I busy myself by crouching down next to my bed and reaching under the sheets to the small hole in the mattress. With my face hidden, I take the chance to let my guilt rack me, but by the time I rise again, Encatrio in hand, there is no sign of it. I can’t afford weakness, especially not now.

The time has come for little birds to fly. The words echo in my mind, in Ampelio’s voice and in my mother’s. The time has come to avenge them, finally. The time has come to reclaim what is mine, no matter what it costs me.

“The Kaiser will have a dinner in Søren’s honor tonight,” I say. “He always does when a crew returns from battle, and I’m sure he’ll find some way to spin it into a victory. Søren won’t be able to make it through the night without lashing out at the Kaiser. I’ll push him to it if I need to.”

“But if Cress sees you talking to him, she’ll tell the Kaiser about you—” Blaise starts, but I interrupt.

“Cress won’t be there,” I say, the pieces of a plan falling into place. “She’ll miss the banquet, and since he’s due to leave tomorrow, the Theyn will insist on staying to dine with her. He’d rather spend time with his daughter than attend a banquet celebrating a battle he had nothing to do with. The poison will be in the dessert wine, which they should drink close to midnight. And I’ll make plans with Søren to see him after the banquet and then I’ll finish it. We need to send word to Dragonsbane that we’re leaving before morning.”

“What about the girl?” Heron asks. “We’re taking her with us, aren’t we?”

“Yes, and her family.” I press my lips together. “Her mother and brother should be in the slave quarter. Get them on Dragonsbane’s ship this afternoon,” I say after a moment. “But you can’t take Elpis until tonight.”

* * *

—

The Theyn is the last person I want to see today, but I console myself with the knowledge that he’ll be dead soon and unable to hurt me—or anyone—ever again. I won’t wake up screaming from nightmares about him. I won’t cower when he enters a room. I won’t have to look into the face of my mother’s murderer and smile.

The Encatrio is warm in the pocket of my dress, a constant reminder of its presence and its power. I don’t think about Crescentia. As difficult a choice as this is, I am doing the right thing. The only thing.

I knock on the door to Crescentia and the Theyn’s quarters, and only a moment passes before the door opens to reveal Elpis’s round face.

“Lady Thora,” she says. She’s surprised, but she’s careful to keep her face blank. She has the makings of a good little spy, though I hate that I made her into that. I hate that I now have to ask more of her.

“Is Crescentia here?” I ask her.

She glances behind her to make sure no one is listening nearby. “Lady Crescentia is having lunch with the Prinz,” she tells me in a hushed tone.

“Oh?” I ask. I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s an arrangement, of course, orchestrated by the Kaiser and the Theyn. “Well, I can’t blame her for finding his company preferable to mine, but please tell her I stopped by.”

I don’t make a move to leave and she casts a glance behind her to make sure we’re alone. “Is there anything else?” she asks meaningfully. “The Theyn is out as well.”

“You said your mother was a botanist before the siege. I don’t suppose you know your way around plants and herbs as well?”

Elpis’s forehead creases, but she nods. “Passably, yes.”

“Can you think of something that might make Crescentia ill enough to miss the banquet for the Prinz tonight, but not too ill to partake in her evening meal?”

She chews on her lip for a moment. “I don’t think there is an ill enough that would make Lady Crescentia miss this banquet.”

Elpis has a point. Tonight will bring Cress one step closer to becoming a prinzessin. She’ll spend the whole night at Søren’s side and the entire court will be whispering about it. She wouldn’t miss it if she were dying. But…

“What if you put something in her powders that would affect her appearance?” I suggest. “She wouldn’t want to go to the banquet then.”

A small smile works its way to Elpis’s mouth, growing wider. “Ground treska seeds. That would irritate her skin, even cause it to swell if I use enough.”

“Use enough,” I tell her, not wanting to take any chances. And though I’m not proud of it, the idea of Cress’s lovely face red and swollen gives me some satisfaction. “Do you have access to it?”

“Yes, we keep some whole seeds in the pantry to use as a spice. Grinding them up will be easy,” she says, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet in excitement. “I can do it tonight when she’s preparing for the banquet.”

“Perfect,” I say. “Thank you, Elpis.”

I should leave it at that, but I linger for a moment more, another favor weighing heavy on my tongue. I search for a different way even as I know there isn’t one. I will never have the strength to poison Cress myself. I know that now. But looking at Elpis, seeing the uncomplicated hate she feels for Cress and the Theyn, I know she does. “Would you like to do more?” I ask her.

Elpis’s eyes widen. “Please,” she breathes.

I only let myself hesitate for a second before I draw the Encatrio vial from my pocket. “Then I have another job for you. You’re welcome to say no, Elpis. I won’t be angry. We’ll find another way. One of my Shadows is fetching your mother and brother now, putting them on a ship to safety. You’ll be with them by tonight, I promise, no matter what you choose.”

Elpis listens intently as I outline my plan, nodding along with her mouth twisted and her brow furrowed. Even as I ask it of her, I know it’s too much. She’s a child, and I’m trying to make her a murderer—like me, I think. This is not a job for a child, and I can almost feel Blaise’s disapproval from wherever he’s watching me.

Though, really, I’m not making Elpis anything the Kaiser and the Theyn and even Crescentia haven’t already made her. In a way, the Kalovaxians raised her, too.

So of course, she says yes.

ERIK IS WAITING IN FRONT of my door when I return, one hand on the pommel of the sword sheathed at his hip. He doesn’t look like he’s even taken the time to change since he left his ship—he’s still dressed in rough-spun breeches and a white shirt in need of a good cleaning. Coal is smeared along his cheekbones to direct the sun away from his eyes. I’m a few feet away from him when the smell of sweat and fish hits me so hard it makes me dizzy.