Lillian had lost interest in the secret passageways in the face of Nehemia's grief. Celaena, to Lillian's surprise, didn't say anything about it. She in fact hurried Lillian back to her rooms before disappearing again.

"One day I'm going to follow you," Lillian muttered, but she didn't mean it. Probably.

She needed to tell Dorian about Calaculla so he wouldn't be blindsided by anyone else, and, she realized, for her own peace of mind. She wanted to see if he'd known about it, or known about plans, or helped to make those kind of plans.

Lillian knocked on his door.

"This is a bad habit," Dorian informed her, having opened his own door this time. "I believe I mentioned that some of us need sleep?"

"Don't pretend with me," Lillian said as she stepped past. "I have information."

She was tired of letting Dorian pretend to be idle and carefree. She wanted the real Dorian so she knew if she was supporting the right candidate.

What she'd do if she was supporting the wrong candidate she didn't know yet, but she would figure it out.

"How did you come by this information so late at night with guards on your door who inform me of your comings and goings," Chaol said from the bed, too flatly for it to be a question.

Lillian shot a look in his direction. He stared up at the ceiling as if begging some higher power for patience or possibly apologizing for whatever he'd done to be stuck with her. "Really?" she asked.

She hadn't realized her tone, but she did now: Chaol sat up immediately, and Dorian frowned.

"Are you alright?" Dorian asked.

"No," she said, finally and truthfully. "Every prisoner in Calaculla has been murdered."

"What?" Dorian demanded, taking a jerky step towards her.

"Lillian, this had better be real," Chaol said, standing himself.

"It's real."

"Chaol, get Nesryn. Tell her to keep Nehemia from doing anything stupid," Dorian ordered.

"What's Nesryn going to do about it?" Lillian asked. "I can go."

"Nesryn is creative and can take care of Gwyneth," Dorian retorted. "I don't trust you to say no to Nehemia. I need you to get me Philippa, and then I need you to warn my stepmother."

"Why do you need Philippa?" Lillian demanded as Chaol ran out the door in his nightshirt. "Why do I need to warn the queen about Calaculla? Nesryn's closer to her -"

"Nesryn's in the nursery with Gwyneth, Georgina isn't allowed there at night," Dorian said as if that should have been obvious, heading for the little table that served as his desk. "You've been in and out everywhere, do you know how to get to the queen's rooms?"

"Why?" Lillian finally snapped, grabbing his arm. "It's Nehemia whose people have been killed-"

"Your people, you mean?" Dorian asked gently.

She glared, and he laid a hand over hers. "I'm not an idiot, Celaena," he said. "You asked me to stop pretending. I know you care about Nehemia and Eyllwe, and I have eyes. You think I didn't research you? No Eyllwean nobles, not even one, not that you killed."

Since Lillian hadn't known that about Celaena, she could only stare.

"I know you hate my father," Dorian continued. "I don't blame you, for what he did to your country. I'm trying to live long enough to fix it, alright? I haven't forgotten I'm supposed to care."

Dorian thought Celaena was an Eyllwean loyalist, which, Lillian supposed, wasn't totally wrong given that he thought Lillian was Celaena. It wasn't totally right, either: Lillian cared what happened to Eyllwe - it was Nehemia's country, it was her family's country, it was a country of people - but the country she hated the king most for ruining was Adarlan. It had never been perfect, but it was hers.

"What are you going to do to fix it?" she found herself asking anyway.

He grimaced. "I was hoping you wouldn't ask. I have to figure that out with Nehemia, probably. Hopefully she won't demand the entire treasury for reparations."

"Most of the treasury is taken from Eyllwe."

"I am unfortunately aware," Dorian said. "The people I can protect right now though are my stepmother and little sister and the rest of you and Nehemia-"

"Kaltain," Lillian said.

"Kaltain hates me."

"So?"

"For you, I will keep an eye on Kaltain," Dorian promised, sighing. "My father is going to be in a foul mood, so you should warn her to keep her head down. And yes, talk to Nehemia, but later please? Georgina is more likely to run into him before the rest of us."

"Why is your father going to be upset?" Lillian asked. "He's the one who ordered it."

Dorian sighed again. "Can I answer this later?"

"No."

"He didn't order it," Dorian said. "He wouldn't, because it's stupid on a grand scale. If you want to intimidate people into submission, you leave a little bit of hope, a little bit of normalcy. Mass killings mean there's nothing left to lose. There's going to be more trouble in Eyllwe than in Terrasen now, and he can't afford that."

"He doesn't rule Eyllwe," Lillian said.

Dorian looked at her with an air of great disappointment, as if he had expected better of her, which, well. Just because the king had left Eyllwe a figurehead didn't mean he didn't rule.

"Can you please go warn Georgina and get me Philippa?" he asked. "She'll want to know what you know before she starts getting me more information."

Are you telling me Philippa is also your spymaster? Lillian almost asked, but thought better of it and just headed for the door.

Philippa had assured Lillian she would go to Dorian as soon as she was dressed. Lillian, now at the nearest exit to the Queen's suite, listened carefully to see if anyone was outside. She didn't hear anything, so she cracked the door and peered out.

She could see a shoulder of black livery down the hall in the direction of the queen's rooms, but nothing more. Satisfied, she slipped out and down the hall in the other direction and went directly through the window. When she first got here she would have fallen, but now she just balanced on the edge of the sill for a moment, listening, before leaping to grab one of the supports for the balcony above her and shimmying her way to the edge. Since the balcony in question was off the king's rooms she had worried when Celaena used it the first time, but while there were guards in the halls the king liked to keep his rooms free of them. Lillian thought Dorian was smarter for keeping her and Chaol close, but then, she doubted the king was in a relationship with the captain of his own guard, and he kept his (former) mistress in a room in the servants' quarters, because he was a cheapskate on top of being a tyrant.

Those thoughts were what occupied her as she swung up to the human-carved railing to come face-to-face with Roland Havilliard, the king of Adarlan.