Page 60 of The Princess of Nothing
He shrugged. “What can they do to you that they haven’t threatened to already?”
“Burn my people at stakes. It’s what they tried to do two centuries ago.”
“Berovia’s people would revolt over such violence.”
“Not if they don’t know.” I thought of the dragons. “Cedric, I need to find a news writer. A big one. Please.”
He tapped his chin. “I know where there is one. Come on.”
He pulled my hand as we walked into the center of town. My eyes flitted to the odd person who’d risen early. Soon the sun would be fully up, and many would be on high alert, even in Woodbarrow.
“Once done,” I said quickly as I matched his pace, “we must leave.”
“Where do we go? I want to take you to the fae court, but my father, he would not risk upsetting Xenos. I cannot trust your safety there. I could, perhaps, take you to one of my beach houses, but they will look there. They knew I was with you when we were first caught.”
“I understand.” I peered down a narrow, cobbled street, spotting a black metal sign sticking out: Woodbarrow Times. “I see it.”
We hurried down the street, and my eyes crinkled. A fishy odor hit my nose. I could see where the sea merged with the sky at the port beyond the shops and houses. Cedric tugged me toward the white stone building with a sign reading Woodbarrow Times.
The bell above the door tinkled as Cedric walked inside. I followed, looking behind me to ensure we weren’t being followed.
Behind a polished mahogany counter, a tall, bespectacled man was reading a parchment, not looking up. His fingers danced near a pot of ink. “Yes?”
“We have a story,” I said.
“We’re not taking any new stories today.”
“You’ll want this one.” I pulled the envelopes out of my dress.
His eyes flashed brightly. “The king’s seal.” He noticed. “Broken.”
“By the king,” I stated. “Not us. These are authentic.”
“Why wouldn’t I go to the royal family?”
“You can, but you’d be mistaken to do so.”
He pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his long nose. “What is in those letters?”
“My name is Winter Mortis, Princess of Magaelor, and I was a prisoner here, forced into marrying Prince Kiros. Kept in the pits, tortured at first, I saw them: two dragons, brought here to be tortured.”
I paused for a breath but continued, despite Cedric’s scrutinizing eyes.
“They are planning to siphon the dragons’ magic. I heard it from Xenos’s mouth, and the proof is in here.” I waved the letters in the air. “He wants to invade Magaelor and dethrone my cousin, Edgar—who doesn’t know I’m alive—and with dragons’ magic, he will. I can’t force you to print any of this, but I hope you do the right thing. He will be too busy with the firedrake warders, anti-monarchists, and angry subjects to do anything to your paper, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
The small man’s eyes rounded. He grabbed a spare piece of parchment. “Can I quote your words?”
“Yes.”
I slid the envelopes across the counter. He placed the pen down and took them. His eyes ran over each line.
Cedric grabbed my hand. “Winter.”
“Wait.”
“No.” He tugged my arm and pointed through the glass with his other hand. “Look.” He pointed at the small window. “There are guards searching the street. One is coming this way.”
I turned, gasping. “Please do the right thing!” I shouted before heading to the door.
