Bitterness flooded my mouth. Because he was right. “How is Sabium storing the power? The chamber we saw only had a few stones in it, compared to how large this kingdom is. He must have a way to leach the power from those stones and use it himself.”
“He does. But it’s not in this castle. We’ve had those stones followed time and time again when they’re moved from the villages. Each time, the priestess disappears in various places.”
“He can’t be siphoning the power stone by stone.” It would take too long. This was a large kingdom.
Lorian nodded. “He’s using some kind of magical artifact or device.”
“If we were to destroy it, would the power return to the people it belongs to?”
“I don’t know.” Lorian frowned. “I would like to think so, but it could be that the power goes to the person closest to it.”
My dreams of breaking open the king’s hidden cache of power, while knowing all the villagers in this kingdom would be getting what was rightfully theirs…
Those dreams turned to dust.
I nodded, moving toward the door.
Obviously, we weren’t going to talk about the vicious words we’d said to each other last night. Suddenly, I felt bone-tired. A deep exhaustion that was all-encompassing.
“Prisca.”
I glanced over my shoulder. Lorian watched me out of those dark green eyes. He snapped his mouth closed.
With a sigh, I opened the door and walked out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The queen insisted on eating lunch outside. We would have been freezing if not for one of her servants who had the power of flame. He used his magic to create large fireballs that surrounded our table, radiating heat.
I carefully kept my gaze away from Madinia, who sat across from me, miserable and pale. Lisveth had been forced to sit next to her when Caraceli insisted on sitting next to me. Dread lay in my stomach like a heavy stone.
Lisveth had given me a wide-eyed look as Caraceli hissed insults at me. The woman had taken to drinking more each night, until even the queen had noticed. Today, Caraceli had already had several cups of wine at lunch.
The queen ate quietly, murmuring to Alcandre. A few minutes into the meal, she got to her feet, ignoring the servant who used his power to pull her chair aside. “I have a headache,” she murmured. “I will see you all tonight at the ball.”
She walked away, and I focused on the stew, bread, fruit, and pastries in front of me. I wished I could haul all of this food down to the dungeons.
“I received a messenger from Katina last night,” Caraceli slurred. “Do you know what she said?”
The table had gone quiet. “What did she say?” Pelopia asked disinterestedly, poking at her meat.
“She said there was no illness, no death in her family. Her father never sent the message that made her return home. And yet the handwriting is identical to his own.” Something cold wormed through my chest.
That was exactly how I’d arranged to lure Katina home.
I wasn’t sure exactly how Vicer had done it–I didn’t think replication magic would work since the note hadn’t existed before we created it. But Caraceli was getting far too close to the truth.
“Her father is sure he didn’t send it?” Lisveth had a puzzled look on her face.
“Yes. You know what I think?” Caraceli raised her cup, drinking deep. “I think someone lured Katina back to her village so there would be a spot for Setella.”
I forced myself to raise my eyebrows, my tone mildly amused. “You think I somehow arranged for a woman I’ve never met to be lured home so I could save the queen’s life and spend my days dealing with you?”
Alcandre burst out laughing. Caraceli flushed. A part of me felt bad for making her doubt what her intuition and evidence had put together. But lives depended on my having access to the entire castle. Caraceli was close to becoming a threat.
Stumbling across Patriarch Farrow and Madinia had proven that.
“I know you can’t be trusted,” Caraceli snarled.
Across the table, Madinia let out a mocking laugh. “Obviously, when Katina left, she took your ability to reason with her. You’re disgracing yourself, and don’t think the queen hasn’t noticed. If you’re not careful, you’ll be her fire girl once more.”
Caraceli went stark-white. Madinia kept her gaze on her until she lowered her head, focusing on her food. My relief was tinged with disquiet. It was only a matter of time before Caraceli began taking her suspicions elsewhere.
I swallowed. Madinia met my eyes with a tiny nod. It was strange colluding with her.
“We need to get ready for the ball,” Madinia said.
I frowned. “It doesn’t begin for hours.”
She gave me a disdainful look. “Unless you want to have half the court gossiping because you look like you belong in one of the northern villages, you’ll need every second of those hours.”
I did belong in one of the northern villages.
Madinia’s gaze slid over my shoulder. “And look, your maids are here to collect you. Obviously, they feel the same.” She nodded at Daselis, who bowed her head.
I’d rather be in my room being ordered about by Daselis than dealing with Caraceli. Getting to my feet, I nodded to the others and followed Daselis back to my rooms.
As usual, she was silent. Erea smiled at me, gesturing at the lavender dress lying on my bed. “The seamstress was right. It’s a risky color, but it will draw attention.”
“I don’t want to draw attention.” My current circumstances felt as fragile as fine crystal. All it would take was the wrong kind of attention from the wrong person, and that crystal would shatter.
“The good kind of attention,” she said hurriedly.
I felt like I’d kicked a kitten. “Thank you.”
“Bath,” Daselis said. “Do you need help washing your hair?”
“No. I can do it.”
I got in and began washing. Daselis stuck her head in and glowered at me when I didn’t move fast enough for her liking.
As soon as I’d washed my hair, I got out of the tub and dried off, squeezing my hair with the bath sheet. Erea handed me a robe and gestured for me to sit at the vanity. If she noticed the tiny line of light hair at my scalp, she didn’t comment.
She chattered about the ball while I nodded occasionally, my mind on Thol. I’d been careful to stay away from him, as the color had been slowly fading from my hair. In his mind, I was one of the corrupt. And no matter how much he’d liked the village girl he’d known, I was his enemy now.
If we had married one day, and my corrupt status had become known, would Thol have turned on me?
My stomach churned. I knew that answer. More importantly, if we’d had children who were hybrids, would he have allowed them to be taken to the city? Or would he have fought for them?
Lorian’s dark scowl drifted into my mind. The mercenary didn’t get involved unnecessarily. But now, I suspected it wasn’t because he was cold and unfeeling like I’d once assumed. Now, I wondered if it was because he felt too much. If it was because he knew that once someone was under his protection, he would die for them.