Prince Thief Read Free

going to be executed, I wouldn’t have bothered to come in person; I’d have sent the city’s sewer cleaners. No, it’s quite the opposite, Mounteban. We’re letting you go.”
    Mounteban’s face didn’t change; neither the veneer of courage nor the strain it failed to mask. “I don’t understand.”
    “What’s not to understand?” Alvantes spat. “You’ve won, damn you. Altapasaeda will get its independence, whether it wants it or not – or else be burned to the ground by its own king. And you’ve poisoned the place so thoroughly that no one will listen to anyone besides you. So get up. Get out. If you really claim any shred of good intentions then make those scum you brought together understand that this city hasn’t a chance without their help.”
    “They’re asking for you, Castilio,” said Estrada. “The alliance you brought together is falling apart. They won’t listen to us. And if they don’t listen to someone, the King will simply march into Altapasaeda in a week’s time, with no one to hinder him.”
    Mounteban’s only response was a stiff nod, as though he’d weighed what they’d told him and found it credible.
    “No gloating?” asked Alvantes, disgust dripping from each syllable. “No grand speech? Not going to explain again how you decided to elect yourself prince of the city for its own good?”
    “Do you think I want this any more than you do?” Now that he wasn’t anticipating an imminent demise, some of Mounteban’s self-possession was beginning to return. “Whether or not you believe it, I did have Altapasaeda’s best interests at heart.”
    Alvantes gave him a ghastly smile. “Of course you did.”
    “Still,” continued Mounteban, “I knew when I started that it might come to this.”
    “You thought the King might come knocking if you absconded with his city? How astute.”
    “I thought there might be some reprisal. So I planned for it... which is more, it seems, than you did, Guard-Captain.”
    Alvantes lurched forward, fist clenched. “I said I’d let you talk to them, Mounteban. I didn’t say what state you’d be in when you got there.”
    In a moment, Mounteban was on his feet, sending his chair clattering to the floor.
    “Stop it! Both of you.” Estrada had advanced too, arms outstretched, as though she’d keep them apart by brute force if need be. “And grow up, damn it! There’s more at stake here than your petty squabbling.” She turned fiercely on Alvantes, who looked both surprised and sheepish. “Leave him alone, Lunto. This isn’t helping anything.”
    If he’d realised, as I had, that Estrada was playing subtly to Mounteban’s ego, Alvantes’s wounded expression gave no sign. He stamped to the far side of the room and turned half away, as though not quite willing to admit he was interested in anything Mounteban had to say.
    Estrada, meanwhile, gave Mounteban a moment to right his chair and sit back down before she said, “Understand, Castilio, that I will never forgive you for the things you’ve done... to me or to this city. But I’ll work with you now, if that’s what it takes. So if you really care about Altapasaeda, tell us your plan. There’s no time for us to play games.”
    “Of course,” Mounteban replied, all surface calm restored. “I was never the one who wanted a conflict, Marina. I’d have gladly worked with you both from the beginning.”
    Alvantes gave a snort of derision, silenced abruptly when Estrada glared at him. “All right,” she said. “We’re listening.”
    I could tell that was what Mounteban had been waiting to hear, for all his old arrogance had returned as he asked, “I trust you’re familiar with the name of the Bastard Prince?”
    Alvantes glowered. “A northerner myth. A phantom to scare the royal court.”
    “Not so,” said Mounteban. “The boy is very real.”
    “Wait a minute,” I said. Thus far, I’d been deliberately keeping out of the conversation – but having only recently heard