1. Kiera

Chapter 1

Kiera

The worst part about being a spy was the waiting.

Even though this was my first official mission, I already disliked the hours I’d spent crouched in a hot, fetid alley in the Noble Quarter, body immobile, eyes restless.

To pass the time, I played a silent game, guessing the intention of each person who walked by me.

The group of young noblemen was easy. They had switched their glittering jewels and silk clothes for rough cotton. But their well-groomed appearances, careless laughter, and fat purses marked them for what they were. No doubt they were headed for a bit of fun in the Docks Quarter. Eager to gamble on a game of Death and Four and drink all night with the sailors.

It was Mynastra’s Tide, after all. The goddess would love the carousing.

A few servants hurried past, darting in and out of the mansions that lined the winding cobblestone streets. They were most likely preparing their lords and ladies for a more refined night of celebration. The old meeting hall was hosting a soiree, and The Silk Dancer had announced a performance worthy of the goddess herself.

But still, I didn’t see the three people I watched for.

I rolled my neck to ease the stiffness. Gods damn this heat. Even the night air was stifling.

Mother used to laugh and say that our royal city of Aquinon didn’t have seasons, only moods. Balmy, sunny skies one day and raging thunder and rain from black clouds the next, thanks to the temperamental sea that pounded our cliffs.

I glanced up at the starry sky smudged here and there with dark clouds. I had no bones to offer, but I prayed Mynastra kept her rain for the night. I couldn’t afford to leave a wet trail.

“No one can see you,” Renwell had said. “No one can ever know that you were there.”

A burst of laughter across the busy street snagged my attention. At last, Lord Garyth and his wife stepped out of the mansion I’d been watching for hours—days, really. The lady laughed again as her husband twirled her once by the hand so that her simple white dress floated around her like dove wings.

A twinge of jealousy surprised me.

Was it their easy laughter? Or the love in their expressions as they gazed at each other?

Gods only knew. I’d experienced precious little of either since my mother’s death. My whole world changed that night. The night I gave up my life as a princess for the life of a spy.

I blinked. Wait a moment. Where was their little girl? Isabel. She usually dogged her parents’ steps every time they left their mansion.

I waited, my fingers dancing along the hilts of my throwing knives. But no one else followed the High Councilor and his wife as they walked up the street and out of sight.

Gods damn it, they must have left her behind. Unless she had left earlier. Or was with friends or family.

I had been watching the house since the sun had fallen, but maybe I missed something.

Or she was still in the house, a witness I couldn’t risk.

But I wouldn’t get another opportunity like this. The High Councilor’s house, along with most of the other dwellings on these streets, was rarely empty apart from a divine holiday. I would have to wait months for another chance.

It had to be now.

I pulled the brim of my hood down and ensured my black neckcloth masked all but my eyes. My soft leather boots didn’t make a sound as I darted across the street, having a care to keep to the darkness between torches.

I slipped around the back of the house and opened the servant’s door without a sound. I’d tested it once already, pleased that the hinges were well oiled.

The kitchen stood empty of noise and light as I’d hoped. I eased my way across the smooth tiles, using the toes of my boots to feel around a large table and some chairs.

Dimmed lamps fixed to golden wall sconces lit a long, carpeted hallway, which probably led to all sorts of gathering rooms. But the room I needed was on the topmost floor.

I tiptoed up a wooden staircase that wound past the sleeping quarters up to the third floor. Other than a few creaks under my tentative boots, the house remained silent. A smile pulled at my stiff lips. Mynastra’s luck was with me so far.

I hurried to the only door on the eastern wall and reached for my lock-picking set. Then I hesitated, staring at the shiny gold knob.

“Always check,” Renwell liked to remind me in our training sessions. “Why lose essential moments over someone’s carelessness?”

I clenched my gloved fingers over the knob and twisted it easily. I frowned and slipped inside, silently closing the door behind me.

