I took the stairs carefully, wincing as they squeaked and groaned under my weight. They ended in a narrow hallway behind the bar, the jangle of cooking utensils and scent of spices emanating from the kitchen at the other end. The barmaid appeared, bearing a tray similar to my dinner tray. I ducked back into the stairwell as she hurried past, bound for the front room.

"...make it out after me. She's closed Suprelizia. Thank you, this looks scrumptious."

I didn't recognize the voice.

"Closed?"

That was Frederico. Silence fell as whoever the other voice was seemed to be eating.

"Every servant is required to bear a written order stamped with a special seal, one she has given only to those who have sworn fealty to her. Every delivery wagon is turned inside-out. Half the servants have disappeared after what she's done and the other half are too terrified of what she might do to do anything but follow their orders."

As the voice spoke, the barmaid hurried back to the kitchen and I slipped out from the staircase. Sidling down the hall, I crouched, using the height of the bar to conceal my entry into the front room. Unsure whether the barmaid would return and notice me crouching, hidden, I crept to the end of the bar farthest from where Frederico and his men sat. It was dark here, the shifting light from the fireplace near the prince's table barely reaching this end of the tavern. They seemed to be the only occupants, so I hoped that the barmaid would have no reason to come near me as I settled in to listen.

"What has she done?" Frederico asked. The hesitation was ominous.

"She issued a blood order that night." Another loaded pause. "The poisoning of the duques was seemingly not enough to keep the nobles in her thrall. Delminas and Dellanos survived the coup by bending the knee. The others..."

The group waited while the unknown voice seemed to gather the courage to say what came next.

"She went to their palacios and rounded up the families of Delmar and Delbosque. The Delmar line has ended, executed because of the duque's treason in sharing poisoned wine."

"And the Carvalhos?" That was Rafael, his voice hitching as he spoke his family name.

"Their palacio sits empty, after Dulciana's men tore through it. The duque and the duquesa died in the palace, as did Alfonso and Eliana."

A chair screamed against the stone floor.

"She was with child!" Rafael roared.

Someone murmured something, to which Rafael simply growled, his heavy footsteps echoing before the tavern door screeched open and slammed shut. Silence settled once again, a dart of pity for the big man who'd stormed outside. His entire family, slaughtered because they wouldn't bend the knee to the usurper. I thought back to the women in the open air landau in the streets of High Relizia. It seemed a lifetime ago, the duquesa's easy smile, her eldest daughter's protective arm around the younger one.

Dead, all of them.

"What of Armando?" Frederico asked quietly, his tone sobered and sad.

"The morning I fled, the rumours said he was to be crowned Duque Delmar in the place of his late father."

More curses, Frederico's the loudest among them. Footsteps approached from the hallway behind the bar and I shrank back even farther into the shadows.

If Armando, the bastard son of the Duque Delmar, assumed his executed father's title, Dulciana could marry him to legitimize her claim to the throne. I shook my head, marvelling despite my disgust at the scope of her plan. She'd driven her brother from the palace, fleeing for his life, and elevated the man she loved onto the throne beside her, all in one fell swoop.

"I don't know how much more we'll be able to learn. She has cloistered herself in the palace and exterminated anyone who did not swear their fealty to her. Lower Relizia is in an uproar. For what it's worth, your name is being whispered in the taverns and not because they believe the lie that you were the one behind the plot to kill the king."

"I fled. She will use that as an admission of guilt," Frederico said, his tone coloured by disgust and anger rather than self-pity.

"We can-" began another voice, but I missed the last part as a hand seized me roughly by the arm, hauling me up into the light.

Beatriz' angry brown eyes met mine before she turned me around and threw me forward, towards her brother's table. Three of the men rose, hands reaching for the hilts of their swords. I stumbled, catching myself on a table before drawing myself up, reaching for my rage to slam it into place on my face so the guilt at being caught wouldn't shine through.

"Your best course of action would be to stoke the commoners," I said, "She has barred the gates to High Relizia because she is afraid of them."

Frederico's chair scraped as he stood, his fists balled. The map Rafael had been carrying was spread across the table, a corner obstructed by a dinner tray currently being devoured by a slender young man with keen dark eyes. He wore the clothes of a commoner, but he'd spoken with the assurance of a soldier. He was the messenger, the one who had clearly ridden hard from Relizia to deliver the news I'd overheard.

