39. Kiera

Chapter 39

Kiera

Tomorrow.

Everything ended tomorrow. For better or for worse. Even though I wasn’t sure if there was a “better” for me.

The last six days had passed in a haze. Most of it waiting by Maz’s side—wishing him to wake up, telling him silly stories when he did, feeding him when he was hungry. All while trying not to let my guilt eat me alive from the inside.

Aiden eventually dissolved the clay shell from Maz’s back, leaving a mess of raw skin that was already scabbing and turning pink rather than red. But his tattoos were gone. Aiden had heavily wrapped him in bandages, but Maz didn’t speak a word that day.

Occasionally, Ruru sat with us, passing on gossip and sticky bread and telling Maz about his training. He cajoled me into running the rooftops with him a few times, but my heart wasn’t in it. My heart was under the knife in my boot.

Mother’s knife seemed to grow heavier and sharper the closer we came to the end of Aiden’s plan.

We hadn’t spoken much since the night he found me with Maz. We both seemed to be avoiding each other. I knew my reasons, but what were his?

He didn’t seem to suspect me or my story of “finding” Maz in the alley. He didn’t seem angry with me. Every so often, I caught him looking at me with a strange look on his face. As if his gaze was the only way he could reach me because there was something insurmountable between us. Something that he planned to remove.

But he didn’t know I’d been tasked to remove him —a crime I already knew I couldn’t commit. But no choice was so simple anymore. What would happen to him if I didn’t obey Renwell? What would Renwell and my father do to everyone I’d grown to care about when I didn’t assassinate their enemy?

Aiden might be their enemy, but with every day that passed, it became clear he was not Rellmira’s enemy.

Yet, ever since Renwell released us, I’d been waiting for another repercussion of some kind, especially since I hadn’t acted on his last order. But none came. And the silence was suffocating.

Which was why I’d come to see Melaena one last time. She didn’t know it was goodbye, but from the somber mood in the sitting room, she could feel it as I did.

“Did you get the food baskets I sent for all of you?” she asked, spinning a silver bracelet around and around her slender wrist.

“Yes,” I said, trying to smile for her benefit. “I think Maz appreciated the love notes from the dancers the most. But we all loved the food, especially the cinnamon ham.”

“I wish I could’ve done more,” she whispered, her beautiful eyes filling with tears. “I wanted to come visit, but... but I think Renwell is still watching me.”

My smile died. No words of comfort came because it was likely true, and there was nothing I could do about it. A few of the dancers had left after Renwell’s invasion of the club. Shows had been cancelled. Melaena had been skittish since the moment I’d shown up.

Melaena buried her face into her hands. “Gods, Kiera. It feels like it did before. During the rebellion. The hunts. The executions. The waiting, the gods-damned waiting, to see where— who —Weylin will strike next.”

“I’ve always hated waiting.”

“Yes, I suppose you would have a lot of experience with that. Being a personal guard and all.”

I nearly laughed, taking a sip of the red wine she’d offered me. “Yes. That.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You would’ve had a different angle of that dark time, though. What was it like in the palace during the rebellion?”

I slowly swirled the crimson liquid in the crystal glass. Maz’s blood splashed over my memory, and I set the glass down. “Much like what you experienced, I’m guessing. Servants disappeared overnight. No one wanted to speak or look each other in the eye anymore. Fear so thick you could ball it up and toss it back and forth.”

My eyes caught on the tapestry covering the tunnel, the one Renwell probably guessed was here now. Yet he hadn’t come looking for it.

A question had stuck in my mind since the night I’d helped Helene and Isabel escape. And now that this whole charade was almost over, what did I have to lose by asking it?

“The tunnel,” I began, the words thick in my throat. “You said your family used it to help rebel supporters flee Aquinon seven years ago.”

Melaena nodded.

I took a deep breath. “Why didn’t the Mendacis family use it? You must’ve known them.”

She blinked, her expression vacillating between confusion, shock, then sad understanding. “It was you, wasn’t it?” she asked softly. “The girl Julian was secretly seeing.”

Hearing his name struck me like a fist to my chest. I didn’t confirm, averting my eyes to stare at the tapestry.

“He never told anyone your name, only that he was in love with a girl and didn’t want to leave her behind.”

Yet I always seem to be the one left behind. My face crumpled with pain, despite my best efforts.

Melaena slid over to my couch and pulled my head to rest on her shoulder as she rubbed my arms. “No wonder he didn’t want to tell us who you were. A royal servant and the son of a rebel.” She shook her head, her long beaded earrings brushing over my cheek.

No. A princess and a traitor. That’s how Father put it before ordering the Mendacis family execution.

“My father tried many times to convince his father to leave,” Melaena said, her voice shaky. “But Julian’s father wouldn’t listen. Insisted it was his gods-given duty to stand up to the crown for the people’s sake. He asked us to take his family—his wife, Julian, and the two girls. But... they refused. Renwell rounded them up two days later.”

“I know the rest,” I said quickly, not wanting to relive it.

Melaena’s throat bobbed. “Julian was my friend. A year younger than me, but we learned from the same Teachers, went to the same parties, knew the same people.”

A worm of jealousy burrowed into my gut. She had more time with him. She hadn’t had to hide her friendship with him. I’d met Julian at one of the few open gatherings we’d had at the palace before Father closed it off to everyone but his most trusted officials and nobles.

But Julian had loved me. He’d wanted to stay for me. He’d wanted to stand up to Father the way his father did.

