While royal blood soaked into the whitewashed planks of the gallows, I ran.
I didn’t bother to pack up my cart. Leaving it in the palace courtyard meant losing my good shovel, ten sacks of fertilizer, and the half dozen mulberry sprouts I’d hauled all the way up here. But hanging around in the aftermath of an assassination would be much worse for me in the long run.
I hurried towards the gate as quick as my weak knees and heavy work boots would allow, waiting to hear cries of “Stop, Master Acton!” or “Seize that gardener!” from behind me. Luckily, the red-cloaked guards hadn’t noticed my exit. Even at the best of times, a worker from the lower boroughs wasn’t worth a second glance from them or any other Perch-dwellers. Now, with the sovereigns dying at their feet, I might as well have been invisible.
Fine by me.
Before I slipped out of the courtyard, I chanced a look back. There, King Phillipe and Crown Prince Rillin Verling were splayed out in the hooked claw shadow of the gallows. Crossbow bolts stuck out from their bodies, and my stomach twisted. Grief and confusion won out over my desire to run. Were they dead? Was the assailant still here? Was the princess the next target?
I scanned the parapets lining the courtyard, searching for unseen villains. Nothing.
Then, a flash of movement to my right, a shadow disappearing into an alley. Was it the killer? Maybe. If I took the main street, I could head them off at the intersection, tackle them, bring them before the Royal Guard, and–
Stop.
I gripped the cold metal of the courtyard gates. I didn’t know who wanted to murder the two most important men in the city, but it wasn’t my responsibility to find out, much less track them down. This wasn’t my world anymore. I’d left the upper borough years ago and returned today for a job. That’s it. And I wasn’t even staying to finish it. Whatever came of this morning, it didn’t concern me. I needed to cut my losses and let the shrikes up here deal with it.
I turned my back on the courtyard and started the long journey down from the Perch.
The midday sun found me kneeling in the hard-packed dirt yard of the lower borough guildhall. Though my legs ached from the long cliffside descent, I needed to stay busy. I needed to distract myself from the memory of the king and his son on that platform.
Unfortunately, instead of taking solace in the work, I was trapped in an argument with my apprentice.
“This isn’t everyday gossip, Acton.” Maddy’s cheeks flushed beneath her wild brown hair, and her blue eyes flashed with teenage rebellion. “Things are seriously happening up there this morning!”
“I don’t care if the whole Verling Palace is on fire. We’ve got work to do.” So far, I’d managed to stop her from sharing the news. The whole city would inevitably be buzzing with news of the attack in the days to come, and I planned to hold on to my feigned ignorance for as long as I could.
“But King Phillipe is–”
“You know if you hadn’t’ve been dawdling in the square, we could be done with this job already.” Avoiding her gaze, I grabbed a thick clump of weeds and tore it from the ground, harder than I needed to. Black peat flew everywhere, including into my mouth. I scoffed at the sharp earthy taste and spit.
“I wasn’t dawdling! Not on purpose, at least. It’s not like I can just close my ears when I walk through the borough. I’m not you.” Hair fell in front of her face and she shook it back with a curse.
I refused to take the bait. Instead, I fixed her with what I hoped was an uncompromising glare. Then I retrieved the pitchfork from where it lay next to me and held it out to her.
She sighed through gritted teeth, relenting. “Sorry, Master. You’re right, I should have been on time.” She took the fork and set to work loading my pile of weeds into our two-wheeled cart.
Finally. I was in for an afternoon of moping, but Maddy’s begrudging apology meant that the lesson had, at least, been received. Time would tell if it stuck.
I settled back into my task, content to focus on weeds and minor domestic issues instead of whatever happened on the Perch this morning. I didn’t claim to be the perfect royal subject or teacher, but I knew how to do this job. I’d learned from a master who’d tended mulberries in the lower boroughs for decades. He’d handed over his nursery to me in his late sixties and retired to who knows where. Though I was less than half his age now, I’d been gardening for as long as Maddy had been alive. I knew a few tricks about growing things. I knew even more about hard work.
I couldn’t expect Maddy to understand all that. Not yet.
She worked in silence at my side. The deep scowl on her face was either from anger at me or at the hair again slipping from her ears. Still, she did the job.
Guilt tugged at my chest. Was I being too hard on her? Taking out my frustrations on my innocent partner? It wouldn’t be the first time. Two years after her farmer uncle had begged me to take her under my wing, I often found myself taking her for granted. Truth was that I relied on her. Not only for help with the work but also as a friend. Or at least someone who would put up with my brooding. If I’d have gotten caught in the courtyard this morning, Maddy would be the only thing I’d miss.
I sighed and sat back on my heels, wiping my hands on my pants before untying the kerchief from my head. The midday sun quickly dried the sweat on my bare skin and promised a painful burn later. Ah well. “Here, Mad,” I said, holding the large, slightly damp square of burgundy fabric out to her.
“What’s this for?”
“You can’t work if you can’t see, right?”
“Oh yeah. I guess I forgot my hat again.” She took it and tied back her brown waves, avoiding my eyes. “Thanks.”
She was always forgetting that floppy straw hat, the same one she’d been wearing when we met. The kerchief suited her better anyway. “You’re welcome.” I gave a small nod.
She smiled in return. We both understood that that was as much of an apology as I would give. “Can I tell you the news now?”
I knelt back down in the dirt and braced myself. “Sure. But at least work while you talk, eh?”
Her eyes lit up, and without hesitation, she let the gossip pour forth. As promised, she continued moving the rest of the weeds into the cart. “King Phillipe is dead!”
I’d expected something along those lines, but my breath still caught. King Phillipe Verling, ruling monarch for three decades…dead? The attack was right in front of the palace. I guess even the best doctors in the city couldn’t save him. “I see.”
“Yeah, it was horrible. The king was busy doing royal things, you know, and then…bam. Hit by crossbow bolts! They even got Crown Prince Rillin, right in the shoulder. Could be he’s dead by now, too. Nobody’s heard for sure.”
I grunted and moved to the next patch of weeds. If Rillin was dead, too, the crown would pass to the only royal left: Phillipe’s youngest, a princess. She’d been the one who’d hired me for the courtyard job. Or she’d at least signed the work order. The last time I saw her in person, she’d been a little girl. Now she had a husband and son of her own. No matter her age, this transition was sure to be tough on her.
Not my problem. I shook dirt from a snarl of roots.
“Princess Natalina wasn’t there, luckily,” Maddy continued, as if reading my thoughts. “But whoever did it might go after her next. Maybe they have some sort of grudge against the Verlings. I bet she’s so scared.” She sighed. “The Royal Guard is investigating.”
I nodded absently. Years ago, I might have allied myself with a Verling-hating assassin, but over time, my rage had mellowed to a mere simmering bitterness. I didn’t care about the increase in coffee tax or the traffic problems in the port. I was content as long as the royal family stayed away from me.
One thing was sure: whoever the killer was, they didn’t live down here. Most of the citizens of the lower borough–Maddy included–adored the Verlings. Or, at least, the Verlings’ opulent facade. No one seemed to understand that it wasn’t all exotic spices and silver bathtubs on that narrow plateau above the clouds. It was corruption. And cruelty.
Maddy had stopped talking. She eyed me, waiting. “Were you even listening?”
“Of course,” I lied.
She planted the pitchfork in the ground. “Spirits, Acton! I know you don’t care about the royals, but would you stop being such a grumpy puddle of sweat and give a damn for once? Someone assassinated our king!”
I set my jaw. She was right, of course. This wasn’t frivolous gossip about fashion or court affairs. This change would come with new laws, new guards, and a new monarch, whether it was Rillin or Natalina. And the Verlings were human. They probably deserved a smidgeon of sympathy. “You’re right, this is big news. But I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Things will work themselves out.”
“I wish there was something we could do to help.”
“That’s up to the Royal Guard, not us.” I got to my feet and stretched my legs. “It’s not like we were in the courtyard to see any assassin.”
As if on cue, a wave of sound came from the town square a few blocks away. Someone called for people to gather around. I couldn’t make out the exact words, but they had a practiced official voice.
“Sounds like they’re already here!” Maddy hurried to the guildhall yard wall and peered over it at the street beyond. Footsteps sounded on the cobbles as the crowd rushed towards the excitement. “Yes, there they are! They’ve got horses and everything! Can we go?”
