22. Kiera

Chapter 22

Kiera

The knives were slippery in my hands.

Blood and sweat dripped down my arms. How many times had he nicked me?

“Again,” Renwell’s voice floated to me through a haze of pain, exhaustion, and fear.

I heaved myself to my feet, trying to hide my wince. The silky blindfold covered half my face, but he would still see me weakening.

I shifted into a ready stance. His voice echoed around me as if he paced the large training room.

“You’re still hesitating,” he said. “Do you think I can’t stop your knife even if you manage to throw true?”

I rotated on the spot, following his voice. I didn’t speak because we both knew the answer. We both knew I was afraid.

“Pitiful.” His voice edged closer. “Your mother’s killer didn’t hesitate. He wanted to kill her.”

My heartbeat throbbed in my throat. He’s trying to get in your head. It’s part of the training. Duress. Focus. Calm.

“He trapped her first.” Renwell’s voice softened. Not with sympathy, but with a cold malice. “Only the gods know what he did to her in that room, all alone.”

My fingers shook. I gripped my knives tighter. “Stop,” I whispered. Stop, stop! My mind screamed at the images he painted there.

“When he knew he was surrounded, he didn’t hesitate.” Renwell’s voice drifted in and out. “He took her dagger, her only protection against a man like him.”

“S-stop!” I stumbled, weaving like a drunkard trying to track his voice.

“He drove that dagger straight into her heart. He watched the light leave her eyes. Made certain she took her last breath. He wanted to be sure we couldn’t save her. He?—”

“ Shut up! ” I screamed, slashing at his voice.

“Make me,” Renwell growled in my ear.

A ribbon of fire sliced through my back, and I howled. I whipped around and threw my knife with every ounce of strength I possessed.

A dull, wet thunk . The muffled sound of a body hitting the floor.

Silence.

My heart outpaced my breathing in a wild race. With my free hand, I ripped off the blindfold. The purple silk fluttered to the ground.

“No,” I whispered. “Gods, no. Please.”

My mother—my beautiful, kind, loving mother—lay in a tangled heap on the floor. Blood soaked her pale skin and her long golden hair. The knife in her heart—it wasn’t hers.

It was mine. One that Aiden had given me.

A sob tore from my throat. I dropped to my knees and crawled to her. “Mother... Mother, what did I do? I didn’t...”

Her eyes were closed. Her chest still.

She was gone. She’d left me. No, she’d been taken from me. I didn’t do it. I didn’t do it.

Her eyes flew open. “Kiera.”

I gasped and woke up.

My heart pounded so loud in my ears I thought the walls were crumbling around me. Sweat beaded over my cold, clammy skin. My sore throat ached with each rasping breath.

Slowly, the nightmare bled away, leaving the four walls of my room and Ruru’s soft snores nearby.

My shoulders crumpled as I hugged my knees. Part memory, part monstrosity. I’d had nightmares like that before. But this one felt so real, so true.

Perhaps because I was failing my mission. I still didn’t know why Aiden needed the gold. I hadn’t found a way to stay after the heist. The final day was upon me, and I had already failed.

I felt as though there were a thousand hooks digging into my skin, tugging me in a thousand directions. What to do, where to go, who to trust? Any choice would be painful. But I had to choose.

Aiden hadn’t brought up my supposed imminent departure after the heist. Perhaps he didn’t want to think about it either. He’d been hanging around more often the last few days. Offering to eat breakfast with me, walk me to The Silk Dancer . Watching me with Ruru.

What if all I had to do was ask?

Unless this was his way of spending time with me before he said goodbye.

If he cares enough to kill for you, then he’ll care enough to keep you.

But did he care? If he did, it felt wrong to use him that way. Especially when I might share some of those feelings. But perhaps that was what would make it so believable. The best lies were always knotted with strands of truth.

I slipped the silk scarf from my pocket. How uncanny that it played a role in my nightmare. I wound the scarf around my neck to hide the finger-shaped bruises Renwell had left on my skin.

The bruises would likely cause an uproar among the men I shared rooms with, and I didn’t want to answer questions. The idea that there would even be an uproar sent a strange warmth through my blood.

I rose and washed my face quietly. After tugging on my boots, I left the room. Tiptoeing past a snoring Maz and a turned-away Aiden, I snagged an apple from the bowl and hurried into the pink dawn.

