A weathered scroll, wrapped in a simple slip of silk.
I snatched the map and shut the box, tucking it back into the crevice and then the brick. I stepped out from behind the tapestry, clutching the one thing that would save the world.
See Derrick? I’m going to save us. Look at me now.
I unfurled the map and sucked in a sharp breath. It was everything I knew it would be. A map bordering the central plains and the Red Mountains, small black squares dotting the range. All of the measurements precise, a number next to each, starting with the Red Gate.
The Red Tunnels and the key to winning our war.
I rolled the scroll back up with the key, sticking both into the empty sheath at my thigh.
The doors behind me were thrown open; a clap like thunder sounded as they hit the wall. The whole room quaked in response.
I dropped my skirts and my skin plummeted to ice.
“Well, well,” a familiar voice drawled, nasal and sharp, “what have we got here?”
I whirled around.
Mira blocked the entry with the king at her side. The two guards who’d let me in stood at their back, and there was a handful more behind them.
“Why don’t you tell us what you took?”
My gaze flitted from the mage to Blayne, and I swallowed, trying to ignore the frantic pounding in my chest. They couldn’t know. They couldn’t possibly know.
“I-I don’t know what you are talking about.” My fingers were clammy and blood rushed to my head.
“Oh, but you do.” The head of Blayne’s regiment took a step forward, cackling. “I just didn’t think you would be foolish enough to reveal your hand so soon.”
“I didn’t take anything!” I did my best to look annoyed, folding my arms and lifting my chin in defiance. “You are mad. You’ve always hated me—”
“And that’s what they all thought.” Mira’s eyes gleamed in the early morning sun. “They all thought I was wrong. Didn’t they, your majesty?”
My glance shot to Blayne.
“Please explain yourself, Ryiah.” The young king wasn’t looking at me like a friend.
“I only came here to look for a bracelet.” I let indignation and confusion sweep my tone. “I don’t know what she is implying.”
“At dawn?” The head mage snorted. “She’s lying to you, Blayne. I told you all along.”
“If you have nothing to hide,” he said coldly, “you’ll submit to a search.”
“Gladly!” I spat the word with as much indignation as I could, but my heart was racing.
Mira charged forward and tore off my cloak, thrusting her hand in every possible inch. Then she screeched and threw it to the floor.
“See?” My voice was shaky as I clutched my nightdress to my chest. “I don’t have whatever it is y-you are looking for.”
“I’m not done.” The mage snatched my wrist and called on two of her guards.
“This is indecent!” I struggled against their grip. “You can’t do this!”
There was a hushed collective of silence. Then: “Search her.”
The woman took a menacing step forward, and the guards tightened their hold.
“Let me go!” My magic bubbled to the surface like an overflowing fountain, fighting, cresting to break. “Let me go!”
“Get your hands off my wife!”
Darren. I stopped breathing as my husband shoved his way past the guards and spun on his brother. “What is this?”
“I summoned you here because there is something you need to see. Something to do with your wife.”
The prince laughed. He threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing around the hall like a chorus. “Not this again.”
“I didn’t want to believe it either.”
“Because it’s not true!” I fought Mira’s grip. “She’s lying!”
Darren’s gaze returned to my guard and his hands balled into fists. “I’ll give you two seconds to step away from my wife,” he growled, “before I slit your throats.”
I was released; I took a sharp, staggering breath. Breathe. Control. You can still find a way out of this.
The prince cut across the room, and I took a hitching breath.
“Darren—”
“Ryiah.” He shook his head vehemently and pulled me into his arms. “You don’t have to explain.”
“She’s had it in for me forever.” I clung to his shoulders, hating myself. “You know what she’s like!”
“I do.” Darren turned back to his brother. His whole body radiated rage. “This has gone on long enough, Blayne. Derobe that woman and toss her in the dungeons. I am done having Mira slander my wife.”
“Brother—”
“No!” Darren’s voice rose to a shout. “Do you have any idea what Ryiah has been through? Imagine if Derrick had been me, Blayne. This is unacceptable.”
“Brother.” The king’s cool eyes flashed. “Do you know whose idea it was to give you the key to the Red Tunnels?”
I felt the prince stiffen.
No.
“It was Mira’s.” Blayne paused as the truth sunk in. “Do you recognize this room?”
Darren’s pulse hammered against my own. And then it stopped.
“I don’t suppose you told her there was a map.”
“You gave me the key,” Darren’s throat was thick with emotion, “to test Ryiah.”