28. Kiera

Chapter 28

Kiera

A fountain of Asher’s blood splashed over my pants and boots as my scream echoed its last.

Renwell tossed his body aside, wiping his sunstone blade on Asher’s soiled clothes. There wasn’t a shred of emotion on his face. His dark eyes swept over me then returned to his king.

I felt empty. An emotionless husk. Not in the way of Renwell. But like my blood had spilled out with Asher’s. My skin cold as his would be. As if the Abyss had started to swallow my soul, piece by piece.

“Give the body to Korvin when we’re done.” My father’s words were like bees burrowing under my skin. “Tell him to send back the head, and he can keep the rest. A gift from his king.”

Bile surged up my throat, hot and acrid.

Gods damn your little weaknesses .

I clenched my teeth and swallowed it back.

Father smiled at me as if he knew exactly what I was trying to hide. “Tell me of this Aiden.”

You murdered his father. Stole his crown. Imprisoned him. He’s clever and good at Death and Four. He healed me and saved my life. He makes me laugh and feel desired. He tries to protect everyone and hates when he can’t.

He is a better man than you.

“He plans to kill you,” I said.

Renwell inhaled sharply, probably incensed I hadn’t told him first.

Father merely chuckled. “So, he’s a lunatic.”

I nearly laughed, remembering how I’d called Aiden something similar when I first met him. But Aiden was no madman or fool.

“How?” Renwell demanded.

Feeling a bit mad with carelessness myself, I shrugged. “He hasn’t told me yet. I was too busy convincing him to let me help.”

“ What? ” Father bellowed.

I sneered. “How else am I to learn his plans, Your Majesty ? I wouldn’t be alive if he thought me less than loyal.”

Only the gods knew if that was a lie or the truth.

Father glared at me in a way that should’ve made me cower, but I felt nothing.

“Watch your tone, servant ,” he said. “And find out where my gold is before it leaves the gods-damned city.”

“I thought you would be more concerned for your life,” I retorted.

“He would need an army to reach me here.” Father leaned forward. “Is that what he’s buying with my gold?”

I hesitated. It was barely plausible. Where would he find enough trained fighters?

“Impossible,” Renwell said, echoing my thoughts. He narrowed his eyes at me. “Perhaps he’s buying his way into the palace.”

Gods damn it, that made more sense.

“I’ll have every guard re-vetted,” Father said, slamming his fist on his armrest. “Anyone who doesn’t pass will be fed to Korvin while the others watch.”

Ah yes, your favorite punishment, Father.

He studied me beneath furrowed brows. “Or you simply tell me where this street scum is hiding, and I’ll send Renwell and his Wolves after him.”

The first spark of fear flickered back to life. “No.”

“ No? ”

I rushed on, “We don’t know how far this conspiracy goes or who else is involved. You could have countless traitors within your ranks. Your gold might find its way into any number of pockets in Aquinon or beyond.” I took a deep breath. “You need me on the inside to learn all his secrets.”

“I agree, Your Majesty,” Renwell added swiftly. “It will win you no favor to burn the city to the ground looking for your gold. Some might say it hints of incompetence.”

Father’s face twisted. “Are you one of those people, Renwell?”

“Never, Your Majesty. I’m thinking only of what’s best for the most powerful king in Lancora. You must retain power by showing no weakness.”

“I have no weaknesses,” Father snarled. His gaze pierced me. “Report to Renwell the moment you find any useful information. If you haven’t found every stolen coin and every traitor in this conspiracy in a month’s time, I will do so by fire and blade. And you, little nameless one, will suffer the fate of those who fail me.” He nodded to the crimson puddle that surrounded Asher’s body.

Scars under and over my skin seemed to pulse with warning.

I said nothing. No placating words. No groveling promises. I was caught between two men who wanted each other dead. There was only one way this game ended. Death always won, after all. But whose would it be?

I could make that choice with a few words. But not tonight.

“Leave.” His last command finally freed my muscles.

I walked out of the throne room, my spine straight, my chin lifted, ignoring the squeak of blood under my boots.

Instead of leaving the palace, I turned and walked down the hall toward my old room.

A fist closed around my shoulder and whirled me around.

Renwell. Of course.

