Still. Akeylah had seen the papers Rueno held. She’d recognized the handwriting. How much of what Rueno said was true, and how much had been fabricated by the heir?

“Now Rueno is demanding to hear Ren’s sentence from Father himself.” Akeylah held up a narrow waistcoat and matching silk trousers. “Do you think this would fit me?”

Rozalind dropped onto the bed. “Well. People had to discover your father’s condition eventually. I know you’d hoped for more time to prepare, but—what are you doing?”

Akeylah had stepped into the silk trousers and begun to tug them up under her skirt. “If Rueno has his way, he’ll get the court to sentence Ren to death. She doesn’t stand a chance. Not for a crime like this.” Akeylah secured the trousers and peeked to check the scar on her thigh. Good. The glow didn’t show through the dark silk.

“Burnt Bay was a horrible atrocity, Akeylah. Aiding rebels in committing it… You said Florencia asked you to distance yourself from her. Perhaps you should listen.” Rozalind’s voice faltered as Akeylah pulled her shift dress over her head.

Only then did Akeylah realize, face flushing, that she wore no slip beneath. She turned around to fasten her father’s waistcoat. It was too big in the shoulders and pinched tight at the waist. Still, it fit well enough to pass a distant inspection.

“None of this explains why you’re dressing in Andros’s clothes,” Rozalind pointed out.

“Just a test run. This is where the irresponsible part comes in.” Akeylah took a deep breath and met Rozalind’s gaze in the mirror. “I’m going to use a camouflage tithe.”

Rozalind’s eyes shot wide. “Akeylah, no.”

“It’ll only last a couple of minutes, so I need you to act as go-between. We’ll arrange it for tomorrow morning, first thing.” By then, her daily shield tithe would have worn off. It would be a risk—she’d be open to the heir’s attacks until she was able to shield herself again. But saving Ren was worth it.

“You can meet Rueno and the Talon captain in the sitting room,” Akeylah said to Rozalind. “Tell them I—I mean, the king—has a terrible flu. Then you escort them in, and I’ll whisper my instructions. We can say I lost my voice, too, because if they hear me speak they’ll figure me out in a second,” she muttered, more to herself than to Rozalind.

“This is madness.”

“It’s our only option.” Akeylah strode toward the queen.

Rozalind rose to meet her. “You’re putting yourself in danger for a wanted criminal, Akeylah. What if the tithe wears off too soon? If you’re caught doing this…”

Akeylah captured Rozalind’s hands. Held them to her chest. “If I don’t try, how can I live with myself?” She held the queen’s gaze. “She’s my sister, Roz.”