Page 3 of Betraying Korth

“He will. Shall I read to you?”

“Not tonight. Play the harp instead.”

I acquiesced and strummed the harp while Odette climbed into bed and stared at the silky gossamer canopy that hung over her bed. I kept a close eye on the moon to track how late it was, and when Odette finally fell asleep, I was able to slip quietly out of the room. Now was when my true work began.

CHAPTER 2

“We should just kill them now before they have the chance to align with a nation that is possibly even more powerful,” Curdy grouched from his position leaning against the damp wall in the cellar.

“Murder creates martyrs,” I mused, pacing the room around the three dozen co-conspirators. “And that’s something no rebellion can afford.”

“So you expect us to start a war without any bloodshed?” Curdy rubbed his thumbs against his temples. “That’s impossible. Isn’t the whole point of this to kill the royals?”

“Eventually, yes,” I agreed. “But it’s too precarious right now. If we tip our hand too soon, then we will lose all the progress we’ve made over the last few years.”

“Over the last several decades,” my father amended. At the sound of his voice, everyone straightened, ears perked and ready to listen to the leader of the rebellion. “The royal family has always been suspicious and won’t let just anyone work in close proximity to them. It has taken the majority of us generations to secure higher positions within the palace. We cannot act until enough of us are in place that we cannot be stopped.”

Murmurs of agreement rolled around the dark wine cellar, lit only by a few guttering candles placed on low tables. The dim light coming from waist height created a ghostly effect on our faces, a fitting representation for the dark deeds we were plotting.

“There is another alternative to taking down the king first,” Declan rumbled. He had a gravelly voice that made the hair at the back of my neck stand on end. If I didn’t know the scarred, middle-aged man was on my side, I would’ve been terrified of him. Everyone listened raptly as he slowly turned his head to ensure he had everyone’s undivided attention.

“With the recent siren treaty in place, the seas have been reopened. Dahlia reported that Princess Odette will be journeying to marry her betrothed, Prince Korth of Haven Harbor.”

“Our people are in slavery, and you want us to think about some entitled royal’s wedding?” Curdy angrily blurted out.

“I agree,” Garrik piped up. “Who cares who she marries? Good riddance to her, I say.”

Declan studied Curdy and Garrik for several long moments, then his eyes roved over the other men present—Thad, Edric, Simon, Steele, and so many others assembled, all eager for our government’s downfall. “You wish for the king’s daughter to form a strong political alliance with the only nation whose navy was capable of taming sirens? What would happen to all the oppressed when our government grows even stronger? You think that her marrying someone with connections to a powerful military willhelpour cause?”

Silence fell as we all digested this information. The ever-increasing political unrest would erupt soon unless the king joined with a stronger kingdom and quashed the rebellion in its infancy. How I’d longed for the simmering insurgence to boil into open revolt. Under new leadership, we would be able tofree those forced into servitude and usher in a new era in which everyone could be seen as equal. We might even be able to elect our own officials. Surely, no monarch could ever be trusted. Power always corrupted. We didn’t need another dictatorship; we needed checks and balances.

“Then what do you suggest?” I asked. “She leaves in less than a week’s time.”

“She may be back pretty soon once her fiancé realizes how annoying she is,” Curdy put in, which earned a few laughs.

“That’s assuming that her fiancé isn’t equally odious,” I returned. “We all know how all royalty are.”

Declan leered evilly. “You’re her handmaiden, though.”

“So? I’m not like her.”

“You’re familiar with the princess’s habits, mannerisms, and duties.”

“I am.” I had an inkling of what Declan was getting at, and the thought made my heart pound.

“You even have a slight resemblance to her,” Declan continued, widening his eyes to the others in the cellar, trying to get them to understand. “Her fiancé hasn’t seen her since before the siren plague began ten years ago. And didn’t you say that she has you compose her letters to him?”

“You want me to take her place,” I stated baldly. “But what purpose would that serve? Why don’t we just kill her on the journey and be done with it? We could claim that the sirens took her life en route.”

Father cut in. “You said it yourself, Dahlia.Murder creates martyrs.We want to rally people to our cause, not set them against us.”

“So, you want Dahlia to go marry some prince?” Curdy asked, a sudden biting edge to his voice.

Garrik shrugged. “Why not? We can take over the crew on the way to Haven Harbor, pass Dahlia off as the princess, and shecan win the prince’s allegiance. Then, instead of contending with an additional armada, we’ll have them on our side.”

Father nodded slowly. “It’s a good plan.”

I thought quickly. There were flaws in this plan, many of them. But if we were going to stage a coup, it would be best to make the attempt on a smaller scale in a distant land rather than trying to overtake the entire palace with far too few of us rebels against well-fed and trained soldiers. Then there was the prospect of an army that could help liberate us…all it would cost was my willingness to seduce a royal and ensure his loyalty.

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