Soft light from the street filtered through the large window. Shelves of books lined the study walls, and a heavy desk took up half the room. The same desk I’d watched the High Councilor hunch over every night from a rooftop perch I’d found across the street.

A small table by the still-warm fireplace held a magnificent set of Death and Four tiles. The weak light made the gold inlay shimmer in a way that made my fingers itch to snatch them up.

But I couldn’t stray from my purpose.

“Garyth is hiding something,” Renwell had told me. “Search his correspondence, his ledgers, any document that seems odd. Find proof.”

But the High Councilor’s desk was clear of everything but an inkpot, a quill, and a stack of blank writing paper. My gaze raced over the spines of the books on his shelves, and I pulled out random ones, looking for a secret compartment. Nothing.

A door closed somewhere in the house, and I froze, a bead of sweat slipping down my spine.

The girl—Isabel—was probably still here somewhere. Perhaps with a maid.

Too many people. Too little time. Too dangerous. But I couldn’t fail the first real mission Renwell had given me after two years of training.

Garyth must be hiding something. As the High Enforcer, Renwell was rarely wrong when it came to matters of intelligence. He’d protected my father’s reign for decades. And one day, I would do the same for my brother.

If I could prove myself.

I strode to the window and checked its seams. My heart leapt when I discovered I could easily pop it open. A narrow ledge ran under the window and around the house.

An escape, if I needed it.

I took another turn around the study, fiddling with the table, the fireplace, even the large violet rug.

The blood in my veins pulsed hard and hot. Where in the deep, dark, wandering hell would a High Councilor hide sensitive documents?

My focus narrowed on the heavy wooden desk, the pride and joy of the room from the way the precious Twaryn wood shone, every delicate carving free of dust. It had no drawers, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t hide anything.

I carefully shifted Garyth’s leather armchair away and knelt in front of the desk. Renwell had told me once that desks and tables with secret compartments were very popular in years past. He’d even shown me how to work the one in my father’s study—without my father’s knowledge, of course.

Dancing my fingers along the ridges and seams of the wood panels, I searched for a keyhole and found none. But—there. My forefinger snagged on an uneven piece of wood under the top of the desk. I pressed it and a panel near the foot of the desk popped open.

I grinned in triumph.

A space barely the span of my hand held a stack of papers. I gently tugged them out and held them closer to the window to read.

My heart sank. Gibberish. Pages and pages of strange symbols, letters, and numbers. A code. But why? What was he hiding?

And more importantly, was it dangerous?

My mother’s deathly pale face and bloodied chest shimmered in my mind.

The papers shook in my hands, but I kept flipping through them until I reached the last one. In the top right corner of the yellowed page, someone had inked a symbol.

“No,” I breathed.

But there was no mistaking the joined hands beneath Rellmira’s half sun. The symbol of the People’s Council.

Something creaked in the hallway. I ducked behind the desk. I hadn’t locked the door behind me in case that was unusual for Garyth. Which made him a forgetful fool... or a trusting one. But a fool nonetheless, with treasonous documents in his possession.

I held my breath. One heartbeat. Two. Three. I counted to ten and slowly exhaled.

Time to go.

I couldn’t bring the papers with me for fear of tipping off Garyth, and I didn’t have time to copy them. But the symbol coupled with the strange code was damning enough. I slid the papers back into the hole and closed it.

I rose to my feet.

“What are you doing in my father’s study?”

I instinctively reached for one of my knives before realizing who spoke. A young girl in a frilly white nightdress hovered by the open door.

Curses bellowed through my mind. The one time well-oiled hinges worked against me. Renwell would be furious.

Isabel squinted at me, her soft red curls framing her pink, freckled cheeks. Maybe seven or eight years old. Innocent, so innocent. She probably had no idea what her father was involved in.

But she’d seen me. Granted, I was little more than a faceless shadow. But?—

No one can see you. No one can ever know you were there.

Renwell didn’t want Garyth to know we were investigating him, and from the suspicious glint in Isabel’s eyes, she might tell her father of the mysterious intruder in his study.