I shook my head, barely registering the question. The Royal Guard? Here? They belonged on the Perch. The thought of them sweeping their red cloaks through our gutters and interrogating our neighbors sickened me. This was too close.
Panic rose within me. What if they were here for me? Had they recognized me in the courtyard and come to drag me back up the cliff?
Or did they think I had something to do with what happened?
Maddy’s voice interrupted my worries. “Acton?”
“Yes?” I said, still distracted by thoughts of red cloaks and shadows.
She’d left the wall and now eyed me with suspicion. “How’d you know the attack was in the courtyard, anyway? I didn’t tell you.”
Shit. “You didn’t?”
She crossed her arms. “You weren’t in Eastglen meeting a client this morning, were you?”
I gritted my teeth. I didn’t like lying to her, but it had been necessary. If I had mentioned the job on the Perch, Maddy would have insisted on joining me. I didn’t want her up there.
I considered doubling down, but she’d already caught me. “No.” I wiped my face with my hands. “I had a job. An installation.”
“Where?”
“On the Perch. In that courtyard right in front of the palace.”
“Spirits! So you were there when it all went down?”
“I guess so. But I ran before anyone knew what happened.”
“So, what, you left our big cart behind?”
“I had to. I was running for my life.” Spirits knew what happened to any of it. The cart, the bags of fertilizer, the mule I’d rented to haul it all up the cliff…a whole two months’ income was wrapped up in that job.
Maddy’s eyes softened. “Forget about the cart. I’m glad you made it back safe.”
“Thanks.” My legs suddenly felt weak, and I leaned heavily against the cart.
“Why did you take a job on the Perch, anyway? Today, of all days? You never go up there.”
“Same reason I take any job. Gold.” The job had seemed like such a good opportunity when the royal work order showed up. The princess wanted a line of mulberries planted along the north wall to balance out the grimness of her father’s new gallows at the other end. Only your superior specimens will do, she wrote.
The promised payment was double what I expected and impossible to pass on, regardless of the location. Since I assumed she’d sent the same offer to all the other lower borough gardeners, I’d let my greed win out over my caution and accepted immediately.
I should have said no. If anyone recognized me up there, they’d report me to the king and my life down here would be over. I thought of the nosy red cloaks, now only a stone’s throw away. Hopefully I hadn’t ruined my life for a few extra pieces of gold.
“Did you see anything before you left? Anything that might help find the assassin?”
I shook my head, then froze. I remembered the shadow in the alley, the one I’d decided not to pursue. Had that been real?
Maddy saw the hesitation. “So you did see something!”
“No, I saw a shadow. Nothing but a trick of the light. I was in a damn panic, you know. I couldn’t trust my eyes.”
“Still, you should tell the Guard, just in case. Any detail might help!”
“No.” I wasn’t going to chance being recognized.
“But you might be able to save Princess Natalina’s life! Come on, let’s go!” She tugged my sleeve toward the gate.
I pulled my arm away. “I’m not getting involved, girl! The damned shrikes can take care of themselves.”
She looked at me with more concern than annoyance. “What do you call them that?”
“What?”
“’Shrikes.’ They’re obviously not birds!”
“They’re not that different,” I growled. “You may think shrikes are pretty little songbirds, but they’re cruel animals. They torture prey by impaling it on thorns even when they’re not hungry. And they hunt their own kind.”
“But how is that anything like–”
“Mad,” I warned, holding up my gloved fist and raising three fingers. “You’ve got three questions left.”
She opened her mouth but snapped it shut again as she recognized what I said. Our old game was childish, maybe, but effective. Whenever she got too nosy about things not related to the job, I imposed a limit of three questions. If I answered truthfully, she promised to drop the subject. That way, she could sate her never-ending curiosity, and I could stop us from wasting time on things that didn’t matter.
“Fine. Why do you hate everyone up there so much?”
I hesitated. She couldn’t probe too deep with two more questions. Probably. “I used to live and work on the Perch, but I was forced to leave.” I lowered one finger. “Two left.”
Her eyes widened. “What did you do up there? Gardening?”
“No, I worked in the palace. Took orders from the royals.” I lowered another finger. “One.”
She furrowed her brow, considering the crucial last question. “Why did they force you to leave?”
How could I answer that? “I stole something. Something precious.” True, technically. I lowered my last finger. “Alright, that’s it.”
“What did you steal?”
I shook my head and stood up from the cart. “You’re out of questions.”
“But that last answer wasn’t complete! You’ve got to tell me the whole truth.”
I sighed. “What I stole has been gone for years. It doesn’t matter.”
“Come on, that’s not fair!”
“Let’s just say that if anyone from the Perch recognized me, they’d lock me up.”
“Then I don’t understand why you’d risk taking a job up there.”
She hadn’t framed it as a question. Clever. “Well, it was obviously a mistake.”
“Was it? They didn’t lock you up. How long has it been since you left?”
“Fifteen years.”
“That’s longer than I’ve been alive! I bet no one even remembers what happened. And I’m sure your face has changed a lot since then.”
I gritted my teeth. True, no one had spared a second glance for me this morning. And with my bald head and beard, I looked nothing like the man I’d been when I’d left. Could it be that I was the only one still dwelling on the past?
It didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to risk my new life. “I’m not taking another chance.”
“Not even to save the princess?”
“No.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand you, Acton.”
The disappointment in her voice felt like a punch in the gut. “Master Acton,” I corrected.
“I don’t understand you, Master Acton. Because of something that happened years ago, you’re too selfish to do the right thing. Maybe you’re no better than those shrikes you hate.” She yanked the pitchfork out of the ground and dragged the cart to the other side of the yard.
I grabbed the pruning shears from my belt with equal anger. As I snipped a thin branch off the nearest tree, Maddy’s words replayed in my head. Was I worried about nothing? I’d spent years losing myself in work and avoiding getting close to anyone except Maddy. What if I didn’t have to live in fear? I could go drinking in the taverns, take Maddy to a play on the Perch, and maybe even allow myself to answer more than three of her questions.
The possibilities were attractive but ultimately worthless. The risk was too great.
A piercing sound filled the courtyard. Shreep! Shreepshreep!
I winced. This time of year, singing birds were everywhere, but this sound was shrill and annoying. In the branches of the next tree, I saw a messy bunch of twigs and, below, a pile of grey feathers and a tiny orange beak in the grass. A nestling, fallen from on high. And a shrike. Figures.
Sudden anger rushed through me. Why couldn’t the world leave me alone? Like the nonsense from this morning, I couldn’t do anything about this situation. If the bird needed feeding, that was up to the absent mama. If it had broken a wing, it’d be kinder to let nature take its course. The guild master’s cat needed to be fed, too.
Shreep! Shreep!
To escape the noise, I retreated to the far end of the yard, seething. I only wanted to do my work and not be bothered by birds or princesses. Was that too much to ask?
As I resumed pruning, I heard someone cooing softly. Behind me, Maddy crouched under the tree, cupping her hands around the tiny ball of feathers. I shook my head. Why bother?
But then she lifted the shrike to the nest. A chorus of shreeps from its siblings welcomed it back. Maddy smiled and stepped back. Not a moment later, the mama returned in a rush of wings, feeding all her babies as if nothing had happened.
As I watched the happy family, I keenly felt the deep scowl on my face, heavy and cold. Had I always been this bitter?
If all it took for me to put the past to rest was to share a few words with the Guard, why wouldn’t I? I didn’t aim to being a hero, but if the princess wound up dead like the king, Maddy would never forgive me.
I had to try.
I swallowed my pride and joined my apprentice as she watched the shrike family. “If I go talk to the Guard now, can you finish up here?”
Her eyes lit up. “Yes! Of course! I’ll do it good. Well, I mean.” She gave a meek smile. “Anything to save the princess.”
I bit back my retort. I wasn’t doing this for Natalina. “Alright. I’ll meet you back here after to help get the payment. The guild master likes to short us sometimes.”
She nodded and immediately started work again, shoveling the rest of the weeds into the cart with haste.
Before I left the yard, she called to me. “Acton? I’m sorry I called you a grumpy pile of sweat.”
I smirked. “That’s alright. I probably deserved it.”