I arrived at The Silk Dancer to an unusual level of chaos as the seven other dancers and Melaena fluttered to and fro. The girls swept armfuls of makeup from the tables into bags while others took quick baths in the corner. A few were already curling their hair and perfuming their skin. Melaena oversaw a few servants packing our delicate costumes, barking orders and redoing work.

I hurried up to her, breathless. “How can I help?”

She thrust a lacquered box into my arms. “Pack only the gold jewelry. Enough for all of us. Did you bathe?” she asked with a quirked eyebrow. She didn’t know how I could stand to live with three men and one bathroom for the whole building.

I grinned. “Last night, before I left here, like you told me to.”

She brightened. “Ah! Yes, because I told you the bath would be busy this morning. See what happens when I’m right?”

“You’re always right!” I called over my shoulder as I loaded the box with shimmering gold earrings, necklaces, and bracelets.

Several hours later, several gilded, curtained carriages arrived to carry us through the Noble Quarter to Asher’s mansion. I hated having to leave my knives behind, but I was a dancer today in a simple silk dress. I’d added a black silk mask that fluttered over most of my face. None of the other dancers questioned me.

And neither did any of the guards when we arrived at Asher’s mansion.

We stepped out of the carriages to meet two guards who opened Asher’s gates and ushered us inside. A high, spiked wall surrounded the meticulously crafted lawns that rolled out like a green, bushy rug from the street to the mansion. At least six more guards patrolled the grounds.

Asher’s mansion sat at the north end of the Noble Quarter, closest to the city wall and the river. Its domed roof and small spires were reminiscent of the Temple on a much smaller scale. Even so, three of the other townhouses lining the street could’ve fit inside this little palace.

The other girls squealed and pointed at the pearlescent peacocks and the gold lotus-shaped fountain. But I kept my focus on the guards as I hovered in the middle of the group.

More gasps peppered the air when the guards opened the double doors and whisked us inside Asher’s enormous atrium. Light flooded the white marble floors from the glass ceiling. A wide, sweeping staircase poured from two hallways high out of sight.

Workers in stiff, violet uniforms pattered across the marble, carrying embroidered cloths, silk ribbons, and vases of fresh flowers. An old man, who was perched on a ladder with wheels, scrubbed every gold-and-glass brazier to a sparkle.

A short woman with a battle-weary look snapped her fingers at us. “This way, and don’t touch anything.”

We herded along until she led us to a large suite of rooms that had its own bathroom, several large mirrors, and an assortment of gilded lounge furniture.

“Keep the noise down,” she ordered us, then shut the door with a snap behind her.

Immediately, the girls broke into a stream of chatter.

I simply breathed a sigh of relief. Until Jayde and Tullia approached me with pots of gold paint, a few horsehair paintbrushes, and gold chains.

“This will take a while,” Tullia sang, waggling her brush at me. She tossed her long red hair over her shoulder. “But first, let’s do your hair.”

An hour later, they had brushed my hair to a gloss and braided in gold chains dripping with gold shards that flickered when I moved. I praised their handiwork even as my scalp winced from the weight.

“Clothes, off,” Jayde commanded, snapping her fingers in an impressive imitation of Melaena. The statuesque blonde was formidable but well-meaning. I could see why Maz fell for her and Tullia’s differing charms.

Keeping my eyes averted from theirs, I undressed behind a screen, keeping my breast band and underwear on. I relinquished my scarf to the pile. My hair covered the scars at my back—for now—but Jayde’s blue eyes immediately fastened on my neck.

She scowled. “Wait here.”

Tullia remained uncharacteristically quiet, her eyes darting to my neck once, while she set up her paints.

Jayde returned with Melaena. Jayde looked incensed, but Melaena was calm.

“Is there something you would like to tell me, Kiera?” she asked.

“It wasn’t Ai—any of the men I live with.”

Jayde’s eyebrows lifted, and Tullia trembled next to me, no doubt bursting with questions.

Melaena blinked in confusion. “The thought never crossed my mind. I just want to know if you’re safe. If there’s anything I can do.”

My skin heated with all the attention. “I’m fine. Just a mishap with a guard.” I hesitated. “Don’t tell him.” Aiden.

Melaena studied me for a moment, then nodded. “We’ll cover it with paint. No one will know.” Then she left.

Jayde crammed her brush into a pot and started stroking glittering gold paint down my arm. “I hope you gutted him for it.”