Anger cracked through the shell that had shielded me in the throne room. I knocked his hand away.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” he growled, his eyes darting to the guards at the far end of the hall.

“Afraid you’ll be my executioner as well?” I snapped.

“It won’t come to that,” he said, as if the decision were up to him. “But if there’s something else you need to tell me, do it now. Let me help you.”

I stared at him. My mentor.

He could’ve warned me what I was walking into. He could’ve defended Asher, saying the game was rigged against him. But he did nothing but murder a decent man and let my father threaten me.

Why should I tell him my secrets when I knew he was keeping his own? He’d said nothing to my father about the heist until after it happened. He made no mention of Garyth or the People’s Council. Renwell played his own game, and I didn’t want to be part of it.

I shook my head and gestured to my stained clothing. “I have pants to change, and you have a body to mutilate—forgive me—to gift .”

I spun on my heel and charged away from him, something I’d never dared to do. He didn’t come after me.

I tried to open my door. Locked. And I’d given up the key.

Fucking Four! Why? Why can I do nothing right?

Yanking the hairpin out of my braid, I shoved it in the lock. It took me twice as long to pick it with my trembling fingers and blurred vision.

At last, it clicked open. No flush of success this time. Just a whirlwind of emotions that couldn’t be held back any longer. I threw myself inside my room and locked it behind me. I didn’t make it two steps before I collapsed on the dusty floor.

Sobs wracked my body. I tried to keep them quiet, but I was suffocating. I closed my eyes, gagging.

Gods, Asher pleaded with me like I was his only hope. If I’d known where the gold was, would Father have spared him?

I would never know.

Instead, guilt speared through my chest. I’d lied to Asher, stolen from him, and in his last moments, I’d taken away his final hope.

The bile exploded back up my throat, and I vomited in the corner of my room. Everything I’d eaten at Melaena’s party, every drop of water I’d consumed—my stomach wrung itself dry.

Tears streamed down my face, and I curled into a ball on the floor.

Moments passed. Heartbeats drummed onward. Emotions bled out.

I couldn’t stay here.

I rose and searched through my wardrobe to find another pair of pants. I traded them for my stained ones. No boots. I’d have to wash them somehow.

My head pounded, and my mouth tasted like sewage. But that would all have to wait. Gods, my room at The Silk Dancer felt miles away. Had the girls noticed I wasn’t in bed?

And what if they didn’t? I would simply lie, lie, lie my way back in.

My life was nothing but lies now.

I opened my door to find Everett on the other side, his fist raised.

“Kiera?” His pale face tightened with concern.

My face crumpled, and I threw my arms around him. He hesitated for a moment, then hugged me back.

“It’s all right,” he murmured. “It’s going to be all right. I know.”

I sniffled, looking up at him. “Know what?”

He nodded solemnly. “I watched from the peephole—you know, the one in the north wall? I didn’t hear much, but I saw what happened to Asher. May the gods find his soul.”

“It’s my fault,” I whispered.

The corners of his mouth turned down as he shook his head. “We should talk somewhere more private.”

“Not my room,” I said quickly. I don’t want you there if Renwell comes back. “It... stinks.” From my vomit.

“Right. Then follow me.”

He led me halfway down the hall, checked both directions, and pulled a sconce. A latch clicked, and a door popped open in the wall. We slipped through it and sealed ourselves in the hidden passage.

The smell of dust and stale wood reminded me of my childhood. Playing games in these corridors with Everett and Delysia. No maps existed, so we challenged each other to see who could discover the most passageways.

Delysia was usually too frightened to explore much on her own, but I’d thrived on the adventure. Everett had proven a stout competitor with his studious mind. Perhaps he knew more about them now than I did.

Mother said the passageways had existed since the Age of Gods—probably built into the palace by the god Terraum himself. He’d had a great love of tricky carpentry and was an excellent architect, having built the four Temples of Lancora as well.

We often wondered if the Keldiket or Eloren Isles palaces had such secrets. The fortress-like castle in Dagriel had been destroyed in a clan war over a hundred years ago.

Likely, we would never know.

Murky light leaked into the narrow hall from hidden vents and peepholes. We brought lamps with us as children. But Everett’s footsteps didn’t falter once.

We didn’t speak until he stopped at an exit panel. One I recognized.

