Ash Princess (Ash Princess Trilogy #1)(61)

“We got word from a spy in the Earth Mine,” Heron says after a second. “The Theyn halved their rations and they’ve begun sending children into the mines to work earlier than ever. Some as young as eight. No word from the other mines yet, but it’s hard to imagine it’s only the Earth Mine.”

“Punishments for the riot?” I ask.

“Yes and no,” Blaise says, voice heavy and tired. I wonder when the last time he really slept was. “That didn’t help matters, and it’s certainly the reason for the rations, but the children…The Kalovaxians are running out of slaves to work, and gem turnout isn’t what it used to be. It’s probably another reason for the attack on the Vecturia Islands. They need more slaves.”

I can’t help but think about Goraki and how the Kalovaxians burned the entire country and left when they ran out of resources. I wonder if Blaise is thinking the same thing. We’re running out of time.

My stomach clenches. “And the Theyn gave the order as part of his inspections,” I guess out loud. They don’t contradict me. “Believe me, I would like nothing better than to kill him tonight, but it would be a foolish move and it’ll only make things worse when we fail.”

“Are you sure that’s what makes you hesitate?” Artemisia asks, her acidic voice so quiet I almost don’t hear her.

“Artemisia!” Heron hisses.

“No, it’s fine,” I say, taking a step closer to Artemisia’s wall, matching her tone. I can’t show doubt; I can’t show fear. “If you have something you would like to say, Artemisia, please don’t hide it. I’m very interested in what you think.”

I’m greeted only by silence, but that doesn’t make me feel any better, because I have doubts. Not about my loyalties, exactly, but in myself. These are people who took everything from me—my mother, my country, my mind. Ever since Ampelio died, I’ve been waiting for the moment I’ll be able to take my revenge and bury Thora for good. Now that moment is here and I’m not sure I can really do it.



* * *



—

After a lunch alone—or as alone as I ever am—in my rooms, I hear a quick, soft knock on my door. It isn’t Crescentia’s melodic knock or the forceful rapping of the guards, and I can’t imagine who else it might be. Hoa is clearing my lunch plates, so I go to answer it.

Warily I open the door, only to find no one on the other side. I lean out and peer down the hall in either direction, but the hall is empty. I almost close the door again before I notice the rolled piece of parchment on the ground in front of the door.

I pick it up and bring it back inside with me, closing the door firmly behind me. The letter is sealed with S?ren’s sigil of a drakkon breathing fire, so I slip it into the pocket of my dress.

“It must have been the wind,” I tell Hoa.

She doesn’t seem to believe me, though. When she leaves the room a moment later, balancing the tray of leftover lunch food in her arms, she gives me a suspicious glance. I smile at her like it’s any other day, but I don’t think it fools her.

Not for the first time, I wonder how she sees me. She’s known me since I was six years old, she’s held me when I’ve cried, she used to tuck me into bed. I don’t trust her—I think the part of me that trusts people has been irreparably broken—but I do love her, in a way. It’s a shadow of the love I feel for my mother, roughly the same shape but without the color or warmth. Hoa looks at me sometimes like she’s seeing her own shadow of a ghost. But I can’t ask her anything about it, and she certainly couldn’t tell me anything if I did.

When the door clicks shut behind her, I take the letter from my pocket and break the seal with my pinky nail before unrolling it.

“The Prinz?” Blaise asks.

I don’t answer him except to nod. S?ren’s handwriting is a sloppy, rushed scrawl that makes it difficult to read.

Dear Thora,

I dreamt of you last night and when I woke this morning, I could have sworn your scent lingered in the air around me. It’s been like this all week. You haunt my mind both sleeping and waking. I keep wanting to share my thoughts with you, or ask you for your opinion on things. Usually I look forward to time away from court, when it’s only my crew and me at sea. There are no pressures, no formalities, no games apart from those played with cards and ale. But now I would give anything to be back in that godsforsaken palace because you would be with me.

The short of it is: I miss you terribly, and I’m wondering if you miss me as well.

Erik has been teasing me relentlessly about you, though I suspect he’s a bit envious. If I were a better man, I would encourage him to pursue you and I would let you go, because I know he’s a safer choice for you. We both know what my father’s wrath would be if he learned how much I care for you. I’m not selfless enough to step aside, though if you asked me to, I would certainly try. You could ask me for the ocean itself and I would find a way to give it to you.

The seas are smooth and if everything goes as easily as it should, I’ll be back before the new moon with good tidings that should make my father a very happy man. If you would like to send me a letter, and I hope that you do, leave it where you found this one and trust that it will find me.

Yours,

S?ren