I plop down beside him. “What’s keeping you awake?”

He pulls his knees to his chest and rests his chin on top of them. “Captain Bolivar. Still missing. I trained with him. I . . .”

“He was the captain in charge during the year you spent with the Guard.”

“Yes. But not just that. I can’t stop thinking about him . . . Red, what if it wasn’t an accident? What if he was purposely kept away from that audience hall?”

The crickets have fallen silent, and tree frogs are taking up the chorus in their place. Their chirrupy, bell-like sound is something I’ve always found pleasant. It means dawn is not far off.

“I think,” I begin carefully, “that if Bolivar was purposely disposed of, it speaks to a wider plot. A possible coup.”

“Exactly. And with Elisa and Hector leaving, who do you think is the next, most likely target?”

Oh. Understanding lands like a rock in my gut. “You are.”

“I am. And if that adoption had gone through, you would be too. I’m glad you’re going to the Guard.”

The prince is frightened for his life. No wonder he can’t sleep. “What does Elisa think about all this? Surely you’ve shared your suspicions with her. Maybe you should go with her to Orovalle.”

“She says I’ll be well guarded. She also says that we must not consolidate targets. The entire royal family should not be on the road at the same time. And she wants me to stay behind and treat with the Invierno ambassador. To ‘practice my diplomacy.’”

“That sounds like Elisa.”

“Pragmatic to a fault,” he agrees. “I hate that she’s right. Since becoming the ruler of Joya d’Arena, she’s had six attempts on her life. And those are just the ones we know about. She’s always a target. By splitting up, we take some pressure off each other.”

“So what are you going to do about it?”

The prince takes a deep breath. It’s too dim to see his features clearly, but I can hear the frown in his voice when he says, “I’m going to keep my head down. Sleep in a different bed every night. One of my Guards will prepare all my food. I may spend some time training in the Guard hideout beneath the Wallows.”

“I think all that sounds wise.”

After a long pause, he says, “Red, is this what being emperor will be like? Always wondering if the next corner hides an assassin? If my next scone is full of poison? I don’t think I can live like that.”

And I don’t think I have an answer for him. We sit together in silence. Then the monastery bells ring the fourth hour, and it’s like an explosion in my chest. I startle so hard that I bite my tongue.

Rosario waits in patient silence as I breathe deep to settle my heartbeat, in through my nose and out through my mouth, just like Hector taught me. With the metal tang of blood in my mouth comes clarity. I do have an answer for Rosario.