“Everett, are you sure?” I breathed.

“It’s fine. She’s alone.”

He unlatched the door and opened it a sliver. After checking the hall, he opened it all the way and waved me out. We hurried to Delysia’s door and let ourselves in.

A fire burning low in the hearth of her sitting room illuminated the achingly familiar light pink furniture. The same furniture that had filled this room when it was our mother’s. Delysia had wanted it after her death, and seeing as how I’d chosen to become Renwell’s apprentice, I’d been in no position to argue.

Not that I wanted it, anyway. The memories were too close. Each tufted velvet chair carried Mother’s floral scent. The back window was still filled with the potted plants that she’d nurtured into a tiny forest.

Paintings of me, Everett, and Delysia filled the walls. Her favorite vase full of fresh flowers sat on the mantle.

The whole room felt as though Mother might walk in at any moment. A thought that flung shards of grief at my weak heart.

“Ev? Is that you? What’s—” Delysia scurried out of her bedroom, a pink dressing gown belted around her curvy figure. Her mouth dropped open when she spotted me. “Kiera?”

Her big blue eyes, so like our mother’s, filled with tears as she rushed toward me. She threw her arms around me, but then just as quickly backed away with her nose wrinkled. “You stink.”

I let out a choked laugh. “It’s good to see you too, Lys.”

She smiled, and I nearly wept at how much Mother shone through her face. Delysia had changed in the last few years. Her features had matured, her golden curls were longer than ever, and a newfound seriousness lingered in her eyes.

“Don’t sit down yet,” she ordered. In a cloud of pink satin, she hurried to the door and flipped the lock. “That won’t stall Father for long, but enough to hide if he comes to check on me.”

I frowned. “Does he do that often?”

“He says it’s to make sure I’m safe.” Delysia pursed her lips. “But it’s really just to spy on me, so speak softly and don’t stoke the fire.”

I remembered the soldier entering her room the night I left. “Seems you’ve had a lot of practice at hiding secret visitors, Lys.”

Her cheeks flushed as she grabbed my hand. “That’s none of your business.”

“Trust me, Kiera, I’ve tried to talk sense into her,” Everett spoke from where he sat in a high-backed armchair near the fire.

Delysia continued to try to drag me to her bathroom, but I pulled back. “I don’t have time for a wash, Lys. But I’ll take some mint leaf if you have it.”

“Fine, but take off that dirty cloak before you sit down. I can’t explain away mud stains. And let me get you a wet cloth for—for—” She trailed off, staring at my boots in horror. “Is that blood?”

I winced. “Not mine.”

“That’s what we were going to tell you, Lys,” Everett said, staring into the dying fire. “High Councilor Asher... he’s dead.”

I stared in shock at Everett. When did he start telling our little sister things like this? Normally, he refused to talk about the things Father did.

Delysia sank onto a plush foot stool with a gasp. “No! He was just here at the palace a few days ago! What happened?”

“I can’t tell you everything,” I said quickly. “But it’s—it’s my fault. The work I’m doing... it got Asher killed.”

“Executed,” Everett mumbled while Delysia gaped at me as if truly seeing me for the first time.

“How?” she asked.

“Does it matter? I’m trying to keep you safe,” I snapped, but the platitude felt like the dried bile in my throat.

A hardened expression I didn’t recognize stole over Delysia’s face, and she shot to her feet. “It does matter. Lies only protect the liar. Keeping me in the dark doesn’t keep me safe. It just makes me easier to manipulate. Henry taught me that.”

“Is Henry your soldier lover? Did you learn nothing from my mistakes, Delysia?” My voice cracked. “Shayn, the guards Father sent away... Julian.”

Her face softened. “I can take care of myself. Henry is a captain in the army. He’s above suspicion?—”

“No one is above suspicion when it comes to Father. That’s why Asher was killed.”

“And I pray that the gods find his soul.” Delysia lifted her chin stubbornly. “But I’m not letting go of Henry. We’re in love. And he’s not being watched as closely now that he’s stationed in Pravara instead of Calimber.”

I stiffened. “He was in Calimber? Why was he moved?”

Delysia shrugged, going to her bathroom and rummaging around. She brought back a mint leaf and a wet, soapy rag. I stuck the mint leaf in my mouth, and after removing my cloak, sat on a sofa to first clean my face, then my boots.

