Don’t draw attention to yourself. Don’t set yourself above others. He who makes himself high will be cast down low. But what of the man who murders one of his daughters to save the other? What of the man who claims—to your face—that the switch was for other reasons? That it was for the good of Idris? That it wasn’t about favoritism at all?
What of the king who betrayed the highest tenets of his religion by purchasing Breath for one of his spies?
Vivenna blinked at a tear in her eye, then gritted her teeth, angry at herself and the world. Her father was supposed to be a good man. The perfect king. Wise and knowing, always sure of himself and always right.
The man she saw in these letters was far more human. Why should she be so shocked to learn that?
It doesn’t matter, she told herself. None of that matters. Factions in the Hallandren government were rallying the nation for war. Reading her father’s candid words, she finally believed him completely. Hallandren troops would likely march on her homeland before the year was out. And then, the Hallandren—so colorful yet so deceptive—would hold Siri hostage and threaten to kill her unless Dedelin surrendered.
Her father would not give up his kingdom. Siri would be executed.
And that is what I’m here to stop, Vivenna thought. Her hands grew tighter, gripping the edges of the desktop, jaw set. She brushed away the traitorous tear. She had been trained to be strong even when surrounded by an unfamiliar city and its people. She had work to do.
She rose, leaving the letters on the table with the bag of coins and Lemex’s journal. She made her way down the stairs, avoiding the broken steps, to where the mercenaries were teaching Parlin how to play a game with wooden cards. The three men looked up as Vivenna approached. She settled herself carefully on the floor, sitting with her legs beneath her in an unassuming posture.
She met their eyes as she spoke. “I know where some of Lemex’s money came from,” she said. “Idris and Hallandren will soon go to war. Because of this threat, my father gave much greater resources to Lemex than I’d realized. He sent enough money for Lemex to buy fifty Breaths, allowing him to enter the court and report on its proceedings. Obviously, my father didn’t know that Lemex already had a sizable amount of Breath.”
The three men were silent. Tonk Fah shot a glance at Denth, who sat back, resting against an overturned, broken chair.
“I believe that Lemex was still loyal to Idris,” she said. “His personal writings make that relatively clear. He was not a traitor; he was simply greedy. He wanted as much Breath as possible because he had heard that it extended a person’s life. Lemex and my father had planned to hinder the war preparations from inside Hallandren. Lemex promised he would find a way to sabotage the Lifeless armies, damage the city’s supplies, and generally undermine their ability to wage war. For him to accomplish this, my father sent him a large sum of money.”
“About five thousand marks’ worth?” Denth asked, rubbing his chin.
“Less than that,” Vivenna said. “But a large chunk nonetheless. I believe that you are right about Lemex, Denth—he has been stealing from the Crown for some time.”
She fell silent. Parlin looked confused. That wasn’t uncommon. The mercenaries, however, didn’t look surprised.
“I don’t know if Lemex intended to do as my father asked,” Vivenna said, keeping her voice even. “The way he hid the money, some of the things he wrote . . . well, maybe he was finally planning to turn traitor and run. We can’t know what he would eventually have decided. We do, however, have a vague list of things he planned to accomplish. Those plans were convincing enough to persuade my father, and the urgency of his letters has convinced me. We are going to continue Lemex’s work and undermine Hallandren’s ability to wage war.”
The room fell silent. “And . . . your sister?” Parlin finally asked.
“We will get her out,” Vivenna said firmly. “Her rescue and safety is our first priority.”
“That is all easier discussed than accomplished, Princess,” Denth said.
“I know.”
The mercenaries shared a look. “Well,” Denth finally said, standing up. “Better get back to work, then.” He nodded at Tonk Fah, who sighed and grumbled, standing.
“Wait,” Vivenna said, frowning. “What?”
“I figured once you saw those papers that you’d want to continue,” Denth said, stretching. “Now that I’ve seen what he was up to, I can piece together why he had us do some of the things we were involved in. One of those was to contact and support some rebellious factions here in the city, including one that was stamped out just a few weeks back. Cult of disaffection centered on a guy named Vahr.”
“Always wondered why Lemex gave him support,” Tonk Fah said.
“That faction’s dead,” Denth said, “along with Vahr himself. But a lot of his followers are still around. Waiting for trouble to come their way. We can contact them. There are a few other leads I think we can look into, things Lemex didn’t explain completely, but which I might be able to figure out.”
“And . . . you can handle something like this?” Vivenna asked. “You just said it wouldn’t be easy.”
Denth shrugged. “Won’t be. But if you haven’t realized it yet, this kind of thing is why Lemex hired us. A team of three high-priced, specialist mercenaries isn’t exactly the type of thing you keep around to serve your tea.”
“Unless you want the tea rammed up someplace uncomfortable,” Tonk Fah noted.
Three mercenaries? Vivenna thought. That’s right. There’s another one. A woman. “Where’s the other member of your team?”
“Jewels?” Denth asked. “You’ll meet her soon enough.”