Incendiary (Hollow Crown #1)(97)

“Leo,” I say.

“Thank the Six Heavens,” he says, lowering his forehead to mine. “I’m so sorry, Ren. I’m so sorry we had to do it this way.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. But if the blade had been poisoned. If they left it in and it got infected. He acted as quickly as he could even if it hurt.

I want to thank him for tending to me when the cowardly medic would not, but Méndez rushes back in.

“How are you feeling?” Méndez asks, his voice hard despite the tightness of his lips. Is he rattled because I’m alive or because he should’ve seen the attack?

“I’m well, my justice,” I lie.

“You have a hole through one of your extremities,” Leo mutters, returning to the bandage. “I do not believe that qualifies as well.”

Méndez frowns and snaps, “Now is not the time for your tone, Leonardo.”

Leo mutters an apology.

My mind is racing. Margo is somewhere in the dungeons, and if she’s here, then that means that the others are, too. I’d wager my life on it. The only question is, how many others are there? Did they see me save the king? Would any of them understand? That I was losing a battle in order to win the war? Sayida flashes through my mind. I knew I saw her earlier. I knew it, but I blamed it on my traitorous memories. Traitorous. Traitor. Is there anyone who believes me to be anything but?

There’s something sour on my tongue that forces me to remain silent.

“Drink this,” Leo says, offering a brown glass bottle whose bitter contents remind me of rotting fish. “It’s a sedative to numb the pain.”

I have to get up. That’s the only reason I nod and let him tip the wretched liquid down my throat. Almost instantly, some of the pain subsides.

Méndez turns to the medic who is pressed against the walls. “Did you test for poison, Arsenál?”

“No traces. She’s no worse for the wear,” Arsenál proclaims. “I am given to understand her kind have a high threshold for pain.”

I sneer at him. “Do you want me to show you how much pain I can tolerate?”

“Easy,” Leo tells me, careful not to touch me but guiding me back to the bed.

Méndez is wilder than I’ve ever seen him. His dress clothes are stained with my blood and his eyes have deep shadows. Have they always been there, or did a part of me want to see something else?

“Take Renata to her rooms, and don’t come back down until the festival begins.”

Leo looks stricken, as if he can’t believe the orders. I tug on his hand. Let him know that this is the way it has to be. He lowers his face. “Yes, my justice.”

“What of the woman?” I ask carefully.

Méndez tugs on the ends of his jacket. “The assassin is in solitary. Every single person within the palace is to be questioned. She has not claimed an affiliation, though I suspect her to be one of the Whispers.” He turns his suspicious eyes in my direction, looks at the wound, which is still bleeding through the bandage. “Did you recognize her?”

Her name is Margolina Bellén, and she’s an Illusionári of the Whispers’ Rebellion. Her mother and father were killed during a raid in a village outside of Citadela Riomar. They were drowned when they refused to reveal where their children were hidden. Margo survived by digging a hole beneath a jetty of rocks along the coast and fed on the crabs that burrowed in alongside her. A week later, half-starved and dehydrated, she was found by the Whispers and given a home.

“No,” I say, never wavering from his salt-gray stare. Because I truly hadn’t recognized her, not with that illusion that darkened her hair and changed her face. It was the eyes, the weapon, the way I’ve seen her dance that gave her away in the end.

“You saved the king’s life,” Méndez tells me. “On behalf of the royal family, the Sun Festival’s ball tonight will be dedicated to you. All of Puerto Leones will know what you have done.”

Revulsion slams into my gut. I picture myself paraded in front of the kingdom as the example of what Moria should be—servants to the crown. Bodies meant to be sacrificed.

Méndez chuckles nervously. “She’s so honored she can’t speak. Renata, show your thanks.”

“I was doing my duty,” I say, finally. Tears sting at my eyes because this is all wrong. I shouldn’t have saved the king, and I shouldn’t be honored by this. But Nuria was right. Had I not protected the king, it would have caused more bloodshed for innocent Moria.

Méndez seems to relax when I utter the words. “For now, all household staff is to report to my study for questioning, including you two.”

“But, my justice,” the medic says, “I would never—”

Justice Méndez has the kind of stare that could render any man still. “Then you have nothing to fear.”

“Yes, my justice.” Arsenál bows so low I’m surprised his weight doesn’t push him forward.

“Be ready for tonight, Renata. Everyone at the festival will see your power, the power of the king and the justice, and those against us will shake in fear.”

“She’s lost a lot of blood, my justice,” Leo starts to plead. “Lord Las Rosas—”

He dismisses the name with a flick of his hand. “Not him. She will use her powers on the assassin.”