“The guard?”

“Or turned him in,” Tullia added.

Jayde scoffed. “If he’s a city guard, they won’t punish him. Best do it yourself.”

I glanced at her. Was she one of the women who had come from an awful situation, as Melaena said? It was an unspoken rule not to ask a person’s history at The Silk Dancer . But everyone wondered all the same.

Tullia giggled nervously. “Oh, Jayde, don’t be so grim. Let’s just focus on the dance, shall we? I mean, look where we are!” She threw her arms wide, flinging a drop of paint on the pristine white wall. “Oops.”

Jayde rolled her eyes and wiped it off. “Focus, Tullia. We have five more girls after this without you painting the walls.”

The girls bickered and gossiped in turn as they slathered me. I joined in where I could, but my nerves were slowly tightening to the point of choking me.

What if someone recognized me? What if Asher caught me trying to steal from him? What if I forgot the dance routine and shamed the entire group?

“Try not to sweat, dear,” Tullia said, fanning my skin. “Your paint will run.”

I took a sip of water from the glass Melaena had brought me and tried to remain calm. When Tullia and Jayde lifted my hair to paint my back, they paused again. I imagined the two of them sharing a look behind my head, wondering what sort of life I’d led. But neither of them said a word and continued painting.

Soon, they proclaimed me finished and ordered me not to sit or smudge myself until rehearsal.

I carefully shimmied into my costume—a twisted silk breast band with a long, flowing silk skirt, through which my gold legs were clearly visible. A few bits of jewelry brightened my ears, neck, and wrists.

I meandered around the room, helping where I could, until one by one, the rest of the dancers and Melaena looked like they’d been dipped in liquid gold as well.

The snippy woman from before poked her head into the room to tell us we had an hour to rehearse. Everyone secured their masks and crowded out the door.

Last to leave, I donned my stiff gold mask, which covered me from nose to forehead and boasted flowers and flames spreading from the edges. Then I finally looked into one of the mirrors.

A laugh slipped from me. I looked like the very gold I was here to steal.

I was unrecognizable. A creature fit for the god Arduen himself. It was one of his stories we would reenact tonight.

I hurried to join the others, my eyes darting over every face I passed by. Were Aiden and Maz here yet? Would Aiden watch me dance?

My skin prickled under my thick paint. It didn’t matter who watched me tonight. As long as they believed every lie from my lips and every swish of my hips, they would never catch me.

“Kiera.”

I peered into the shadowy hallway as Melaena edged her way between painted dancers, twittering about in their silks and masks. We waited outside a pair of engraved doors for our cue. Conversation and laughter rippled from the other side, at distinct odds with our tense silence and my pounding heart. The ballroom must have filled quickly after our short rehearsal.

Melaena finally reached me and pulled something from her hair. “Take this,” she whispered, handing me a knife shaped like a hairpin. “I have a feeling you’ll need it more than me tonight. May Mynastra’s luck be with you.”

Words of gratitude clustered in my throat, but none escaped. I gave her a tremulous smile and stabbed the knife into my gilded hair.

She smiled back. “Remember what I said before, Kiera. Find the joy, and you’ll find the power you seek.”

I tucked her words away in my mind as a light scratching sounded on the door.

“That’s our warning,” Melaena hissed. “Positions.”

Everyone slipped into line like we’d practiced dozens of times.

A loud voice boomed out an introduction, then the doors were swept open. The massive ballroom had been darkened. A few servants holding candelabras lit our path through a crowd of craning necks.

Out of sight, a low drum beat started. Like a heartbeat.

We lifted our arms, silks tied to gold bracelets, and floated into the room. Our bare feet tapped, and our bodies swayed forward with each beat.

The drum picked up tempo as we approached the center stage—a slightly raised platform with a large bronze brazier in the center. I caught a glimpse of a man lounging in an alcove draped with silks. Asher.

Focus.

We circled the brazier, undulating and spinning like restless flames.

I deftly freed my fiery silks from my wrists and whirled them around me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, Melaena’s voice counted the beats of the routine. But my body simply danced.

My muscles were fluid and warm from our rehearsal earlier. The idea that no one knew who I was left me utterly free . I wasn’t Emilia. I wasn’t Kiera. I wasn’t a princess or a spy or a guard.

I was one of Arduen’s flames begging to be unleashed.

