Horror slid into Madinia’s eyes as she stared at me. “What do you mean? That’s how we’re getting out.”
“Not anymore. The king filled it in.”
“What will we do?” To her credit, the words weren’t dripping panic. It seemed to be a genuine question, and the frown on her face told me she wanted to talk options.
“I don’t know.” My voice broke. Admitting such a thing when Madinia had put her faith in me…when they’d all put their faith in me…
“You have some scheme up your sleeve, I know you do. Prisca, I want to help.”
As usual, her voice was haughty. Because Madinia wasn’t used to asking for anything. Even when we wanted something from the queen, it was usually Lisveth who asked.
I opened my mouth to snarl at her, and something moved in the corner of my eye. I turned, feeling Madinia do the same next to me.
Davis stood outside the stables. He lifted his hand in a wave, that easy smile on his face as if we were all good friends. I glanced at Madinia, who was struggling not to curl her lip at him.
“You want to help?”
She sighed. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Madinia didn’t like it.
Within moments after I’d waved back at Davis, Madinia and I were standing next to him, gazing at hundreds of horseless carriages. It hadn’t taken more than the mere suggestion from Madinia for him to offer us a tour.
“As you can see, this is where we keep them,” he murmured, smiling at Madinia.
To her credit, she beamed brainlessly at him. Davis’s eyes widened slightly, before crinkling at the corners.
If I hadn’t known that he’d terrorized at least three of the women I’d once shared a room with, I might have believed the almost embarrassed way he scuffed his feet.
Not to mention, Auria had told me that the day I was poisoned—when half the court had seen Lorian hauling a drunk woman back to her room—she’d seen Davis wink at the “prince.”
I wanted Davis dead.
Lorian’s voice echoed in my head.
“Just weeks away from your village, and you’re already turning into a little savage.”
“How are the carriages controlled?” Madinia murmured. “It must require a lot of power to ensure they travel where you wish them to go.”
Davis’s chest puffed, and he shot her a grin. “I’ll show you.”
Satisfaction tempered my wrath, and we trailed after him, deeper into the huge space. At the back of the room was a door I’d assumed was a closet. He opened it to reveal a city map so large, it stretched across an entire wall.
“Wow,” Madinia marveled. Davis was ignoring me, which was exactly what I’d hoped for. Taking a step closer, I attempted to memorize as many details as I could. My breath caught. The map was so incredibly detailed it was like a work of art—encompassing every part of the city. On the map, tiny replicas of the carriages were fastened, currently moving as if alive.
The king’s favorites enjoyed magic like this every day, while even our village healers were stripped of most of their magic. Magic that could have saved lives.
Madinia placed her hand on Davis’s arm, leaning close. “How does it work?”
Davis held one of his hands over the corner of the map where a stone lay on top of the parchment. I went still. It wasn’t an oceartus stone—it was a dull yellow color—but the stone glowed slightly, and Davis reached for one of the tiny carriages positioned at our backs. He nudged it with one finger, until the carriage was outside the castle gates.
“Come with me,” he said.
We followed him out to the gates, where the carriage was waiting. The nudge of his finger had moved it into place.
Ah. I glanced at Madinia. Thankfully, she wasn’t an idiot.
“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” she asked, her voice light. “How do the carriages know when to stop for people and other carriages and horses?”
“That’s part of my father’s magic. He gave the carriages a level of sentience. Just enough to ensure those within the carriages are protected.”
“And as someone who spends a lot of time in those carriages, I appreciate that.” Madinia’s laugh sounded like a hundred tiny bells all ringing at once. “But what stops someone from sneaking into that map room and making a carriage go wherever they like?” She bit her lip as if genuinely worried about such a possibility.
“You don’t need to concern yourself with that,” Davis said. “Not only is the map secured by some of the king’s most trusted guards, but other than my father, I’m the only one who can change the carriage routes.”
Madinia linked her arm through his. “Now, that’s a relief.”
I cleared my throat, and Madinia turned that lifeless smile on me. “Setella has an errand to run in the city,” she said. “But you’ll entertain me, won’t you, Davis?”
I’d always wondered how some women managed to purr their words in a way that made males lose their senses. If we lived through the next few days, perhaps I could convince Madinia to teach me.
Davis gave her a dark look that would have worried me if I didn’t know Madinia could burn him alive with just a thought.
Actually, maybe that was what I should really be concerned about. I gave Madinia a warning look, and she smirked at me, turning to walk back toward the carriages with Davis.
“Where are you going, Setella?” a voice called.
I sighed. I’d been so close. I turned to find Pelopia and Alcandre strolling toward me.
“I thought I might go to the market,” I lied. Hopefully they wouldn’t ask to come with me.
Pelopia opened her mouth, but her eyes heated as she glanced over my shoulder. I turned to look. Lorian was walking out of the castle, surrounded by several men dressed in Gromalian colors. Marth was one of them. It was strange seeing his expression so distant, his eyes so bored. As I watched, he waited for Lorian to get several steps ahead and then winked at one of the maids, who gave him a saucy grin.
Lorian turned, giving Marth a hard stare, and I barely suppressed my own grin.
“I heard about how the prince attended to you when you were sick, Setella,” Pelopia murmured.
I didn’t know what to say to that. Any denial would likely just stoke her curiosity further.
“Don’t worry,” she said when I didn’t reply. “I understand. He is a handsome devil, with his long red hair and that roguish smirk.”
My smile froze.
I turned to the man whose hair was neither red nor long. Lorian sent us a wink, playing the part.
I understood now just why the king had allowed him to sit next to him.
He was wearing another man’s face.
But for some reason, I could only see Lorian.
Why? Was it because I’d known him before the charm he must be wearing worked?
No. Tibris and Vicer could still see my darker eyes.
Was it because Lorian was a hybrid? I needed to ask Tibris what he saw when he looked at the Gromalian prince.
My pulse thumped as I stared at him, putting the pieces into place. This was how he’d been trusted to go where he pleased and to do whatever he liked in the castle. Could he wear other faces if he chose?
Was the face I knew even the real Lorian?