12. Kiera

Chapter 12

Kiera

The mead put me in a fitful sleep. The kind where my body desperately needed rest, but my mind couldn’t stop racing with fear and anger.

I dreamt of ever-shifting white labyrinths. Every time I thought I knew where I was going, I reached a dead end—one that held the bloodied body of a woman. The shadows that pressed in on me were sharp. They stabbed at my heels, making me run faster and faster until I fell down a dark hole.

And woke up, gasping and sweating.

It took me a moment to remember where I was as I stared at the domed ceiling. Aiden’s place. The windowless room had little light of its own, but the sunlight that pierced the cracks of the door told me it was day.

I rubbed my hands over my face.

Maz showed me the water basin and soap last night, so I was at least able to scrub most of my skin clean. My hair I simply tied in a knot. It would have to keep until I could have a proper bath.

He’d also handed me more of Aiden’s salve for my ribs and jaw. And praise be Viridana, my beating from Renwell was healing much more rapidly than any other injuries I’d ever had.

Good enough to dance, certainly.

I rose and poured fresh water into the chipped basin. After splashing my face and pulling on my boots, I opened the door.

Maz sat at the table, eating an apple with his sleeves rolled up over his massive, tattooed arms. But Aiden was gone.

Spotting me, Maz smiled and waved to a chair. “Take a seat, lovely, and have some breakfast. Courtesy of Sophie.”

I slid into the chair and snatched up a thick slice of brown bread. “Will I ever get to meet this amazing woman?” I devoured the bread in two bites, my stomach already crying for more.

Maz chuckled. “Undoubtedly. Hardly a soul around that doesn’t know Sophie. But be warned, she’s as suspicious and protective as a mother bear.”

I barely remembered to chew the three hunks of pale yellow cheese I grabbed. So creamy, so nutty. Gods, food was the best.

“I’ve never seen a bear,” I mumbled through a full mouth.

Maz’s ice-blue eyes brightened. “Of course, having lived in a gods-forsaken palace all your life. But you should see Dagriel one day. The snow-tipped mountains, the rapid rivers full of fish, the pine trees that smell sweet in the rain and spicy in the sun...” He trailed off with a dreamy look on his face, juice from his apple dribbling down his wrist.

I swallowed. “Will you get to go back one day?”

He refocused on me, the light in his eyes dimming. “Gods willing. But I carry home with me wherever I go,” he added, gesturing to his tattoos.

“Like the mountain on your back?”

His voice softened. “Yes. The mountain is a symbol of our people, across all clans. Of our strength, of our endurance. The mountains have been our home since the first dawn and will be until every age has passed.”

Before I could ask him more, the Temple bells rang. He took a final bite from his apple and tossed the core out the window. “Best hurry along. Can’t be late for your first rehearsal.”

I listened to the bells ring the eleventh hour while cramming bits of dried salted pork in my mouth. I washed it down with a mug of water from a green bottle, which I sniffed first to be sure it wasn’t mead again.

“Where’s Aiden?” I asked as Maz stood up and unfurled his shirt sleeves to cover his tattoos.

“Busy.” Maz flashed me a smile, as if to make up for the curt answer. “But I assure you, I’m an excellent guide.”

“You mean guard.”

He pursed his lips. “I don’t see it that way.”

“Aiden does,” I muttered, brushing crumbs from my mouth and pants as I stood up.

“Be patient with him, lovely. He has good reason not to trust so easily.”

“And you don’t?”

Maz stroked his bearded chin. “I suppose I would rather treat someone as a friend until they prove otherwise. Aiden tends to feel differently. He would rather not be surprised when someone betrays him. In my experience, the more times one is betrayed, the more one comes to expect betrayal.”

I frowned. The idea that I was more like Aiden in that regard was discomfiting. And that he was not wrong about me. But who else had betrayed Aiden? And what had happened to them?

The food soured in my stomach. Maybe I didn’t want to know.