As part of my ongoing efforts to avoid recognition, I stayed away from crowds. I traveled from nursery to job and back via side streets, and I sent Maddy to the market in my stead.
Now, as I waded through the packed square with my sights on the mounted Royal Guard on the far side, I held onto the hope that all those precautions were for nothing.
I stopped near the front to study the red cloaks. Two of them were young, barely older than Maddy. They sat tall and arrogant in their saddles, their posture as stiff as their tasseled helms.
The third was older, about my age but possibly already forty. By the scar that all but split her upper lip in two, I figured she must be Commander Brynn, the Guard’s grim-faced leader.
“We are looking for any information on the one who did this,” she was saying. Her steady voice held a threatening edge as she glared down at us from her horse. Even in the lower boroughs, she carried an impressive reputation: veteran of two wars, protector of the royal family, enforcer of the king’s will. Fierce, efficient, just. Though, it was hard to say what her definition of justice was with shrikes as her masters. “We will not rest until the assassin is unmasked.”
As her words echoed through the square, the crowd descended into chattering gossip.
“Do you think they’re down here?”
“Where could they be hiding?”
“I can’t believe the Royal Guard is asking us for help!”
I smiled. Maddy would love this.
Before I could rethink it, I pushed my way in front of the crowd. “Commander?”
Brynn fixed me with a hawklike gaze. “Yes?”
“I was in the courtyard this morning. I might have information that will help you.”
Brynn climbed down so we stood face to face. She studied me, her eyes glinting like chips of blue ice. “Is this true?”
With a start, I recognized her. I’d known Commander Brynn as Lieutenant Brynn. She’d joined the Royal Guard weeks before I left the Perch. As I recall, she’d been a stickler for rules, always striving to impress the king. I guess that loyalty paid off over time.
I searched my memory but couldn’t recall if we’d ever interacted. We would have at least passed each other in the halls of the palace, but would she recognize my face after all these years?
Either way, I couldn’t back down now. Brynn would be suspicious, and I’d never be able to face Maddy again. “It’s true. I was there.”
Brynn’s eyes narrowed. “You do look familiar.”
My stomach dropped.
“You’re the mulberry gardener. Acton, isn’t it?”
“Oh, yes.” Of course. She’d been there this morning, too. It was her job to mark me as the out-of-place lower borough gardener. That was all.
“I had hoped to speak with you, but you disappeared.”
“I didn’t want to be in the way.”
“I understand. I apologize that your work was disrupted.” Her voice had smoothed and approached what sounded like a friendly tone.
“That’s very kind of you.” This close, I saw the dark circles around her eyes. The day had been tough on me, but it was worse for her. It wasn’t every day that the king under her protection was killed.
“Thank you for being willing to help. What information do you have?”
I took a breath. “I received the work order from Princess Natalina last week.”
Once I started, the words flowed. I told Commander Brynn and her red-tasseled lackeys everything, from my pre-dawn journey up the cliff to the moment I fled the courtyard. When I described the shadow in the alley, Brynn’s frown deepened.
Afterward, she gave a tight nod, not letting on if she considered my story helpful. “Thank you, Master Acton. We may call on you if we have further questions.”
“Of course.” I let myself breathe. It was over.
“Also, there is the matter of your cart.”
“Commander?” I wasn’t sure I heard right.
“Your supplies still sit in the courtyard as we speak. If you’d like to retrieve them, we will escort you now. We will also make sure you get paid for the work you did complete.”
The last place I wanted to go was back up there. But here I was, face to face with someone from my past life, and she saw only Master Acton the gardener. Maddy was right.
And from a business standpoint, retrieving those supplies–not to mention whatever payment they would give me–was well worth a quick trip up the cliff. I’d be a fool not to go. “That would be most appreciated, Commander.”
“Very well. We should leave now so we can make it by sunset.”
I didn’t fancy a ride home after dark, but I’d rather get it over with.
As I followed Brynn to the edge of the square, I eyed the crowd with more confidence than I’d had in years. This new world would be one where I no longer had to hide.
To my right, I spied a flash of burgundy. I spotted Maddy right before she ducked down behind a water barrel.
I sighed. “One moment please, Commander.” Brynn nodded and I strode to Maddy’s hiding place. “I thought you were finishing the job.”
Maddy emerged and stood straight up, her eyes wide. “I got most of it done! I only wanted to keep an eye on you.”
“That’s fine.” I was secretly glad to see her. “But listen, you need to go back and finish. Get the payment, go home, and clean up for the day.”
“Can’t I come with you? The guild master will understand that we had to–”
“No.” On that point, I would not yield. Until I was certain that my identity was safe, Maddy would not step foot on the Perch.
She frowned but didn’t argue. “Alright. See you at home, I guess.”
She turned to go, and I suddenly felt very alone. Before she disappeared into the crowd, I called her back. “Wait, Maddy.”
“What is it?”
“I–” Why had I called her back? What else did I want to say? Nothing that couldn’t wait a few hours.
If–when–I got back with the cart, I could tell her everything. I’d lay it all out: my time in the Perch, my history with the Verlings…all of it.
But now was not the time. I could feel Brynn’s gaze boring into the back of my head. “Don’t forget to lock up the tools,” I said finally.
Maddy nodded her head. “I won’t, Master.”
With their boundless resources, the Royal Guard quickly found a horse for me to use. We followed a twisting street of muck-stained cobblestones, passing through shadows of faded shop signs and fraying clotheslines. Gradually, the street widened and steepened to become the narrow cliffside path leading up to the Perch.
We passed merchants and tradesman returning home to the lower boroughs after a long day of work, some on foot and some pulling carts like mine. I envied them. I’d rather be heading down than making this climb for the second time in a day. At least now I had a surefooted horse underneath me instead of a rented mule and rickety cart.
At dusk, the top of the long, narrow upper borough finally revealed itself to us. Arrow-straight streets paved with sharp-cut tiles ran between block after block of pale stone buildings. Carved curling lines of laurel leaves and rosettes bordered doorways, windows, and even gutters. Everything was too clean. Too perfect.
Beyond the buildings, empty space stretched in all directions. The darkening sky hid the distant valley walls that usually cradled the city. I suddenly felt very small, a mouse perched on a mountain peak. I couldn’t shake the sense of being off balance and exposed. The air even seemed thinner this high up, like I couldn’t draw a deep enough breath. Only a quick errand, I reassured myself and my aching chest. Then I can go home.
We stopped at the gate leading to the Verling Palace courtyard. A thick-armed sergeant greeted Brynn and the others, but he studied me with a frown. I kept my face neutral, but I was sure he would hear my thundering heart. To my relief, he let us pass.
Inside, the courtyard sat as it had this morning. Empty. Filled with soft echoes. A ring of torches lit the perimeter and left pools of black in the center. To the right sat the platform where King Phillipe had taken his last breath. He and the prince were long gone. Only the lone silhouette of the gallows remained.
Brynn called a halt and nodded to the far end of the space. “Here we are, Master Acton. As you can see, your property remains untouched.”
I dismounted and approached my cart to inspect, following my shadow as it danced along the walls. The rented mule, as expected, was gone. He’d probably either chewed through his harness or been liberated by an opportunistic thief. I’d have to make up the cost to the owner. The cart was as I’d left it except for a deep slash in one of the bags. Dark clumps of fertilizer spilled out onto the stones below. Strange but not unexpected with the crossbow bolts flying around. Next to it were the saplings. They’d need a little extra care after sitting out in the sun all day, but they’d survive.
As would I. Once I’d packed all this up and made the journey back, all I’d have lost was a morning of work, my deposit on the mule, and a handful of fertilizer. I wondered if the Guard would let me use the borrowed horse to haul it all back home.
Low voices sounded behind me, and I turned to see Brynn speaking with a messenger in Verling livery. The other guards glared at me. As I watched, the messenger bowed and returned to the palace. “Is something wrong, Commander?” I asked.
Brynn cleared her throat. “There has been a change of plans. Your presence is requested in the palace.”
“The palace?” Panic rose in my throat. That wasn’t part of the agreement. “I’m afraid I don’t have time.”
“I understand, but the princess wishes to give you your payment in person.”
My stomach dropped. The princess? Someone must have seen me and reported it to the palace. Why else would Natalina summon me?
Whatever the reason, I couldn’t go. Even fifteen years wouldn’t be long enough for a member of the royal family to forget my face.
