Protect the Prince (Crown of Shards #2)(126)

I grinned at him a moment longer, then turned my attention back to the plaza. “See? The others are in position, and I am perfectly safe. Now, we just have to wait and see if anyone shows up.”

In addition to hearing whispers that another Blair might still be alive, Xenia and her many sources had started spreading their own rumor in return—that any Blair who came to this plaza tonight would be taken in and guaranteed safety at Seven Spire palace.

Xenia and her network had been spreading the rumor for about two weeks, and my friends and I had ventured here tonight to see if anyone would take the bait.

Paloma eyed the people moving through the plaza. “Even if this woman, this supposed Blair, does show up, how are we going to pick her out of the crowd? There are hundreds of people here. We might not even see her.”

“I don’t have to see her.” I tapped my nose. “My magic will let me sense hers.”

“But you don’t even know what she is,” Paloma pointed out. “She could be a magier or a master or a morph. Or she might just be a mutt like you are. It might not even be a woman. Maybe it’s a man.”

I shrugged. “Magic is magic. I can always smell it, no matter what kind or who it belongs to. Besides, if there’s even the smallest bit of truth to the rumor . . .”

My voice trailed off, and a hard knot of emotion suddenly clogged my throat. That damn hope was rising up in me again, trying to trap me with its warm, honeyed sweetness, but I pushed it back down.

“Then that means at least one of the Blairs, one of your cousins, is still alive.” Paloma gave me a sympathetic look, then shook her head, dismissing the promising thought just like I had. “But you still need to be careful. It wouldn’t surprise me if Maeven started this rumor to lure you out of the palace so she and the rest of the Bastard Brigade can try to kill you again.”

Maeven was the bastard sister of the Mortan king and the one who had orchestrated the Seven Spire massacre. She was also the leader of the Bastard Brigade, a group of bastard relatives of the king and the other legitimate Mortan royals. Over the past several months, Maeven and her Bastard Brigade had tried to kill me numerous times, although I had managed to thwart most of their schemes and stay alive—so far.

“You might be right,” I admitted. “Maeven is certainly clever and devious enough to float a rumor about another Blair to get me here, but I have to learn for myself whether it’s true. And if it is a plot on her part, then we’ll kill her assassins, just like we have before.”

“And if it’s not another Mortan plot?” Paloma asked.

“Then we’ll find out exactly who this person is, where they’ve been, and how they’ve managed to stay alive. And especially why they didn’t come to Seven Spire after I took the throne and decreed that Blair survivors should return to the palace.”

Part of me was happy that one of my cousins had potentially survived the slaughter, but part of me was also dreading the family reunion. I was only queen because all the other Blairs were dead. What if this mysterious cousin had been higher in line for the throne? What if they had a better claim on the crown? What if they had more magic than I did?

And if any of that were true, then came the biggest question of all—should I step aside?

That was what protocol and tradition would dictate I do. But what was best for Bellona? Because I couldn’t imagine anyone out there—Blair or otherwise—who wanted to protect my kingdom and her people more than I did.

I hadn’t wanted to be queen, but now that I had finally secured my position, I didn’t want to give it up just because someone else had had the good fortune to survive the massacre. If I was being brutally honest, I also didn’t want to give up all the power and privileges that came with being the queen of Bellona. It was heady and thrilling to be respected and even feared, especially since I had spent all those long years being the royal standin, the royal puppet, at Seven Spire. Perhaps that made me petty and selfish, just like Vasilia had been.

But most of all, I didn’t want to give up the throne because of how it would impact my chances of finally taking my revenge on Maeven and the Mortan king. I wanted to make them suffer for what they’d done to the Blairs, to my family, to me, and I had a far better chance of getting that revenge as queen, rather than going back to just being Lady Everleigh.

“Well, I hope this person shows up soon,” Paloma grumbled, breaking into my turbulent thoughts. “I don’t want to stand around in the cold all night.”

She stamped her feet and pulled her forest-green cloak a little tighter around her body. Autumn had already come and gone, and winter was quickly taking hold in the Spire Mountains. In addition to the impending snow tonight, the wind had a bitter chill that promised that even colder, harsher weather was on its way.

“Don’t worry. Xenia and her spies said to meet at this fountain at six o’clock, and it’s that time now. Someone should show up soon.”

Paloma sighed and stamped her feet again, but the two of us held our position in the alley, and Serilda, Cho, and Sullivan remained vigilant in their spots around and above the plaza.

The sun might be setting, but fluorestones were flaring to life inside the surrounding buildings, as well as the streetlamps that dotted the walkways lining the plaza. The soft, golden lights must have made the goods look even more attractive because the merchants were still doing a brisk business, and it was hard to pick out anyone suspicious, much less a familiar face.