Aramis seemed to have this same realization, because she tried to jerk backward—which was a bit hard because her arms were around Ranka’s waist, and their legs were tangled together.

Voices came down the hall.

The door flung open. Percy paused in the doorway. A brief, goofy smile lit up his face. “Well, isn’t this sweet.”

Ranka practically tumbled out of the bed, and she didn’t need a mirror to know her face was bright red. She smoothed her clothes as quickly as she could and staggered into a standing position just in time for Foldrey to barge into the room too.

Percy’s smile fell. Aramis looked between them, her eyes still foggy with sleep but already beginning to brighten with worry. “What is it?”

“The witches have changed their mind,” he said. “Galen dies at sunset.”

The palace announcement was brief: Galen Sunra would be executed at sunset to answer for his forefathers’ crimes against Witchik.

Aramis paced the room. “Have we heard back from any of the provinces?”

Foldrey shook his head. “The messengers will be getting there today. And even if they leap into action, soldiers will never arrive in time.”

No one dared speak. Aramis was silent for a long, slow beat, and then she shook her head. “Very well. Then we rescue him now.”

“Princess, we can’t possibly—”

“You had your own small army of Hands and loyal guards prepared to launch a coup, did you not?” Aramis asked coldly.

Foldrey glared back at her. “I did, until half of them defected and another quarter were murdered.” He passed a hand over his face. “I have a handful of men in the city. The rest—if they’re even alive—are probably in the dungeons.”

An idea sparked in Ranka’s mind. She looked up. “A few loyal men won’t be enough—but a whole coven might. Ongrum never won the favor of all the witches, correct? Her grip on power is tenuous at best. That was why she needed me.”

Percy sat up straight. “If we can upstage Galen’s assassination and sway at least one coven to our side…”

“The rest may follow.” Ranka’s heart began to beat faster. “I talked to Ursay, the Oori leader, at the ball. They know about winalin, and they don’t like Ongrum. They fled when the attack started, but if we could get the Oori to take our side and make a stand, the Arlani may switch loyalties too. Then it would only be the Murknen and the Skra. They wouldn’t have the numbers.”

Foldrey looked up. “I can send a messenger to the Oori.”

Ranka shook her head, remembering the dark intelligence in Ursay’s eyes, the fury that sparked there when Ranka had told them of the plague. “One of us will have to go. Ursay’s too smart to risk their coven’s life without promises from someone close to power.”

“I’ll go.”