“I’m so sorry. I know I failed—”

“It wasn’t your fault! I’m more concerned that DeLuca was convinced to cut you at all, because it means someone beside the empress has undue influence on him.”

“That’s what I’m worried about too.”

“Do you still think he’s the traitor?”

I shake my head. “Or at least he’s not the traitor. He gives orders like a man who’s been taking orders, and he talked about how the command came from someone who was ‘above his rank and station.’”

“That’s what happens when you teach blind obedience,” Rosario says. “Sometimes it doesn’t matter who the orders come from anymore.”

“But he’s not innocent. He still had—has—a part in this. Someone gave the intruder a key to Bolivar’s quarters, right?”

“Right.” His face falls, and he stares off at nothing in particular. He has the longest, prettiest eyelashes I’ve ever seen, and even though he’s grown tall and lanky, those long-lashed eyes make him seem as vulnerable as a babe. “Red,” he says. “What do I do?”

“Oh, Rosario, I wish I knew.”

“We only found seven of those barrels.”

“What about the ship itself? The Kestrel?”

“Now that was interesting.”

“What do you mean?”

“The ship is long gone, left port more than a week ago. But we tracked down its records . . . it belongs to one of my father’s former mistresses.”

“That is interesting.”

“I have no idea what it means, though.”

“Rosario, maybe you shouldn’t attend the gala. If anything happens, it will be then.”

He straightens, trying to look royal. “I have to. It’s my responsibility. I have to give the annual blessing, show myself around, assure everyone that all is normal. People come from all over the empire to be in the same room with their empress. There’ll be no empress this year, of course, but at least we can give them a prince.”

I’m shaking my head. “It’s not worth it. Not if your safety is at risk. Rosario, I sensed an animagus nearby.”

He draws in breath, but collects himself quickly. “If I don’t go, our adversaries will use my absence to their advantage. ‘See how he doesn’t take his responsibilities seriously?’ they’ll say. ‘See what a coward he is?’” When I don’t respond, he adds, “Besides, I have Efren and Iago to keep me safe.”

“And me.”

He brightens. “And you. I’ll give orders that you’re to be allowed full palace access. Want to stay in my room tonight? You can have the floor.”

I’m so relieved to have somewhere to go. “Yes, please.”

Even though I’m snugged up in the space between the wall and Rosario’s bed, nested into the softest pillows and the most luxurious quilt in the whole empire, I can’t make myself sleep.

I roll everything around in my head: my failed adoption. Captain Bolivar dead, possibly poisoned by the most powerful conde in the empire. Fernando ill, unable to protect Rosario. Barrels of dream syrup hidden somewhere here in the capital. Training for Royal Guard recruits inexplicably stalled. I wish I knew what it all meant.