We kicked our pointed feet high, twirling our skirts like golden clouds. Faster and faster, the drums pounding until?—

They cut off, and Melaena flicked her hand over the brazier. Two tiny fireseeds fell on the slumbering embers. The flames roared to life. Gasps and applause rumbled through the room, but we weren’t done.

Now that we had “awakened” Arduen—the god of fire, love, and the arts—we danced through an old story. The drums picked up again, joined by a flute and a fiddle.

Melaena played Arduen wearing a gold crown dripping with long strings of beads while I played his human lover. I mimed pleading with her for a fire of my own. She graced me with a beautiful flower—its petals colored to look like the real glowing fireflowers. I plucked the seed at its center and tossed it into the flames, which rose higher.

We twirled, trailing our silks like happy flames, as I held the flower aloft, silently praising Arduen for his gift.

Light blazed back into the room as servants uncovered the torches along the walls and lowered a magnificent candle chandelier through a hatch in the wooden ceiling. Shards of crystallized glass reflected rainbows of light over the similarly glittering crowd.

Cheers and another round of applause thundered through the air.

I smiled at the crowd. My heart felt raw with happiness after the thrill of performing. No wonder Melaena called this powerful. I felt like I could accomplish anything.

We gathered four each to Melaena’s side and bowed to Asher, who was on his feet, clapping hardest of all.

“Excellent!” he called. “Marvelous!” He was wearing a headdress similar to Melaena’s on his dark blond curls. His linen shirt and white pants were embellished with gold thread. Layers of gold chains rippled from his neck to his chest. A gold satin cloak completed his godly ensemble. “Come, come!” He waved us over.

We strolled hand in hand through the crowd until we reached his alcove. A few men and women were perched atop large pillows scattered around the floor. They smiled at us with stained lips and soft eyes. Small tables held gold plates of food and drink that made my stomach rumble.

Thankfully, Asher didn’t seem to hear it as he beamed at us. “Splendid performance, truly. When I first came to Melaena with my ideas, even I couldn’t have imagined such beauty.”

We smiled and curtsied, murmuring our pleasure.

Asher’s brown eyes fixed on me. “I believe we originally planned for seven dancers besides Melaena. You were quite the stunning addition, my dear.”

My heart stopped as my earlier confidence vanished. How could he possibly know I was the new one with our costumes, masks, and makeup?

I bowed my head to hide my panic. “You honor me, High Councilor.”

He stretched out two fingers and lifted my chin. His gaze was warm, if not a little playful. The faint lines in his skin hinted at a life of smiling. “When someone calls me that, I still look for my father. Please, call me Asher. I would like to get to know you better.”

I blinked. The rumors of his womanizing and expensive tastes were clearly not far off. But he also wasn’t quite the pompous fool I remembered. Apart from the one time he’d shown us his vault, I’d never interacted with him. He’d become the High Treasurer three years ago, taking over from his father.

And now I would have to steal from him.

A smile grew on Asher’s clean-shaven face. “Why don’t we start with your name?”

A few titters echoed around the alcove, and my cheeks warmed.

“K-Katerina,” I stuttered, cursing myself for not being prepared.

Another name. Another disguise. Another lie.

None of the dancers around me so much as frowned over my made-up name. Perhaps they also used other names.

“Katerina,” Asher said, pressing a smooth kiss over my fingertips. A few flecks of my paint clung to his lips.

I smiled. “Asher, forgive me, but you have some gold just here,” I said, tapping my own lips.

“Do I?” He released me to find more gold streaked over his fingers. He chuckled and swiped it over his jaw. “Luckily, it’s my favorite color. Perhaps I could take over for Melaena and play Arduen for my lovely dancers,” he said.

We all laughed and agreed. He was a bit ridiculous, but not unkind, at least.

He insisted we sit with him, ushering us to different cushions. He led me by the lightest touch to the cushion next to his. “Wouldn’t want to mar any more of that beautiful gold,” he said with a wink.

Melaena sat behind me with an encouraging smile. I tried to return it, but my nerves were back.

It was perfect. He sat so close to me. Close enough that I could see a thin gold chain among the ropes of other gold necklaces. The key had to be dangling from that one under his shirt. Tantalizingly out of sight.

Act the sweet, playful admirer, and you could steal his very soul if you wished.

But I didn’t need to steal his soul—just the key from around his neck.