The moment we stepped outside, I thanked the gods I’d left my cloak behind. The humidity immediately enveloped me in a sweaty hug. Mynastra’s storms hadn’t cooled the air but rather thickened it.

“Gods damn this Rellmiran heat,” Maz grumbled, his thin sleeves flapping in a sluggish breeze as we hurried down the steps and through the Old Quarter.

I’d known no other kind of weather, so I didn’t comment.

The twisting pathways looked and felt so different from my frantic journey last night. The weathered brown buildings warmed in the sun. Shutters and doors were thrown open to let in whatever breeze that stirred. Cooking fires flavored the air with meat and spice. Everywhere people bustled about their business—hanging colorful bits of laundry on the rooftops, carrying parcels, gossiping with their neighbors.

As if death didn’t hunt their streets at night.

Maz led me to the main road via a different route than last night. Or else I would’ve seen the crimson stain, like an ominous mark on a map.

I needed to talk to Renwell. Soon. We’d come up with a way for me to reach out to him should I escape the Den with Aiden. But I couldn’t leave my mark, let alone have a clandestine meeting, while my every move was watched.

I could only hope that Aiden would agree to letting me work for him. The more he loosened his grip, the easier it would be to slip away for a while.

Patience , Renwell would tell me. But why did everything in this job require so much patience ?

Here I was going to a dance rehearsal for a heist that would never happen instead of backtracking to find that warehouse to look through the crates or hunting down Aiden to see where he went and who he spoke to.

Patience. Play the part. Perhaps Melaena knows more of Aiden’s plans.

I darted after Maz’s tall figure as he plowed his way through the thick crowd toward the Noble Quarter gate. There, we had to wait long minutes in a line of people waiting to be allowed into the quarter. Most were turned away. Only nobles and those in clothing stitched with noble insignias were gestured through.

I held my breath as we approached the red-faced guard. His leather uniform creaked as he wiped sweat from his eyes. But I didn’t recognize him, and he barely looked at me, focusing on Maz.

“Name and business,” he grunted, his fist tightening around one of the long spears only the day guards were allowed to carry.

“Kiera, one of Melaena’s dancers at The Silk Dancer ,” Maz answered.

The guard finally glanced at me with a frown. “No, she’s not.”

“I’m new,” I said quickly. “And running late.”

When the guard continued to stare at me without answering, Maz straightened to his full height, towering over the guard. “Melaena said she would give Kiera’s name to the guards. Check the list and let us be on our way.”

The guard glowered, but he sauntered over to consult with another guard that held a ledger. After a minute of conferring, he nodded and waved me through.

Maz started to follow, but the guard blocked him with his spear. “Just her.”

Maz looked as though he were going to snap the guard’s spear in half, but I forced a smile and waved him off. “Go on. I’ll be fine. See you after.”

Maz hesitated for a moment, no doubt thinking Aiden might take issue with letting me loose. But he had little choice. He nodded, and I hurried onward.

The flow of traffic was much different on this side of the gate. Much less pushy and dirty. Sparkling fountains, pristine cobblestone streets, and strolling nobles in their silks and satins.

It felt like a lifetime ago that I’d been one of them, albeit in the lonely halls of the palace.

Melaena’s club sat closest to the wall on the west side of the street. The domed building was built with white stone that glittered in the sun. Wide, polished steps split around a bronze statue of a dancing girl mid-spin and draped in silks. Parts of her were worn glossy and smooth—probably from enamored fingertips. But her carved smile was still serene and untouched. A matching bronze plaque under her feet read The Silk Dancer.

Gathering my breath and my courage, I opened one of the heavy wooden doors and slipped inside.

The entrance was more like a lounge with guests sitting in overstuffed armchairs, sipping iced drinks and enjoying light refreshments. Melaena’s patrons were all nobles. Men and women who held quiet conversations in dim corners or played friendly games of Death and Four on marble tables.

