commoners out of the Royal Mile.
The streets started to empty as they moved further down the road, towards the small collection of mansions. Each of the barons owned a mansion in the city–Emily wondered, absently, what had happened to hers–and they were, technically, part of the barony. A handful of armed guards in house livery stood outside each of the gates, looking surprisingly unsure of themselves. There was no way they could defend the mansions for long if the king decided he wanted to take them. Emily suspected it was just a matter of time until he did.
“There,” Cat whispered. “Are you sure you can get in without us?”
“I think so,” Emily said, although she wasn’t as sure as she wanted to pretend. She had plenty of experience sneaking into more dangerous places, but getting caught breaking into Alicia’s mansion would be embarrassing. Besides, there was no way she could let them arrest her. “I won’t be long.”
“Just be careful,” Jade warned. His gaze flicked to the mansion. “She’s in there, somewhere.”
Emily followed his gaze and frowned. Winter Flower Mansion was huge, almost obscenely so. It was a blocky mass, strikingly ugly; she couldn’t help wondering just what the architect had been drinking when they’d drawn the original design. Alicia’s father had added a whole set of wings, paying out vast sums of money–and threatening landholders–to make sure he had the largest residence in the city. The walls–enclosing a large garden–only made it worse. Alicia and her husband had to feel a little alone in the giant building, no matter how many servants they’d brought with them. Emily doubted they’d have many servants–or armsmen. The king wouldn’t be happy with anyone bringing a small army into the city after what happened last time.
The walls aren’t the main defenses, she reminded herself, as she reached out with her senses to probe for magic. I have to get through the wards.
“Don’t hesitate to teleport out if you’re in trouble,” Cat said. “Have you got everything?”
Emily nodded. “I think so,” she said. “Let’s go.”
The walls seemed larger, somehow, as they walked around the edge of the estate. There were a handful of guard towers scattered along the walls, but they were empty…as far as she could tell. They also seemed to be purely decorative, designed more to look impressive than actually be impressive. Emily was surprised Randor hadn’t ordered them knocked down after Baron Gold had been beheaded for high treason. He must have thought it was better to let whoever held the mansion develop a false sense of security than impose his will on the city.