My gaze darted to the gate. “I changed my mind: I don’t need any payment,” I told Brynn. “And you can keep the cart. But thank you for the escort.”
With that, I left. I headed towards the exit with increasing speed. Soon I was running, my boots pounded on the stone as I again left my supplies and all my good sense. My vision narrowed to a pinpoint centered on the open archway.
But the heavy gates clanged shut before I could reach them. The sergeant on the other side glared at me as I tripped into the iron bars, chasing my breath.
“Master Acton.” Brynn appeared next to me. “I know you wish to return home, but you cannot reject a royal summons.”
The other guards put their hands on their swords, but Brynn only watched me with genuine concern. I must have looked as foolish as I felt.
I took one last look at the closed gates and turned back to the palace. Its spires stretched up and up, impossibly long fingers reaching into the void above. If I entered this place, would the shrikes let me leave again?
I’d soon find out. “I apologize, Commander. Of course, if the princess commands my presence, I must obey.”
A chill seeped out of the giant doors before us. Even on the warmest of spring evenings, Verling Palace was cold. I forced my stiff legs forward as I trailed Brynn through halls I remembered all too well.
We paused in the open doorway of the royal audience chamber. I peered inside as Brynn checked my pockets for weapons. A waste of time. All she found were my coin purse and bits of lower borough soil.
At the far end of the long room, a white-bearded priest spoke with a woman sitting behind a great desk.
“Commander Brynn of the Royal Guard,” the herald announced.
“Approach.” The princess’s voice rang out in response, and my blood ran cold. I prayed to the spirits to whisk me away, back to the courtyard or the guildhall yard with the screeching baby shrike, anywhere. A worthless prayer. Brynn deposited me in front of the desk, and I sank to my knees, more out of despair than deference.
“Your Majesty,” Brynn said with a bow. “This is the gardener who was in the courtyard this morning. His name is–”
“Acton: the master of mulberries. Of course.” Princess Natalina stood, her fingertips resting lightly on the edge of the desk. I recognized the weighty authority in her voice so similar in tone to that of her father. If she ordered her priest friend to leap off the edge of the Perch, he’d do it without a second thought. “Good work, Commander. Now leave us. All of you.”
The priest bowed and trotted past me, followed by Brynn and the rest of the Guard. The door slammed.
“You can stand up, you know,” Natalina said when I remained on my knees. “You no longer need to play the supplicant.”
I pushed myself to my feet and stood face to face with a true princess. She was an elegant example of Verling upbringing: straight and tall and confident. A tiara rested in an intricate nest of brown braids. Over sharp cheekbones, charcoal-rimmed eyes watched me, expectant.
But was that…a flicker of doubt? I grasped it. Maybe ignorance would save me. “Your Majesty, may I inquire as to why you’ve asked me here?”
She laughed. “Spirits, man. I know it’s been a few years, but I’d be damned if I didn’t recognize my own long-dead brother.” A smile softened her face, and she skirted the desk to take my hands. “Come now, Sebastien. You’re home.”
I flinched at her touch and the use of the half-remembered name. To me, it sounded as vile as the grotesque spires of this palace. Bile rose in my throat.
She frowned at my silence. “Seb, what’s wrong? This reunion is a miracle! Father told everyone you had died in the western woods with your sweetheart. What was her name? Annie?”
“Evi,” I corrected without thinking.
I froze. With the one word, I dismissed the veil I’d hidden behind for so long. She was right. I was Sebastien Verling, middle child of King Phillipe. I could hide no longer.
A violent shiver ran through me. It was all I could do to stand upright.
My sister saw the change, and she put a hand to my cheek. “There you are, Sebastien. Welcome back.”
Spirits, her smile was the same as our long dead mother’s. Before I could resist, she pulled me into a tight embrace, bringing my head to rest on her coiffed hair. My cheekbone pressed against the cut gems of her tiara, and I squeezed my eyes shut. She smelled of sweet pea and vanilla. This was my baby sister, after all. I’d tried so hard to forget her and the rest of my family.
Why?
I returned the embrace.
She laughed, almost nervously. “I swear, I never believed that you froze to death out there like a rabbit.”
I thought back to the day I had left. “Natalina…” I started. She’d been a girl of ten back then, and now…I barely knew her. How had she changed? What did she think of me? “Is he really dead? Father?”
She pulled back, a mask falling over her face. “Yes. Isn’t it horrible?”
I nodded, gradually lowering the mental barriers I’d constructed over the years and attempting to process the situation. What happened this morning was an attack on my family–no, our family–and my father was dead.
Here, back in my childhood home, I should grieve for him. Instead, I felt nothing. King Phillipe remained only a distant object to hate, a tyrant who would never bother to acknowledge a lower borough gardener like Acton. In my mind, he hadn’t been my father for years. “What about Rillin?” My older brother and I had quarreled as children, but he had never been cruel like Father.
“He’s fighting for his life, the poor bastard.” Natalina leaned back against her desk. “They had crossbows, you know. The first bolt took Father immediately, and the second nicked Rillin’s neck. They tell me he’s lost a lot of blood. It could go either way.”
I felt a surge of sympathy for her. While I’d been pulling up weeds, she’d been sitting in this empty palace dealing with all this by herself. I reached forward and took her hand.
She smiled and squeezed my fingers. “I’m so glad you’re back, Seb. Tell me you’ll stay so Rillin can see you when he wakes up.”
I pulled my hand back. In the joy of the reunion, I’d forgotten what it meant to be known again. There was a very real chance that I’d never be able to go back to my life as Acton. I’d be Prince Sebastien again, a slave to the royal blood in my veins.
Maddy and our nursery seemed a whole world away from where I stood right now.
I looked around the finely appointed walls of the audience chamber. This might be the only home Natalina had ever known, but in my mind, it was only an ancient battlefield.
Father and I had fought for as long as I could remember, usually in this room. From my early childhood, I’d tried to earn his respect despite him seeing me as a disappointing second son. Whenever I thought I’d found a way to gain his favor, I’d fall short. When I read every book in the archives over a summer, he insisted that books were for women. When I won an archery tournament at the age of fourteen, he said I should be learning the sword instead.
The final straw came when I’d presented Evi as the girl I intended to marry. Princes weren’t meant to marry nobodies from the lower boroughs, he’d said. Even second sons shouldn’t debase themselves that way. And if I couldn’t accept that, he’d have her sent away.
After that, I’d decided to stop fighting. In this room, I rejected my inheritance. I’d delighted at Father’s rage-filled eyes, and then Evi and I had fled the palace with the guards at our heels.
On that day, we’d stolen back our lives. Even now, I could feel the raw joy we had shared. We’d been invincible, higher than any spirits or mortal man for a wonderful, golden moment.
If only that feeling could have lasted forever.
A heaviness settled around me. If I returned to this life, it would tarnish the memory of that brief taste of freedom. Even if Father was gone, shrikes still infested the Perch. Shrikes like the young members of the Royal Guard strutting around with their pompous red plumes and the sergeant outside the gate glaring at the dirt under my fingernails. Every single spoiled rich brat up here thought themselves better than the people below.
The sooner I left the Perch, the sooner I could get back to my work.
And Maddy.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Natalina. I know you need help up here, but I’m not Sebastien anymore.”
My sister frowned. “I thought you might say that.” She sighed and lowered into the chair.
“I hope you understand. I have a life down there. I can’t abandon it.”
She stayed silent, absently stroking one of the drawer handles.
Was that it? Could I go home? “I know you can handle this, sister. You’re so much stronger than I am.” I cleared my throat. “I’ll collect my cart and be on my way. It was good to see you.”
“Wait, Sebastien.” She opened a drawer and pulled out an object. I couldn’t see it, but I could hear it scraping against the wood. “I want to tell you who killed Father.”
Unease appeared in my gut. Something had changed. “You mean you’ve already found the assassin?”
My sister nodded, her eyes wide and hollow. “It’s poetic, really. The killer was none other than King Phillipe’s jealous second son, back from the dead to reclaim his birthright.”
“What? Me?” Did she really think I was capable of that? “No, no, you’ve got it wrong. I gave up my place here because I didn’t care about the damned crown. I still don’t. I–”
“Then why did you come back up here if not to finish off the rest of your family?” Her eyes stayed fixed on mine as she held up the object from the desk. A knife.