It certainly wasn’t like the taverns I used to sneak into with beer-soaked tables, knife-throwing, and occasionally violent games of Death and Four.

Gods, I missed that.

I hurried past the daytime patrons, none of whom noted my passing. Down a crimson-wallpapered hall, I pushed open the double doors at the end, ignoring the “Closed for Rehearsal” sign on the handle.

At the far end of the cavernous room, Melaena was already on stage instructing her dancers. I strode past the staff cleaning the dozens of tables and couches, trying not to look as sweaty and uncouth as I felt.

That feeling only worsened when I noticed that all the dancers, including Melaena, wore a variety of silk dresses in a bouquet of colors. I hadn’t even thought about what to wear since I only had one set of clothes. Clothes that probably smelled like the street and Aiden’s salve.

One by one, the dancers’ eyes widened as I approached the stage. They began to whisper behind their hands. A few seemed curious, others looked outright scornful.

Melaena stopped talking and turned to smile at me. “Ah, and here she is! Ladies, as I was saying, this is Kiera. She’ll be joining us for Asher’s celebration.”

I tried to smile past my nerves that buzzed like flies in my ears.

Melaena waved to her dancers. “I’ll introduce you to everyone in a moment, Kiera. How about we find you something to wear that will be easier to dance in? Ladies, start your exercises.”

The dancers obediently snapped to formation and began to twist and bend, warming their muscles.

Melaena beckoned me. “Come, the dressing room is backstage.”

I climbed the stairs on the side of the stage and followed Melaena behind the gold-painted backdrop.

She nodded to it as we passed. “Usually, we have much more detailed scenes depicted because I like to incorporate a story into our shows. But since Asher’s celebration will be at his house, this will do for practice.”

“Does he have a stage as well?”

She laughed, the silvery chains threaded through her hair twinkling. “He probably wishes he had one as grand as this. But he does have a very large ballroom where we will dance in the middle before dispersing into the crowd.” She sobered. “I suppose that is when you will need to get close to him. Do you have much experience with men?”

My cheeks warmed as she guided me past a mess of ropes and pulleys. “Some, yes.”

“Excellent. That will make my job much easier.” She led me to the back wall and through the only door. “Here’s the dressing room.”

My eyes widened, taking in the numerous outfits hung on a dozen racks around the room.

“It also has a bathing and makeup area,” she added, pointing to a row of mirrors atop tables littered with paints, powders, and brushes. A tall screen mostly hid a large bathtub in the corner.

“Most of my dancers live in the rooms I keep through there.” Melaena nodded to a door at one end of the room. “The sitting rooms—like the one you first came through—are on the other side of that door.” She gestured to a door at the opposite end.

“I had no idea this place was so huge,” I admitted, running my fingers over an exquisite silk costume. Dyed violet with clusters of gold beaded flowers sewn around the waist and bodice, it was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. It was much more revealing than anything I’d worn as a princess, but that made it even more alluring.

Melaena’s smile softened. “This place was my mother’s pride and joy, and my father took diligent care of it when she died. Now it’s my turn to continue their legacy.”

I released the dress, rubbing my fingers on my pants as if the dress had dirtied me instead of the other way around. “So, you’ve lived in the Noble Quarter your whole life?” Had she known Julian? “How did you meet Aiden?”

Her blue eyes turned cautious. “Yes, I have. I met Aiden through a friend, and we quickly became friends as well.” She tilted her head to the side, studying me. “We’re not lovers, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“No!” The word burst out of me, and I tried to laugh it off. “No, I was just curious because this doesn’t seem like the sort of place he frequents.”

She gave me a knowing look, but smiled. “Indeed. He usually deems himself much too busy to enjoy something as simple as a dance.”

Busy doing what? And what “friend” had introduced them? But I didn’t want to push her too hard. I was supposed to be earning her trust as well.

