I stuffed the letter and the necklace into my robes and burst out of the mail room, looking around frantically for whoever had sounded the alarm. Guards flooded into the hall from parlors, dining rooms, and servants’ quarters, surging toward the throne room.
“What’s happening?” I shouted, but no one heard me. I scanned the crowd desperately; already the hall was so crammed with guards that it seemed as though I would never be able to get through. Just when I was about to give up all hope, I saw what was (for better or for worse) a familiar face.
“Thyzen!” I yelled. “Thyzen!” I grabbed his coat, tugging at it, repeating his name until finally he looked down at me.
“Anhia,” he said, amicably as usual, but brisk and filled with the self-importance of a clueless apprentice.
“What’s going on?”
“Some kind of riot in the throne room,” he replied. “You should get to safety immediately.”
I was about to tell him a thing or two about safety, but an enormous guard cut between us and I lost sight of him. Funny how Thyzen wasn’t so keen on me now that he had something else to think about.
But one thing was for sure: as far as I knew, Lafrindyx was in that throne room, and I wasn’t getting to any kind of “safety” until I knew she would be with me.