My heart pounded. Her strange words and the sharpened steel glinting in the candlelight made no sense. The floor tilted beneath me. “Natalina, what’s going on?”
Before I could stop her, she reached the blade up and dragged it along her opposite shoulder. Red blossomed through her sleeve. “Sebastien, what are you doing?” she cried. “Guards! Help!” Then she tossed the knife onto the desk between us, the handle pointed toward me.
I stared at it, frozen.
By the time the Royal Guard swarmed the room, I’d realized what had changed. To Natalina, I was no longer her beloved brother. I was her scapegoat.
Commander Brynn was on top of me first, wrestling me to the ground and knocking my head against the desk in the process.
Dazed, I saw Natalina cowering behind her chair. “He’s the lost prince!” she cried. No doubt the tears of pain were real, but the note of fear in her voice was artificial. Could anyone else hear it? “He killed Father! My own brother is the assassin! He wants the crown.”
“That’s not true!” I tried to wheeze, but my breath was gone. Brynn’s knee pressed into my spine and pinned me to the floor.
The room spun around me, and I mourned all the chances I’d had to escape. The square, the courtyard, this room before Natalina pulled the knife. I’d squandered them all, convincing myself that I could escape my past.
Now I’d pay the price for returning to the Perch.
I lived more than two decades in the Verling Palace, but I’d never found a reason to visit the cells below ground. Now, they were my whole world.
And it was a dark world. Occasional torchlight accompanied the guards when they dropped off my daily bowl of gruel, but the rest of the time my eyes failed to be useful. I stopped trying to make out my waving hands in the blackness. Whose hands would I see, anyway? Acton’s, with the calloused palms? Or Sebastien’s, with his soft shrike skin? Or perhaps the blood-soaked tools of the king’s killer.
Reality quickly faded into exhaustion. I spent most of my time curled up on the cold floor, praying for sleep but usually drifting in a timeless abyss of wakefulness. Here I was, the lost Verling prince returned from the dead and immediately cast away, condemned by my supposed crimes.
With shame, I remembered the moment in that audience chamber when I’d taken comfort in Natalina’s familiar smile. Now, I knew that her smile hadn’t come from sisterly love but from knowledge of her eventual victory. Had she planned to frame me for everything from the beginning?
I recalled the strange slash in my fertilizer bag. What if she had originally intended me to be not the villain but the third target? Her lackeys could have easily sunk a third crossbow bolt in my back while I planted her damned mulberries.
Had I been saved by a sack of shit?
That had to be it. When I’d failed to die, Natalina had changed tactics and pinned the attack on me. I was an instrument for her to pluck. She was like Father, like my father, like all the shrikes who wouldn’t stop until they had shaped the world exactly as they wanted. I should have seen it.
In the corner of my freezing cell, I found a rotten blanket so full of holes it was no better than a spiderweb. It did little to curb my shivering. The last time I’d felt cold this fierce was in the woods, not long after we’d left the city.
Evi and I had walked for days until we collapsed from exhaustion, utterly lost and no longer able to rely on the joy of our newfound freedom. Night came swiftly, and we’d huddled closer than close to share warmth.
Then one night, our warmth wasn’t enough. The relentless, heavy cold sank into our bones. By the time we found shelter in an old shack, Evi had already taken sick. Weeks later, she still wasn’t better. Then, she was gone.
In the daylight, maybe I could blame Father. In this cell, I could only blame myself.
I’d been so adamant that we leave the city. She hadn’t wanted to, but I’d convinced her. Father would never let us live in peace, I said. He had a legion of assassins to send after people who displeased him. Like the long line of bullies and warlords he descended from, he was ruthless. We had to go before the Perch corrupted us, too.
Sorrow washed over me, as fresh as it had been in those last days. She trusted me completely, even when I’d looked at her gaunt face in the shadows of a dying fire and told her she’d be alright.
I bolted up in alarm. I couldn’t picture her face.
What had she looked like? I searched the memory again, but her face was only a shifting combination of eyes, a nose, lips. The details were gone from my mind.
Oh, Evi.
I used to talk to her, I remembered. After I buried her and tried to figure out how to navigate the world alone, I talked to her every night. At first it was an attempt to ease my grief, but then it became how I organized my thoughts and made plans. Before I lay down to sleep every night, I’d told her about the odd jobs I took to survive, about disguising myself by shaving my head so I could return to the city and make more gold, about the gardener I’d found to train me.
But on one night lost to memory, I stopped. I’d forgot to tell her I was alright, and eventually I’d forgotten her face.
I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, filling the darkness with flashes of light. Fifteen years ago, an overconfident prince had left the Perch with his beloved’s hand in his, thinking he’d stolen back his life. Now, a gardener returned only to end up shivering alone on a dungeon floor. He’d seen what comes of naïve optimism.
I wiped tears from my cheeks. None of it mattered. Evi, my glorious break from Father, all those years keeping my head down and tending mulberries…even the life I’d built with Maddy.
Oh spirits, what would happen to her? She may be smart, but she still had so much to learn. She needed someone to watch over her, and I was stuck on the Perch.
I pounded the stones with a feeble fist. I was fully ensnared in my previous life. I’d die here, slowly succumbing to the evil built into the mortar.
And Maddy would never know the full story.
I’m so, so sorry.
I lost count of the bowls of gruel pushed through the bars of my cell. Eventually, rough hands dragged me into the light.
Before I could get my bearings, they dropped me in the dirt. I groaned and shielded my eyes against the savage sun. Was I finally out of that cell? Among the perfumes of growing things? Scents of sweet pea and rose petal found my nose, wafting from one of the palace gardens I had played in as a child. The breeze on my skin barely felt real. Nothing felt real.
Commander Brynn offered me a hand. “Can you stand, Prince Sebastien?”
That name. Was that who I was? Prince Sebastien, the king slayer? That sounded right.
I ignored Brynn’s hand and pushed myself up onto shaky legs. Sleeping on that stone floor had done nothing for my knees. I looked around and saw that we were in a small enclosure on the north side of the palace. A score of guards lined the path. Quite an escort for a ghost. “Where are we going?”
Instead of answering, Brynn closed cold metal shackles around my wrists.
We followed the path as it led around the palace. I shambled along in my soiled tunic and noted that the guards kept their distance. Spirits knew what I smelled like.
Only Brynn kept close, a hand on my elbow lightly guiding me. When she finally spoke, her voice was solemn. “You’re to be hanged this morning, by the orders of Queen Natalina.”
As expected. Natalina couldn’t wait to test the new gallows. And she was the queen now. No longer the princess. I winced. “Is there news of Rillin?”
Brynn lowered her gaze. “Prince Rillin passed two nights ago.”
I waited for grief to surface, but like with Father, I felt nothing. In that dungeon, my compassion–for my family and for myself–had shriveled to a pebble. With detached amusement, I realized that I was next in line for the throne. I doubted anyone would hand me a crown now.
Now that I knew my fate, I studied the grim-faced commander next to me. Brynn kept her gaze on the path ahead, unreadable. Who was this woman leading me to my doom? Was she simply a devoted servant doing her duty? Or had she been involved in Natalina’s plot from the beginning? “Did you know who I was?”
“What?”
“Did you know who I was when we met in the square? Are you that good of an actress?” I doubted it.
Brynn looked pained. “I was in that square to search for an assassin.”
I snorted. “And you found him.” I had my answer. I’d been trapped since the arrival of the work order. “My sister is lucky to have the service of such a loyal dog.”
Before I could react, Brynn shoved me off the path and into the nearest wall. “Listen to me,” she hissed, pinning me to the wall with an elbow in my neck.
I winced at the sharp stones digging into my back. “You’ve got my attention.”
“I know you’re innocent.”
She muttered the unexpected words while she held me up against the wall like a child. “How?”
“The knife that drew the queen’s blood wasn’t yours. It was hers, from the desk. You couldn’t have known it was there. And the crossbow bolts that killed the king and the crown prince came from the parapets, not your cart.”
Hope flickered inside me, but I quickly extinguished it. This had to be part of the game. “You think I’m innocent, and yet you’re still escorting me to my execution.”
“Yes.” She lessened the pressure on my neck. “I advised Queen Natalina to reconsider, but she had already passed judgement. I cannot disobey her.”