I released the hilt of my knife, giving her a debonair bow. “A merry Mynastra’s Tide to you, my lady,” I said, my voice hoarse from hours of silence.

If I couldn’t fight my way out, I’d lie my way out.

She frowned. “Who are you? And why aren’t you at the festival? Mother said I couldn’t go because I’m sick.”

I thought fast. “I’m a messenger and I desperately needed to deliver my message to your father, or I’ll be in trouble.”

“I get in trouble too. Mostly when I get my dress dirty, or I bring home a new pet.” She smiled and leaned forward. “Do you like lizards?”

I had the insane desire to laugh, even as my mind warned me that the child’s servant would be nearby and hear us talking any moment.

“I love them,” I said. “Especially the little green ones with sticky toes.”

Her blue eyes widened. “Yes! Me too!”

“Isabel! Child, where have you gotten to now?” a woman’s voice called out.

Isabel and I stiffened.

“Oh, gods, I’m supposed to be in bed,” she muttered.

“I won’t tell if you don’t tell anyone I was here,” I whispered quickly, desperately. “I would be forever in your debt, Lady Isabel.”

She grinned. “Deal. But you’d better hurry.”

I delivered another bow and raced for the window as she closed the door. Popping open the window, I swung over the ledge. The narrow piece of wood bit into my fingers. The skies also chose that moment to release their rain. I gritted my teeth as fear threatened to overwhelm me.

My body dangled high above the flickering streetlamps. A strange sight if any passersby looked up. For a moment, I imagined my fingers slipping on the wet wood and my body falling.

My stomach heaved, and I shook the thought from my head. Fear could kill me faster than a fall.

I slid my fingers along the ledge, working my way around the house. The rain pattered on my hood and dripped down my chest.

Just as I reached the corner, I heard the study door open. With a smothered grunt, I swung my body to the slanting roof below. I landed on all fours with a quiet thump, out of sight of the street. I flattened myself to the slick tiles as the window swung shut with a mumbled oath.

Holy Four, that was close. Even now, I had to trust that Isabel would keep our secret. There were much worse things than an angry nursemaid.

I crawled over to the mansion’s chimney ladder and scurried down. Now that I was off the roof, the rain was a blessing. It cooled my sweaty skin as people dashed for cover with their chins dipped down and curtained carriages splashed by—none the wiser to my escapade.

I kept my eyes on my boots and the puddles forming between cobblestones as I hurried to the Royal Gate. I flashed Renwell’s token at the guards, and they yanked open the gate without question.

Gritting my teeth, I stared at the vacant stone bridge spanning the roaring waterfall that split the palace from the rest of the city. This was the reason I hated heights.

Exactly ten years ago, back when Father still held public court and allowed us out of the palace, we stood here for the Bone Ceremony—the offering of fish bones to the water. A woman had leaned too far over, slipping on the stone, and fell to her death. Not the usual offering Mynastra expected, but she took it all the same, carrying the woman’s body out to sea.

I shuddered and put more thought into my footsteps than I had all night.

The thundering waterfall echoed in my chest. But I ignored it. I also ignored the gods-built palace. I knew its sky-high columns and pink marble turrets too well.

It was a tomb and a prison. But it held the only people left in the world whom I loved.

I skirted around the dozens of long steps leading to the main doors and the ever-watchful palace guards to use a servant’s entrance on the side. Because that was my role now—a servant to the crown. I didn’t pause through the labyrinth of halls and secret passageways that led to my small room, situated next to Renwell’s room and his study.

I checked his study and found it locked, which meant he wasn’t there.

Just as well. My clothes, weighed down with weapons and rain, were choking me.

Dry clothes, some hot tea, and a biscuit would be perfect. The cook still let me nab biscuits from the larder despite my decline in rank.

I reached for my key but stopped when I found my door hanging ajar. I silently unsheathed my dagger and pushed the door open, taking a tentative step inside.

Only for the sharp, cold edge of a blade to press against my throat.