"You dare to eavesdrop on me?" Frederico demanded in Pretanian.

"You're not thinking like a king yet, so yes. Someone needs to keep you in check," I countered, keenly aware of the looks his men exchanged. Frederico ground his teeth before jabbing a finger towards the stairs. He said something in Bazeran, which had Beatriz' iron grip on my arm again, marching me towards the stairs.

"Lock the damned door this time," Frederico called after us, chairs scraping as he and his men resumed their seats.

I attempted to shrug out of Beatriz' hold, but she held fast, all but kicking open the door to my room. She released me for the briefest of moments, already reaching to close the door behind her, when her eyes landed on the table. My forgotten dinner tray sat there, cooling in the night air, the vial of antidote untouched beside it.

She pressed her eyes closed, breathing out an annoyed sigh as she seized me once again.

"You don't have to-" I started, fighting my wince at the strength of her grip as she dumped me into the chair.

"I have worn out my patience with princes who are incapable of following orders," she said, reaching for the vial and uncorking it with a jerk of her thumb. "You are a damned fool, idiota."

She pressed the glass to my lips, the scarred part of her face hidden in the shadows of flickering light from the candle near the bed. I held her gaze, annoyed that I'd forgotten the remedy in my haste to learn something, anything about Giles. This time, I only huffed a cough after I swallowed it, growing accustomed to the awful taste.

"I wanted to ask after my valet," I said, when she turned on her heel, satisfied that I'd swallowed the potion like a proper, obedient patient and not the idiot prince she clearly thought me to be.

My words stilled her feet.

"Your valet?" she repeated, frowning.

"Giles," I said. "I need to know that he survived Dulciana's coup."

"What does it matter?" she asked, though her tone wasn't impatient. Instead, it seemed confused.

"Because he's a friend," I said hotly.

Beatriz regarded me, the anger that had twisted her face since she'd discovered me sliding from her features.

"A friend," she repeated, as if she couldn't quite believe me.

"If that isn't enough for you and your incompetent brother to inquire after him for me, then consider that Giles is one of the few people I trust to bring the truth home to my parents," I countered, annoyed by her skepticism.

True, Giles was a servant, but during my time in Ardalone he'd become more than that. He was my confidant and only friend here. I'd assumed that Beatriz, unlike her other supercilious sisters, would understand a royal being friendly with a servant. I'd begun to doubt that assessment, until her face continued to change before me. Whether it was because I had convinced her or because she could see the usefulness of someone like Giles undermining Dulciana's lies about Frederico staging the coup, the doubt was gone from her features now.

"You need someone to tell the rest of the world that Frederico did not collude with the Duque Delmar to poison the king," I continued, taking advantage of her silence to press my cause on the one person who had deigned to listen. "Your brother and I are the only surviving witnesses who haven't sworn fealty to her. The truth must be spread before her lies gain traction in Ardalone and abroad. Frederico's flight is incriminating, especially if Dulciana is fabricating a story that Frederico and the Duque Delmar colluded together to kill the king and hasten Frederico's ascent to the throne. She will paint herself as a victim, a lucky survivor. She's already shown that she'll use the coup as an excuse to cleanse the court of anyone whose loyalty is in question. We need to be sure Giles made it out alive, Beatriz."

Her name on my lips seemed to pull her from her thoughts, her eyes leaping back to mine from where they'd fallen to my untouched dinner tray. The steel was back in her expression now, but she'd been deep in thought while I spoke. She inspected me for a moment longer, considering, and when I opened my mouth to further convince her, she turned abruptly on her heel and left the room.

The unmistakable click of a lock preceded the sound of her footsteps receding down the hall. I could only hope that she'd believed me enough to help me.

**A/N: Whew, there it was! One giant chapter split into two to ease my editing! I hope 2018 is treating you all as well as it's treating me and, once again, thank you so much for all your kind well wishes! You'll all be quite happy to know that I'll be trying to stick to my usual updating schedule, so no more giant hiatus for me.

If you enjoyed it, as always, please take a moment to vote and comment! :) **