“Then why tell me?”
She scowled. “I am advising you that any attempt to rebel will only cause more suffering. The queen is too powerful.”
Anger flared within me. How did she think I was going to rebel? Was there some way out of this that I couldn’t see? “It’s not like I have a choice here–”
“You always have a choice. You can choose to face your fate with dignity for the sake of the ones you’re leaving behind. Or you can fight back and still lose.” She pulled away, and I spied a flash of shame in her eyes. “Please know that I am truly sorry for what’s happening. If I could find a way to help you, I would.”
With that, she released me. The march resumed in silence.
I limped along and my vision blurred with rage. I had already accepted my fate in that jail cell, and now Brynn had complicated it. Why? To clear her conscience with a senseless apology? I should have known she was a shrike like the rest of them, only concerned with herself. Of course she wanted me to face my fate without protest. A smooth execution would win her more favor with the queen. She didn’t care about my “dignity.”
What did she think I was leaving behind, anyway? All I had was a reputation as a mediocre gardener, a couple squeaky carts, a half-empty nursery, a set of well-worn tools.
And Maddy.
My breath caught.
Maddy would learn about all this when news filtered down to the lower boroughs. Did I want her to hear that her old master went to his death begging and sniveling and pleading for his life? Of course not. I wanted her to remember me as Acton, not as Sebastien the murderer. I might not be able to help her anymore, but I could avoid tarnishing that memory.
Dammit. Maybe Brynn had a point.
I summoned what was left of my long abandoned Verling pride and lifted my gaze from my feet to the path ahead.
We stopped in front of the palace-side wall of the courtyard. A line of guards stood across the entrance arch, blocking our view of what sounded like a ravenous crowd. I could clearly hear the calls for my death.
I did my best to take Brynn’s advice and drew calm resignation around me as a cloak. This is how life worked. Trees die, people disappear, corrupted rulers rise and get their way. It was unnatural for second sons like me to pretend we could control it.
Queen Natalina awaited, dressed in a gown covered with the black roses of mourning. The softness I’d seen the other day was gone, replaced by a look of triumph. I wondered if anyone else could see it.
Brynn deposited me in front of her and then stepped back to give us privacy.
“I’d command you to bow, but I don’t think it would do any good.”
At least my sister allowed me that kindness. “How long have you known where I was?”
Her eyes flashed. “Many, many years, dear brother.”
It had been hubris to assume my secret life was ever actually a secret. Not in this city. “And you never told Father?”
“No. He would have had you killed for your disrespect. I didn’t want that fate for you.”
I gestured toward the courtyard. “And yet here we are. Do you think you’re better than him somehow?”
Her face sobered. “I am not Father. All you Verling men are blinded by selfish pride. Everything I’ve done–and will do–is to help my son.” She nodded behind me to where a young boy of maybe six stood with a group of guards. He was yellow-haired with a spattering of freckles on his nose and cheeks, not unlike how I remembered his mother at that age.
“He’ll grow up outside of Father’s influence,” she continued, her eyes sparkling. “And he will be the greatest Verling ruler to have ever lived. He’ll be better than me, than Father, and even you.”
I took a deep breath. “We can only hope.”
A sudden roar of sound came from the courtyard. Word of my arrival must have spread. Bloodthirsty shrikes pressed against the line of guards, vying for a glimpse of me, the object of their hate.
“Worried about what comes next?” Natalina watched me, smug. Her work was done. The mob and the hangman would take care of the rest.
I straightened up, thinking of Brynn’s advice. “I’m impatient. I don’t much care for this spectacle.”
“That’s right, you’re a simple man of the lower boroughs now. Honest work is the only thing that makes you happy. Though, I would like to point out that you did abandon your installation job in the courtyard, not unlike how you abandoned your family. I’d imagine that was difficult for someone with so much…integrity.”
Every second we waited here only delayed the inevitable. Why did she have to wallow in her victory? “My biggest regret will be not beautifying your courtyard, sister.”
She smiled. “I thought so. That’s why I hired someone from the lower boroughs to finish it. She should be finishing up now, actually. She’s young but surprisingly talented. Merely an apprentice. But she might make a good royal groundskeeper in the future.”
No.
Natalina had the gold to hire any gardener in the city, upper or lower. Why would she drag Maddy all the way up here? Just to get a reaction from me? She’d already won. I was going along with this outlandish plan. She didn’t need a hostage.
There was another reason, but I’d made sure to bury any evidence of that long ago. It couldn’t be.
Still…
I tried to judge the look in Natalina’s eyes. What did she know?
Her smirk revealed nothing. “Brother, the girl intrigues me. Strange for you to hire someone so young. How old is Maddy now…fifteen?”
Her name on Natalina’s lips sounded vile. “Many start their apprenticeships much younger.”
“Maybe. Maybe your relationship is only professional.” Natalina’s brow wrinkled as she pretended to be deep in thought. “Or maybe it’s something else entirely.”
No.
“Her age would mean that she was born a few months after you and your lover left in such a hurry. I find that extremely interesting.”
I struggled to keep my face neutral, clenching my jaw so hard my neck ached. Natalina’s gaze bored into mine as she gauged my reaction to her guess.
And that’s all this could be: a guess. The thought brought me a sliver of relief. She couldn’t know. Evi had barely been pregnant when I’d stood up to Father. We left before anyone else could find out. After Maddy was born, I delivered her to the doorstep of a kind-eyed couple with a farm who agreed to raise her as their niece. And they never knew who I was. I made sure of that.
When fate had brought us together again, Maddy and I had been strangers: just an apprentice needing a master and a gardener needing a strong pair of legs.
No, Natalina didn’t know. She was paranoid, grasping at anything that might spoil her claim to power, including possible rogue branches of the royal bloodline. She had no proof. “I don’t give a damn what you think you know, sister. That girl is no threat to you. If you’re thinking about harming her…” I stepped forward but keenly felt the metal rings binding my wrists. “You can go right to hell.”
“Bold words for someone who will be there by midday.” She gestured to the archway. “I think we’ve kept the people waiting long enough. Shall we?”
“Yes, please, before I finish the job your knife started the other day.” My words were bold, but fear had me in its grip.
The guards led me to the archway, and I stared through the gates into an ocean of roiling hate. We’d have to cross it to reach the gallows fifty yards away.
But it wasn’t the crowd’s bloodlust that scared me. It was the thought of Maddy somewhere in there, unsuspecting and completely defenseless against Natalina’s paranoia. Even if my weak words had convinced my sister that Maddy wasn’t a threat, she could still send assassins after her on a whim. It’s not like the new queen needed proof to dispose of a mere gardener’s apprentice.
I curled my hands into fists and the shackles rattled. What could I do? I was alone, and like Natalina said, I’d be dead before midday. All I could do was hope Natalina wouldn’t be heartless enough to murder an innocent girl.
Something told me that hope wouldn’t be enough.
The guards cleared a path before us, and Natalina swept into the crowd, draped in feigned humility. People bowed and kissed her fingers, all at once worshipping and sympathizing with her. She was a grieving sister and daughter, the lone survivor of a heinous plot against her family.
My reception was less welcoming. Brynn kept a hand on my shoulder as we waded into a mass of writhing, red-faced shrikes. She did her best to wave them off, but every few steps an elbow or fist would strike out from the crowd and find its way to my upper arms or ribs. Rotten fruit rained down on us, some of it pelting my skin and some exploding on the ground into clouds of putrid scent. The verbal assault continued through it all.
“Murderer!”
“Filth!”
“Death to Sebastien the Traitor!”
I stumbled over my feet and went down hard on the stones several times. Once, someone pulled off my boot and stamped on my bare ankle. The sudden explosion of pain took my breath, and I cowered on the ground until Brynn hoisted me back up. Eventually, she ordered the other guards to form a protective wall around me while I limped forward the best I could, blinded by tears.
“Do you see her?” I managed to ask Brynn. Never mind that Brynn was Natalina’s minion. In this moment, she was all I had.
“Who?”
Something exploded against my head, and liquid trickled down into my mouth. “Maddy.” I spit out a bit of eggshell. “My apprentice. She was with me when we spoke in the square.” Was that yesterday? A week ago?
“There’s too many people. I can’t–” she grunted. “Wait, yes, I think so. In the back standing up in your cart. Red kerchief?”
