Page 33 of The Rebel's Prize

"In fact, I believe Si Hanaan, who owns the theater, had such a group here last year. I was out of town performing in Jinkara, so I did not manage to see them myself, but they had a very good reception. My friends were talking about it for weeks. Apparently, they had an illusioner amongst their number, and the effects they used were second to none." Her smile turned a little lopsided. "We do not use illusions as it is not our tradition, but I have seen performances where they can do amazing things. But of course, the two of you are Illvyan, and surely you have seen performances in the capital and would know all too well what such things are."

"We have been fortunate to see performances in Lumia a time or two," Chloe agreed. "Some of them are simply astonishing. My husband has a preference for opera, and illusions are quite common in those."

Lucien tried to look as though opera was his life. "Yes. It's startling what they can achieve. That kind of troupe sounds like it would be quite the coup for us to obtain for our theater's opening season. Do you recall the name?"

The redhead's forehead wrinkled. "It was something unusual. But I am sorry, no, I do not recall. My brain turns to mush after a performance."

"It must take a lot of energy," Chloe said, sounding sympathetic. "We should not keep you much longer. Perhaps we can ask Si Hanaan. Is he likely to still be here?"

"Oh, yes. He always stays and closes up himself. He will probably be in his office downstairs. I can show you where that is."

He saw a flash of triumph in Chloe's eyes before she offered a demure smile of thanks. "That would be wonderful. If it's permitted for us to be there?"

Sa Maibe nodded. "You are with me. We are performing for a few more nights, so at the moment, the backstage belongs to us, and no one will question me having some guests. Come, it will only take a minute for me to show you where Si Hanaan's office is. It is hardly an inconvenience."

"Well, we are grateful for your kindness," Chloe said.

Sa Maibe nodded. "Come then, I will show you now."

* * *

"Well, that was informative," Chloe said as they headed back to the inn. It hadn't taken long for Si Hanaan to supply them with the name of the troupe that had made such a splash with its illusions once Chloe and Lucien had repeated their story about friends opening a theater in Illvya.

Her heart had started pounding when Si Hanaan had immediately known the troupe Sa Maibe was referring to. Chloe had been hard-pressed not to leave immediately and hurry to the inn so Lucien could send a message to Lumia.

The Silver Crown Players. She kept turning the name around in her head, wondering if it held any particular significance. Any time she'd seen Aristides in a crown, it had been gold. But regardless of whether the name was meaningful, it was a lead. Something the emperor could focus his resources on finding.

Lucien made a noise of agreement, and she glanced up at him. He was focused on the street ahead of them, eyes scanning the crowd. He'd taken her arm again as soon as they'd set foot outside the theater, and the muscles in his forearm were tense under her hand. Perhaps he thought it safer to wait until they could talk back in the privacy of the inn.

She turned her mind back to the conversation with Si Hanaan. He'd had no news of the troupe for a few months but was still expecting them back later in the year. According to him, they spent most of the summer in the north, retreating south as the weather grew inhospitable. Maybe their silver crown was the snowcapped mountains of the north. Partha wasn't as mountainous as Andalyssia, but its ranges were still known for being dangerous in winter.

There were still enough people moving through the streets in the warm night air to make their progress toward the inn slow. She wanted to tug Lucien forward, but he seemed content with the leisurely pace.

She bit her tongue, trying not to let her excitement override good sense. The journey back to the inn probably only took ten minutes, but it felt like an age.

As they climbed the stairs in the inn, Lucien tugged at his cravat, blowing out a breath.

"Something bothering you?" she asked.

"Just the weather in this country."

The warmth of the day didn't seem to have lessened much at all. The air was heavy and damp feeling despite the heat. Even with the lighter dress, she was close to too hot. Within the confines of the town, there seemed to be less of the breezes that had made the last few nights in the caravan bearable. And Lucien was wearing warmer clothes than her.

"It will be better in the rooms. As long as the cooling charms hold up." She passed through the door he held for her and breathed out a sigh of relief as the cooler air in the inn's foyer registered. She glanced back at Lucien. "Do you want to talk in your room or mine?"

"Mine," he said firmly. "I need to make some notes, and then we can perhaps discuss what needs to happen next."

He was the Truth Seeker, more versed in this kind of thing than she was, so there was no reason she could think of to object. "Your room it is," she said.

She climbed the stairs ahead of him, refusing to look back, wishing she wasn't just that bit too aware of his closeness, the knowledge that they would soon be alone sitting warm and dangerous in the pit of her stomach. Sitting next to him in the dark of the theater had brought back memories of the opera and other nights they'd shared. Part of her had wanted him to shift his hand to take hers, to whisper in her ear about what he'd like to do to her in the dark—not that they could have done anything in the stalls—and she'd devoutly wished for a fan to cool herself at several points until she'd been able to rein in her wayward thoughts.

It took him a few seconds to open the door, the key rattling in the lock. "After you."

She walked into the room and turned to watch him lock the door and lay a hand on the wards to stir them to life.

"I will admit," she said, "it will be nice to see your real face. It's too peculiar to watch you that way."

"Yes," he agreed. "It is odd."

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