Page 133 of Heartbreak Prince

We climb the wooden steps and follow the guard down a cramped stone corridor and into a room with narrow windows overlooking no man’s land. There’s a desk in the space, and a figure rises from behind it—an imposing woman whose black hair is streaked with gray. Her left eye is concealed with a patch, and bandages cover that side of her head. But her bearing and her healing glyphs are unmistakable.

“Lady Kaenan,” I gasp. “You’re alive. And in charge of the West Gate!”

“I had to retrieve my husband’s body, didn’t I?” she says. “And the bodies of the loyal guards who fought to get you and Vawn across the border.”

“Of course. I would expect nothing less from you.”

She nods and takes out a cigarette. “We fought when they came for us. I took a flaming arrow to the eye. Didn’t even know I was alive for a few days, but after that, you’d best believe I gathered everyone for whom I’d ever done a favor, and we took back this fucking gate and buried our men and women. Now, Forsythia Lecari, tell me that the last prince of House Molloi, the one for whom my husband died, is still alive.”

“He is,” I promise her. “He’s safe at the Celestial Seat.”

“Safe is a relative term,” she mutters, lighting her cigarette. “I assume you have a plan, sneaking back into this shitshow of a kingdom? Your eyes have the light of a woman on a mission. If there’s a scheme under way, you’d best tell me all about it. I’ll help however I can.”

I keep my report concise. Lady Kaenan seems unsurprised by the terms of Vawn’s contract—apparently she knew that to gain the use of the Tularesk army, he would have to marry the Twins. I can’t imagine that she approved, but then again, for all her compassion, she is a woman who can make difficult choices.

“I’m glad Vawn is well out of that mess with the Lieges,” she says. “Though he seems to have jumped straight into another one. Rightful king of two countries, now, eh? Lord Kaenan would have been so proud of our boy.” Her lip trembles—a barely perceptible quiver—and she hastily takes another pull at the cigarette. “As for the rest of the plan… it just might work. It shows a good knowledge of the human appetite for tragedy and martyrdom. They’ll mourn Vawn, celebrate him, and wish they could have kissed him. And then, when he returns, he’ll be lauded as their savior. For Tularesk, he actually is their savior.” She blows out a cloud of purple smoke. “Can’t buy any stronger loyalty than that. What do you need from me?”

“We need you to let some people in,” I tell her. “They’ll come in groups of two or three, pretending to be merchants or emissaries. Don’t check them for weapons—they’ll be carrying hidden ones. Each group of two or three will have a handful of others with them, equipped with stealth glyphs to sneak through undetected. All you have to do is leave the gate open for several extra minutes when you let the fake merchants through, so the others can slip in behind them.”

“The refugees from the encampment won’t take kindly to us letting in so many tradespeople.” She sighs. “We’ve been sending firewood and soup out to the tents, but we can’t keep it up. Those families need shelter and homes. I’d let them in if I could, but we can’t risk drawing the attention of the Redemptive Authority. We’ve got a few Redeemer helmets, and my men wear them occasionally when patrols are around, so the Exemplar will think this gate still belongs to him. If I begin allowing more people through, his patrols are bound to notice.”

“Not if you do it gradually, and if some of them enter under stealth effect,” I assure her. “If this works, Vawn will have his throne by week’s end, and it will no longer be an issue. The policy will have changed, and the gates can be opened wide.”

The Lady nods. “We’ll make it work somehow. Although moving an army through a single gate in small groups is quite the challenge.”

“The moment they’re through, they need to disperse and pretend to be going in different directions,” I continue. “They have orders to make their way to the main trade road and travel as fast as possible to Kyr. Please do whatever you can to speed them on their way.”

Lady Kaenan smiles. “My husband and I have been garnering goodwill throughout the Grey Province for decades, my girl. These folks may have been uncertain about the regime change at first, but the events at this gate rallied them against the Exemplar. They will support the prince and his allies for my sake, in the memory of my sweet husband.”

My throat tightens, and tears prickle in my eyes. It’s gratitude, I think, or admiration for her, or sorrow for the gentle lord who offered me his arm and treated me so kindly. Maybe all three.

“Cordall and I need to go,” I tell her. “We have to start spreading the news of the prince’s death.”

“Use my castle if you need anything.” Lady Kaenan slips a large ring from her finger and hands it to me. “Show this to my steward at the door. He’ll help you, and he knows all the people I trust—the ones who can help you spread the rumor, but who can also hold the truth until the time is right.”

“Thank you.” I slip the ring onto my left thumb. “And may I ask you for one more favor? Send Vawn something. A message, a gift, anything to let him know you’re alive and that you helped us. It will cheer him immensely. He didn’t want me to leave.”

“Ah.” Lady Kaenan smiles. “I thought you might have left out a little something. The two of you finally talked it out, eh?”

“We did.”

“Loving that boy is the easiest thing in the world, until it’s not,” she says gently. “I hope you’re ready for what it means.”

“If my heart’s going to break, he’s the only one I want breaking it.” My voice is rough, tear-shaken, but I push through. I have to say these words aloud, and somehow I know this woman will understand. Even if I couldn’t say the words to Vawn, I can say them to her. “If I’m going to be devastated, ruined, hurt, betrayed, or even killed, I want it to be by his hand or in his service.”

Lady Kaenan breathes out more smoke. “True love is a bitch.”

“It really is.”

She offers me the cigarette, and I relent, taking a pull and releasing pink wisps into the air. It feels like a ritual, cementing more than a temporary promise of help.

If we survive what’s coming, this will be a lifelong friendship.

27

In my final year at the Academy, my “Etiquette & Noblesse” class went on a tour of the palace. I remember the impossibly high ceilings, the beautiful stained-glass windows, the art galleries and the libraries. I recall the throne room, too, dominated by the huge royal seat, intricately wrought of dark metal and inset with more panes of thick stained glass in crimson, blue, and violet.

The throne room looks the same, but there are different banners hanging from the pillars, featuring ebony serpents instead of the stained-glass crown that has long been the emblem of the Molloi dynasty. And on the throne itself, wearing a mask covered in diamond snakes, with one leg arched over the other, is the Exemplar.