“That’s her,” I said, my voice breaking. Had the news reached the lower boroughs yet? Or was Maddy only now finding out that grumpy Master Acton was a prince…and a king slayer?
And did she believe any of it?
The last thought made my chest tight. Like Brynn’s apology, Maddy’s support ultimately wouldn’t matter for me. But it would certainly make things worse for her.
It’d be easiest if she accepted the lies outright. Let her become one with the crowd and call for my death along with the rest of them. That would lessen Natalina’s suspicion and keep her from harm.
Let her hate me, I prayed, though it tore at my heart. Let her hate me to keep her safe.
After what felt like hours, we reached the gallows platform. I stumbled onto the steps and collapsed, struggling for breath. Below me, streaks of brownish red still stained the whitewashed wooden planks. Was it Father’s blood? Or Rillin’s? Would mine look the same?
“On your feet, prisoner.”
With my cheek pressed against the top step, I saw a harsh-faced man sporting a white beard and the arrogant eyes of inherited wealth. I placed him as the priest from the audience chamber. No doubt one of Natalina’s lackeys. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the shadow I’d seen in the alley. He looked down at me with disgust. “I said on your feet!”
“Come on, Sebastien,” Brynn knelt next to me and whispered in my ear. “Stand up.”
I nodded. If I stood up, I might be able to spot Maddy.
Shooting pains in my foot told me that something was at least sprained if not broken. This time, I used Brynn’s arm to help pull myself up.
The courtyard was filled with hundreds of people, far from the eerie emptiness of the other day. Every archway overflowed with enraged faces and accusatory fingers pointed my way.
Most of the noise came from shrikes in brightly colored robes and gaudy hats. The residents of the Perch were treating this like a festival. But I was surprised to see a familiar face among them: the guild master we’d done work for before this all began. He looked at me with curious, sad eyes. What was he doing all the way up here?
Finally, I spotted Maddy. She’d left the cart and now waded through the crowd with surprising speed, her burgundy handkerchief bobbing and weaving as she shouldered past people. Her gaze locked onto the platform. Onto me.
I wanted to yell at her to turn back, but I couldn’t draw attention to her. Was she coming to try to free me? To demand answers?
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Natalina step up onto a raised part of the platform, no doubt to have a clear view of the show. Flanking her were a dozen guards with swords at their hips. A black-hooded hangman stood near the gallows, patiently silent. Everyone on this platform, except maybe Brynn, wanted me dead. If Maddy was planning something stupid, she’d fail. “Any attempt to rebel will only cause more suffering,” Brynn had said. She’d known this was coming. Somehow.
The priest cleared his throat and addressed his audience. “My children, the accused comes before us, in the sight of you, the queen, and the spirits. Here, he will be judged for his crimes.” He turned to me. “Child, are you, in fact, Prince Sebastien Verling, second son of our dear departed King Phillipe?”
“Yes.” Maybe if I cooperated, we could end this before Maddy got here. Then she’d have no choice but to turn around.
“And did you abandon and deceive your city by feigning your death fifteen years ago?”
The priest gave a simplified version of what had really happened. “Yes.”
Boos. Jeers. A clod of dirt hit the wooden planks at my feet.
“And did you plan and execute the deaths of your father and brother in order to gain the crown?”
I hesitated, watching the crowd. More projectiles and curses sat ready in waiting hands and throats. But I had already made my decision. Lie. Cooperate. Do whatever I need to do to get this over with before Maddy could interfere. “Yes.”
I ducked, but the rain of debris still hit me. Next to me, a rock bounced off Brynn’s helm.
“Murderer!”
“String him up now!”
The priest continued with his list of my crimes, but I didn’t listen. Maddy was here.
She stood below me, pressed against the shoulder-height platform. She waved her arms as if she didn’t already have my attention. “Acton!”
I turned away, refusing to acknowledge her. Get on with it, I silently urged the pompous priest.
“Master Acton!” she tried again, louder.
“Go back home, Maddy,” I tried.
“Are you crazy? What is happening?” Her eyes were wide, desperate. “You’re not a prince!”
The crowd around her booed.
“Shut up, girl!” a man in a fine silk cloak said beside her.
“But I know him,” she cried. “He’s innocent!”
“Nah, you’re just delaying the show.” With that, the man shoved her, almost sending her to the ground.
“Hey!” I started forward but Brynn stopped me.
“Stay still, Prince Sebastien,” she pleaded with a squeeze of my arm.
“Who is this interfering with my justice?”
Brynn spun us around and I locked eyes with Natalina. The queen towered over me and all her subjects in the crowd. Surprisingly, I read amusement in her face.
This is what she wants, I realized. Natalina wanted this public display. Why?
“She’s no one,” I stammered. I didn’t have time to decipher Natalina’s games. I had to convince Maddy to get out of here.
“No one?” the queen said. “Or your co-conspirator? Perhaps a second assassin?”
The crowd buzzed in excitement and my heart fell.
“Of course not. She knew nothing about…what I did. She’s innocent.” What else could I do? “Let me speak to her, and she won’t trouble you anymore.”
Natalina pursed her lips. “If you wish.”
Her sudden mercy must be an act for the crowd. It wouldn’t last, so I had to be quick.
I shook myself free of Brynn’s grip and hobbled to the edge of the platform. With difficulty, I knelt down so I was face to face with Maddy. “Girl, you need to get out of here. Now.”
She shook her head. “Is any of this true?”
“All of it.” I didn’t hesitate. “I’m a prince, and I’ve wanted the crown for years. But now my plan has failed.” The lies spilled out easily. I would have said anything to make her go.
She scoffed as she struggled to make sense of my words. “I don’t believe you.”
My heart swelled. For once I wished my headstrong, kind-hearted apprentice was anything but. “Fine, you don’t have to. Just get out of here.”
“No, I’m not leaving you.”
“You should listen to him, girl,” Natalina called from behind me. “After all, he’s the expert at running away from the people he cares about.”
Maddy frowned. “What?”
“Don’t listen to her. Go, please.” I searched for what else to say. “You’re such a good girl, Mad. I–”
“Oh, he never told you?” Natalina continued. “He left his family fifteen years ago to elope with some lower borough girl–”
“Stop,” I pleaded.
She ignored me. “He left everything for her, and then he let her freeze to death in the mountains.”
I could barely get the words out. My chest was so tight, I couldn’t draw a deep enough breath. “Natalina…”
“And then he even abandoned you, his only daughter–”
I found my voice. “I never abandoned her!”
My words, spoken with more confidence than I’d felt in years, faded. Silence settled over the platform like a thick fog. The only sound was my thundering heart. Had I really said that aloud?
I watched as Natalina’s surprise mellowed into a satisfied smirk. “Well, well.”
My heart fell. That was it. I’d doomed both of us.
“Finally at the end, the truth emerges,” Natalina said. “Brother, you’ve spent your whole life lying. Today, your deception ends.” She signaled to the thick-armed sergeant at her side.
“Wait,” I said, breathless with a sudden need. “Let me have one more moment with her.”
“I’ve already given you more than you deserve.”
And yet you’ve taken even more. “Please, I need to…I need to…” What did I need? My eyes flitted across the platform, to the priest, to the swinging rope. Anywhere but Maddy. Not yet. What would I say?
“My queen, I advise you to grant his last request,” Brynn said, her calm voice filling the silence. “Through mercy, a ruler may show strength.”
Natalina turned toward the commander of the Royal Guard, brows lifted as if she couldn’t believe the woman had spoken.
“You said you wanted to teach your son to rule justly,” Brynn continued. I don’t know how she kept her voice so steady. “Think of this as his first lesson.”
At first Natalina’s glare deepened. But then, with her eyes on the waiting crowd, her face softened. She nodded to me. “Take your moment.”
“Thank you,” I said. Showing gratitude for any of this felt ludicrously wrong, but having these few seconds meant more to me than anything in the world.
As I turned back to Maddy, everything around us fell away. Her shocked face could have been chiseled from stone. A stray lock of hair fell loose from the kerchief and dangled against her cheek. Just like…
Evi.
Spirits, she’d been here this whole time: in Maddy’s bright eyes, in that wild brown hair. But I hadn’t let myself look.
