It was convenient, Flora reflected, as she jogged along the corridor in Cassius’s wake, that here they didn’t have to convince anyone of the prince’s identity.
Cassius proved to be correct about his father’s location. They burst into the council chamber that Cassius had referred to as a war room, to find the king bent over a map with advisors huddled around him.
“Father!”
Cassius strode into the room, his presence at its most commanding despite his ripped and bloodied clothes and the generally disheveled air of travel.
“Cassius!”
King Aelius hastened to meet his son, the relief on his face softening Flora to him slightly. It seemed he did care. The king clapped his son on the shoulder, his eyes searching the prince’s form.
“You’re injured,” he said darkly. “Who did this to you? They will be crushed.”
His eyes slid past Cassius, hardening as they landed on Flora.
“The spy! Seize her!”
The guards at the door surged forward, and Flora found herself roughly seized. She was taken by surprise, and a gasp of pain escaped her as their hands closed over her bruised limbs.
“STOP.” Cassius’s voice was so terrible, even Flora felt a thrill go down her spine. “Unhand her immediately.”
“Cassius, you don’t know everything,” the king toldhim. “She has been working against you all this time. She’s—”
“You are misinformed, Father,” Cassius said. “And I know by whom. I—”
“Your Highness.”
The loathsomely familiar voice made Flora freeze, and Cassius stopped mid-sentence, his face going pale with fury. They both turned, and outrage rose in Flora as she saw Sir Keavling, moving forward with casual grace from the corner where he’d remained unnoticed.
“What an incredible relief to see you safely returned!”
The imposter spoke smoothly, but his eyes glittered with a new light as they rested on the prince. His audacity was breathtaking—he was walking right up to Cassius, one hand on his heart as he spoke. Flora struggled with the guards, every instinct protesting the sight of the murderous imposter coming so close to Cassius. She cast frantically around for a source of movement—hampered as she was, she could find nothing better than the pendulum of the great clock that hung on the wall behind the king. She snatched desperately at the Dust it was stirring up, ignoring her own energy stores as she threw the magic indiscriminately at the guards holding her.
With startled cries, they pulled their burning hands back. Flora lunged toward Sir Keavling just as Cassius squared up to the traitor.
“You vile—”
Cassius’s words were cut off by Flora’s scream of warning. Sir Keavling, carefully positioned so that his body hid his hands from the king and his advisors, had yanked a short blade from his belt. As Flora leaped forward, he plunged it toward Cassius.
Flora’s movements weren’t enough to allow her tomagically destroy or even block his weapon. But after all, she had received regular guard training as well. She threw her shoulder into the imposter, knocking him sideways and sending the blade clattering from his hand. There was a brief and frantic scuffle, during which his hands found her throat, then the next moment, he stilled.
Flora extricated herself, struggling up to see that Cassius had acquired a blade—presumably from one of the guards—and was holding it to Sir Keavling’s throat.
“If you touch her again,” he told the man calmly, “I will run this blade through your heart before your next breath can pass your lips.” His eyes passed to Flora. “Are you all right?”
She nodded shakily, moving to his side. The guards didn’t attempt to seize her again.
“What is going on?” King Aelius demanded, appearing alongside Cassius and gripping his shoulder as if to reassure himself his son remained uninjured. “What just happened?”
“What happened,” Cassius told him, “is that Flora undertook a final act as my bodyguard and prevented Sir Keavling from plunging that blade into me.” He kicked it with his foot, sending it further from the downed imposter.
“But…I don’t understand.”
King Aelius was looking from his son to the man on the floor. To Flora’s disbelief, he looked like he was still grasping for an explanation where his favorite advisor wasn’t at fault.
“I do,” Cassius said in a hard voice. “He didn’t produce the blade until Flora leaped forward to my defense. I have no doubt he intended to kill me and make it look as though she had done it. You would not have believed her testimony,and he would have been free to continue spinning his lies.”
There was hatred in his eyes as he stared down at Sir Keavling.