“Orders,” she said. “He told me conditions in the town and the mine were awful, and he was glad to leave.” Her mouth twisted in thought. “He did mention that he was surprised General Dracles ordered him to move because there were more workers than ever. They were expanding the town and building something on the beach.”

“What were they building?” Everett and I asked at the same time.

Delysia shook her head. “His letter didn’t say. Even though we have a trusted source smuggling our letters, he never wants to reveal too much in them.”

My head spun. Garyth had said Dracles was keeping him away from the mine. Was this why? Did he not want Garyth to see what Father was building out there?

Did Aiden know about this?

The mere thought of Aiden sent a frisson of worry through me. If my absence were discovered at The Silk Dancer ...

But I had one more question. “Do either of you know how Father became king?” I asked carefully.

Delysia waved her hand. “Of course. King Tristan wrote him in as successor before his early death. They were great friends. No other heirs. You know all this, Kiera.”

I shook my head, watching Everett. He looked deep in thought, as if he were back in his library trying to sort out the problems of the world with books.

In the silence, his serious gaze met mine, and he nodded.

My throat tightened. “What do you know? Who told you?”

“Mother,” he rasped, his throat bobbing. “About a year before she died. She didn’t want me to tell either of you.”

Delysia sent me a sharp look as if this proved her earlier point about hiding things.

I ignored her, desperate for answers. “Please, Ev. I need to know.”

His gaze turned hollow. “She told me I should know so that when I became king, I would have the truth of our past. Father was High Advisor until he murdered King Tristan and Queen Rhea—his pregnant wife.” Delysia gasped again, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. “Mother didn’t see it happen because she was pregnant with me and couldn’t leave her bed, but Father told her what he did.

“He took the throne in a coup so strategic that most of Rellmira didn’t question his succession. The ones who did mysteriously died or disappeared. Three days after his coronation, I was born the official heir of a stolen kingdom,” Everett finished bitterly.

Aiden had been telling the truth. Except he hadn’t mentioned his mother. Or how he survived. How did he find out who he was?

I peered at my brother’s distraught face. Should I tell him that he had supporters outside of the palace, working to put him on the throne?

But even that tiny bit of information might risk his safety, might make him ask questions I couldn’t answer. Whatever Delysia thought, sometimes secrets did save a life.

I stared down at the stained rag in my hands. Everything was stained. My family’s legacy, my view of the world, my soul.

Oh Mother, what do I do now?

I rose to spit out the mint leaf and rinse my mouth with a glass of water from Delysia’s refreshment table. “I need to leave.”

Delysia blinked, her face still pale with shock. “You—you can’t leave. I’ve just discovered my whole life has been a lie, begotten by murder. Please ... don’t leave.”

The tenuous hold I had on my emotions trembled with the added weight of hers. “I can’t, Lys. If I don’t get back...”

She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking. “I can’t take this anymore. Everyone lies to me. Everyone keeps secrets from me. And the one person who doesn’t is a hundred miles away.” She ripped her hands away from her face, angrily dashing away tears. “You know what? Fine! Leave, Kiera! You’re so good at it. But don’t think for one moment that you’re doing any of this for me.”

My jaw dropped. That was the one thing she’d gotten from our father—his quick temper.

I wanted to stay. I wanted to comfort her. But what did I have to offer? I felt as lost as she did.

Everett stood. “I can get you to the gate.”

I shook my head. “It’s easier if I go alone.”

I squeezed his hand, then reached for Delysia’s, half-expecting her to push it away. But she grabbed my hand and clung to it fiercely, her crumpled face turned toward the fire.

I released them, leaving a little piece of my heart behind, and disappeared back into the hidden passageways.

By the time I climbed through the bedroom window of The Silk Dancer and crept into bed amid the heavily sleeping, probably drunk dancers, I was certain of two things.

First, I couldn’t let Aiden kill my father. The assassinations had to stop. For Aiden’s sake as much as mine and my siblings’.

Secondly, I wasn’t going to do it Renwell’s way. Or my father’s way. Or even Aiden’s way. I needed to do this my way with as little bloodshed as possible.

Which meant being the perfect rebel.