In a flash, I saw what could have been. On any of the hundreds of days since Maddy came back into my life, I could have taken the day off work and packed for a picnic on the nursery. We could’ve spread out a blanket underneath that tree on the end whose branches gave the most shade. I’d have offered her a sweet cake and then told the truth.
I’d say I knew that the farmers would raise her better than I ever could, but I still secretly dropped sacks of coins on their doorstep to make sure she was properly fed. I’d describe all the odd jobs I’d worked to earn what was needed. I’d never let on how many nights I had gone hungry because of it.
I’d tell her that she looked like her mother from the moment she was born. I wouldn’t tell her about the nightmarish days after her birth when a self-exiled prince and his infant daughter huddled in a drafty shack far away from everything, helpless as her mother slipped away.
Instead, I’d describe the joy I felt when I heard that the farmers’ niece had an affinity for growing things and that she was looking for a master to apprentice herself to. Together, we’d remember that moment when she had shown up at my nursery, clutching that damn floppy hat.
Then we would have laughed and shared another sweet cake.
Emotion clouded my throat. If only I hadn’t been so stubborn.
Maddy spoke. “Is it true, Acton?”
I took a deep shaky breath. No more lies. I gave a single nod. “You’ve got two questions left.”
Her eyes widened and a tear escaped down her cheek. Eventually she said, “If I hadn’t convinced you to talk to the Guard, would this have happened?”
I reached out my shackled hands and touched her cheek, wanting more than anything to banish the tear. “This is not your fault. I’m the one that hid from all this.” I cleared my throat. “One left.”
Behind us, the guards argued amongst themselves, trying to decide whether to break up our conversation. Brynn loudly commanded them to hush. “You will wait until I give the order,” she insisted. Spirits, I needed to thank her for this. Her words even silenced Natalina.
I lowered my voice and asked my own question. “Do you understand why it’s not safe for you here anymore?”
Maddy’s eyes flicked behind me to the queen and her jaw set in determination. She nodded.
I smiled despite everything. In an instant, she’d already accepted the truth and understood its implications. She’d always been smarter than me. “Then you’ve got to run. Fast. As soon as the guards are distracted, get out of this crowd. Leave the city. And don’t look back.”
“And you’ll follow?”
My broken foot throbbed in pain as I thought of the leagues of winding streets between here and the city gates. I doubted I could walk even as far as the edge of the courtyard. But the agreement was that I answer with the truth. “If I can.”
“Good.” She opened her mouth to say something else but closed it again. She gave a tiny smile. “Looks like I’m out of questions.”
I nodded, my words exhausted. Perhaps that was for the best. Words could only say so much.
Brynn grasped my shoulder with a tentative hand. I nodded and let her pull me up, away from Maddy. I’d done all I could.
Or had I?
My hands may be bound, but I was not powerless.
Once standing, I pretended to stumble on my injured foot and fell into Brynn. As she shifted to support my weight, I whispered into her ear, “Will you help me?”
A terrible beat of silence followed. Then came a mumbled word. “Yes.”
Relief flooded my chest. “Then follow my lead.”
I swiped the sword from her belt, threw my shackles over her head, and pressed the blade to her neck. “Stay back!” I cried at the guards as they drew their weapons. “I’ll slit her throat!”
Brynn reacted perfectly, pretending to struggle against my bind. Her tasseled helm fell off and rolled from the platform into the crowd. “Do as he says!” she gasped.
In return, I kept the sharp-edged steel a finger’s width away from her skin.
The guards stayed back, exchanging confused glances.
Together, the commander and I backed away along the edge of the platform to the far corner, away from Maddy. I caught a glimpse of her sliding the red kerchief from her head and immediately disappearing into the distracted crowd. Good girl.
“My child, think about what you’re doing,” the priest said, holding his hands up in warning. “Do not compound your sins.”
I barked a laugh. “My only sin was being born a Verling.” My back to the crowd, I removed the sword from Brynn’s neck and pushed her to the ground. She rolled into a crouch and spread her arms wide, preventing the rest of the guards from rushing me.
“Stand down!” she said.
Natalina spoke, a flicker of unease in her voice. “Brother, you don’t even know how to use a sword.”
“Don’t I? I started training long before you were born.” The blade was heavy and awkward with my shackles, but I brandished it as best I could. For the moment, my fake confidence and Brynn kept the guards at bay. All of it was at least enough to fill my sister’s eyes with fear. I turned to the crowd.
“People of the city, I owe you an apology.” My parched throat burned, but I carried on. “You’ve been lied to today. I have lied to you.”
The crowd’s mood had shifted in the preceding moments. I could almost see the news of my conversation with Maddy fly from person to person, no doubt twisted and exaggerated at every exchange. Eyes that had been filled with simple bloodlust changed to focused interest. I had their attention.
“I am Prince Sebastien, but I had nothing to do with the deaths of my father and brother. I mourn them the same as all of you.” I supposed that was true in some deep part of me. In truth, I mourned more for what the city would be like under the rule of my sister.
I lifted the sword and pointed the tip toward Natalina. “The truth is that your new queen arranged their deaths and tore me from my life in the lower boroughs to take the blame. She was willing to sacrifice her whole family to gain the crown.”
Gasps. This drama was better than any performance in the upper borough theaters.
“Ridiculous!” the priest said, the pitch of his voice rising with his desperation to regain control. “You dare add fresh treason to your list of crimes?”
“He’ll say anything to save his neck.” Natalina’s voice was icy cold. She sounded more like our father than ever.
“Will I?” We locked eyes, and I finally accepted that there was nothing left of my baby sister. She was a Verling ghost like me, cursed to haunt this city. Maybe Maddy would be the first one of us to truly escape.
When I spoke again, it wasn’t to the crowd. It was to Maddy, somewhere in the throng. “Believe me or not, this is the truth. And I’ve waited too long to say it. For that, I’m sorry.”
The gossip swirled before me, some snatches of conversation sticking out.
“Could he be right? Is Natalina guilty?”
“Shh, that’s treason!”
“But what if it’s true?”
I closed my eyes and lowered my sword. The responses from the crowd sounded far, far away. Shrikes…visitors from the lower boroughs…they all sounded the same. I didn’t care what they said anymore. For the first time since I’d returned to the Perch, I could breathe. I shut my eyes and dropped to my knees, drunk on deep lungfuls of air that smelled of dirt and fertilizer and mulberries.
Natalina barked orders at the guards, her voice tiny and distant. When I finally opened my eyes, Brynn knelt before me. She no longer tried to hide her rebellion. “I can’t fight them off. What do you want me to do, Acton?”
Acton. That’s right. That’s who I was. “Go to Maddy. Make sure she’s safe.” I thrust the sword hilt into her hand.
“But if I leave you, they’ll…” she started, eyeing the frothing guards as they approached.
“Please.”
Her argument evaporated on her lips. She gave me a quick nod and a squeeze on my shoulder, and then she was gone, leaping off the platform into the shocked crowd.
The guards looked after their commander in utter bewilderment.
“Never mind her!” Natalina yelled from somewhere. “Hang the traitor. Now! ”
Rough hands grabbed me from all sides and dragged me towards the back of the platform where the hangman stood ready. Someone guided me up onto a wobbly knee-height stool.
From my new vantage point, I could see all the way to the far end of the courtyard. My abandoned cart stood alone in front of a line of freshly planted young mulberry trees. I smiled. Maddy had finished the job.
A scratchy rope appeared around my neck, as thick and round as my forearm. From somewhere I heard boos from the crowd. Protests. Calls to halt the execution. And was that the guild master’s deep voice speaking hurriedly to someone? A man climbed onto the platform and rushed a guard. I heard the clang of steel. Natalina screamed.
But I registered none of it. I could only see the trees.
They stood tall, their angles immaculately straight thanks to expertly-placed guidelines. At their bases lay a blanket of rich, dark, life-giving fertilizer. In a few weeks, the bed would need weeding so that the saplings would get all the necessary nutrients. But with continued attention from a passionate gardener, they would flourish. And maybe, the courtyard of Verling Palace would once again be filled with something beautiful.
Julie is a fantasy author who has worked backstage in live theatre, on the sales floor of a used bookstore, and in the 24/7 chaos of an architecture studio. Born and raised in the Midwest, she adores Cincinnati chili and thin crust pizza but admits that the barbecue is better in Texas.
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