“I’m sorry about your parents, though,” I said softly. “You must’ve cared for them a great deal to take such good care of their legacy.”

“Thank you, and yes, I miss them every day.” She hesitated. “Are your parents still alive?”

My heart froze for a beat. “I... I never knew my father. And my mother died a few years ago.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. May the gods find her soul. Was she in the palace with you?”

Suspicion crept in. “Why do you want to know? Did Aiden tell you to ask me these questions?”

Her black eyebrows arched in surprise. “Of course not. I was simply curious. I thought... perhaps...” She pressed her lips together.

My body tensed. Oh gods, did she recognize me somehow? Had she heard something about me? “Perhaps what?”

“I thought perhaps you might need a friend.” She sighed. “I know how Aiden can be. And after what you went through,”—she paused to grasp my hands in her own.—“I just wanted you to know you’re safe here. A few of my dancers came from terrible situations and found their peace and a family in my club. You’re not alone.”

A lump suddenly swelled in my throat at her words and unexpected kindness.

I wasn’t alone. Not physically. But in allies? Safety?

Yes. I was very much alone. Melaena would make an excellent ally and resource, but I couldn’t afford friends in this life. Even if the risk felt worth it at the moment.

I squeezed her fingers. “Thank you, Melaena. I hope I can repay your kindness and generosity one day.”

She squeezed back before letting go. “There is no debt in true kindness. Now, go try that dress on. It looks like the perfect size, and the colors will complement your eyes and skin tone.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, my fingers already reaching for the violet dress I’d grasped.

“Absolutely. Join the rest of us as soon as you’re ready.” She smiled at me over her shoulder before closing the door behind her.

I quickly stripped out of my dirty clothes and boots and kicked them into a corner. I pulled the dress over my head, and it floated down my body like a glittering purple cloud. Cinching the laces in the back tightened the gown around my frame like it was made for it.

I stepped in front of a floor-length mirror, swallowing a gasp. Gossamer sleeves swished down to my elbow. The dress fell in layers to my knees, barely opaque enough to cover my skin from my breasts to my thighs. It turned my body into an illusion, a mystery.

Excitement swirled low in my belly, and I grinned. This job had just gotten its first perk.

I eyed the doors at either end of the room. Would anyone notice me roaming the halls? I could find that sitting room again and try to discover the entrance to the tunnel. But it would have to wait until after rehearsal.

Deciding to leave the room barefoot as I’d seen the other dancers, I padded back to the stage.

Holy Four, don’t let me fall on my face.

Two hours later, I was certain Melaena regretted agreeing to let me dance with her. Sweat stained the lovely silk that clung to my body as I completed what felt like the thousandth spin.

Melaena watched me with her brow furrowed. “You’re still wobbling a bit. And your arms need to float about as if weightless. When you hold the dancing silks, they need to flow like water. Like this.” She demonstrated the turn, looking as graceful as a flower. “Again.”

“I had no idea dancing could be this painful,” I grunted, trying again.

“You’ll thank me for it later,” she sang. “Don’t forget to smile .” She flashed a pearlescent smile at me.

I bared my teeth at her as I spun again and again, my muscles burning. Years of training with Renwell had not prepared me for this. Fighting was about speed and power. Throwing knives needed focus and accuracy. Looking pretty was definitely not a factor.

Melaena had dismissed the other dancers an hour ago. They had picked up Melaena’s choreography in moments, their movements already beautiful. I had an excellent memory, but that didn’t equate to performance.

We’d spent the last hour going over the basics, as she called them. Leaps, twirls, sinuous arm movements, and hip flourishes.

I finally bent over with my hands on my knees, breathing hard. “How... how do you do it? You make it look so easy.”

Melaena gave me a playful smirk, executing a flawless leap just because she could. “Practice. I have no doubt you’ll fit in with the rest of the dancers by performance time.”

I groaned. “And if I don’t? Will Asher not look twice at me?”

“Oh, he will. Asher appreciates beauty because he finds security in the appearance of flawlessness. And what is more beautiful than joy?” Her smile turned serene as she twirled in a flourish of silks. “Find the joy, and he won’t be able to take his eyes off of you.”

I gave her a weak smile even as my heart fell. When was the last time I’d found that sort of joy?

The doors at the entrance opened, and a young boy in a crisp white shirt and pants scurried toward the stage.

“High Councilor Garyth would like to speak with you, my lady,” he said.

I stiffened, averting my face on the chance that the High Councilor would enter. Why would Garyth want to meet with Melaena?

The calmness on Melaena’s face rippled away under concern. “Tell him I’ll be with him in a moment, Elias.”

He bowed and hurried back the way he came.

“Excellent work for today, Kiera,” she said. “After you’ve changed, you can wait for your escort in the front lounge.”

I nodded, my thoughts racing too fast to form an answer. If she was meeting with Garyth in the front lounge, then that was the last place I wanted to be. Being a High Councilor for years, he had frequented the palace enough to remember what Princess Emilia looked like. I couldn’t have him wondering what I was doing here when, as the princess, I hadn’t stepped out of my rooms since my mother’s death.

But why was he here in the middle of the day? And why did Melaena look so worried?

I walked back to the dressing room and changed in a daze. The other dancers had long gone.

I hesitated at the door. I could wait here or... I could poke around that sitting room and find the entrance to the secret tunnel.

Swiping a few hairpins from a makeup table, I hurried to the door Melaena had pointed at earlier. It swung open soundlessly and let me into a familiar hall—the same one I’d walked with Aiden last night. Which meant the door opposite me led to the sitting room.

Glancing up and down the hall to make sure I was alone, I inserted the pins into the lock. The tumblers fell into place within moments. Ever the same, a smile curved my lips at the sound.

I doubted Melaena would be amused if she knew one of my little joys was lock-picking.

I opened the door and closed it quietly behind me. A soft snick told me the door had locked itself behind me. Good. That would slow someone down, even if they had the key.

The room was darker than before, with no windows and the candelabra unlit. Only a small oil lamp on a low table shed any light. But that would have to be enough. Snuffed candles left smoke and scent.

Leave no trace , Renwell’s voice instructed me from a dozen memories.

Willing my eyes to adjust to the shadows, I approached the wall that likely faced south, toward the Old Quarter and, therefore, the tunnel. I gently pushed tapestry after tapestry aside, skipping the ones that were blocked by couches or tables. My fingers painstakingly crept along the surface underneath. But I found nothing but smooth wall. No cracks. No indentations. No weaknesses.

I huffed in frustration, gazing around the room and trying to remember. Aiden and I fell when we’d exited the tunnel. My blindfold had slipped. What had I seen before he forced my attention back to him?

Feeling only a little ridiculous, I laid on my stomach on the plush carpet. Something fluttered in my chest at the memory of lying on his chest. I’d felt his heartbeat. His breathing. His firm grasp on my chin as I stared into those unnerving green eyes.

I shook myself. Focus . Someone might enter this room at any moment.

I turned my head at awkward angles until... there! I’d caught a glimmer of the strange, clawed foot of a sofa when I fell. Which meant...

I repositioned my body to put the clawed foot to my left, meaning my feet were now pointed at the tunnel.

My sore muscles protested as I flipped over and approached the west wall. I dug under the nearest tapestry. My fingertips brushed over a sliver of a crack. A grin split my face. Yes! This was it! My fingers traced the line as high as I could reach while my other hand searched for its twin.

My heart pounded with triumph. This was the door. But there was no handle, no latch.

Frowning, I swept my hands over the whole wall. Nothing.

Gods damn it! There must be a trigger of some kind out here, not as close as I’d hoped. Gods alone knew how long it would take me to find that .

Muffled voices filtered through the locked door. I grew still as stone. The jingle of keys.

Someone was coming in.