The last time we spoke, I’d told him he was a fool, that he should run. He refused.

But now, perhaps, I was the fool. Caring for Aiden and the others the way I did. My love for Julian was the one of the reasons he was killed. I didn’t want to do the same to Aiden or anyone else.

I leaned away from Melaena. “I need to stop Aiden,” I whispered. “Tell me how to do it.”

Her mouth dropped open, a tear still trickling down her cheek. “What do you mean, Kiera? Why would you want to stop him?”

I growled with impatience, shooting to my feet and pacing the room. “I don’t want to stop Everett becoming king. I want to keep Aiden from getting killed.” I aimed a heavy glance at her. “Like Julian.”

Her face cleared, and she gave me a sympathetic smile. “Because you love him.”

I twitched away from the word. I wasn’t sure what I felt. There were too many knives—too many lies and secrets—embedded in my feelings.

She sighed. “I don’t think you can stop him. Aiden... well, you’ve seen him, heard him. He’d give his life for the sake of Rellmira.”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to keep from happening!”

She threw up her hands. “And I’m saying he has no fear for his life at this point. The number of setbacks he’s overcome, everything at stake, the vengeance that’s been haunting him for years... He won’t stop. Maybe not even for you.”

I froze. Not for his life. Not even if I asked.

But what about everyone else’s lives?

Renwell knew what day Aiden planned to attack, thanks to me. He could set up any number of precautions. If Aiden knew his plan was at risk, would he stop it? Retreat to fight another day?

Dread punched me low in the stomach. The only way to convince Aiden his plan was in jeopardy was to tell him what I’d done. Who I was.

And pray that he wouldn’t kill me like Renwell thought he would.

Heart in my throat, I drew Melaena up and hugged her fiercely, her familiar scent reminding me of the joy I’d found at her club, of Mother’s words, of Delysia’s room.

Of things I’d lost.

“Thank you,” I said tightly, “for the home I never knew I needed and the friendship I always wanted. I hope I’m worthy of it after tomorrow.”

“Kiera—” Brow wrinkled, Melaena tried to keep hold of me, but I shook her off.

“Keep the club closed tomorrow. Don’t go anywhere until one of us comes for you.”

Fear brightened Melaena’s eyes. “Kiera, don’t do anything reckless.”

I stabbed the button for the tunnel with my finger and gave her a sad smile over my shoulder. “No, I’m about to do something right.” I shut the door between us and ran.

By the time I reached the apartment, it was a mess of activity. A wagon waited outside, attached to a pair of horses. The pyrist, Floren, sat on the driver’s seat.

The warmth fled my body. “You!” I gasped. My gaze flew to the open door of the apartment. “Gods, no. Maz, is he... Are you?—”

Floren shook his head, his sweaty scalp gleaming in the dying light. “I’m here to pick up a live one for the harbor. For passage on a ship, not for burial,” he clarified.

A ship? I raced inside.

Nikella and Aiden were transporting Maz from his cot to a stretcher. Ruru sat at the table, holding Maz’s axe and whistler, sniffling quietly.

“Where are you taking him?” I demanded.

“Ship,” Aiden grunted, settling Maz on the stretcher.

Maz faced me with a hopeful smile. His beard has grown longer, and his eyes had gotten back a bit of their sparkle. “I’m going home, lovely.”

“Home? To Dagriel?”

“Yes. I won’t be going back as a triumphant warrior, but at least I’ll be home. With my family.”

I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re every inch the triumphant warrior. Think of all the stories you’ll regale the women of Dagriel with.”

He chuckled.

Nikella and Aiden carried him out of the apartment and laid him in the wagon. Ruru and I followed.

Ruru nestled his axe next to him and moved to add his whistler, but Maz stopped him. “Keep it, little brother. Then bring it back to me one day when you’re a warrior, too.”

Ruru clutched it to his chest as if it were Maz’s first-born. “I will, Maz. I won’t let you down.”

“Impossible.” Maz’s gaze shifted to me from his awkward position. “A moment, Kiera?”

The other three shuffled a few feet away to give us some privacy.

“What is it?” I asked, tears already gathering like rain in a cloud.

“Protect him,” he said simply. “Protect all of them. He needs you. I need you to take my place. Promise me.”

“I’ll try, Maz. I swear it.”

Maz smiled peacefully. “Then say yes when he asks you to come with him after tomorrow. I want to see you again, Kiera.”

Tears leaked from my eyes, and I told my last, most painful lie. “Y-you will. You’ll show me all of Dagriel. I want to see everything—the snow, the mountains, and those strange animals you tell stories about.”

“And the people,” Maz added.

“Especially the people.”

He winked at me, and I managed to smile through my tears before I backed away.

Nikella climbed up next to Floren, who snapped the reins and rode away with Maz. Ruru headed back inside, his head hanging low. I wiped my cheeks dry as Aiden stepped closer to me, his hand brushing mine.

“You’re not going with him?” I asked, not brave enough to look into his eyes.

“I’ll see him soon.”

“Because you’ll be getting on the ship too?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he hooked my chin with his finger and turned my face until my gaze landed on his.

“My fate is not yet decided, little thief. But tonight is all ours, if we wish it.”

My heart turned to stone. I couldn’t be with him like this. I had to talk to him before I lost myself to the temptation that reached for me behind his intense eyes.

Gods, how easy it would be to run away. To hide in this new, vibrant, intoxicating thing between us. But I had to stop running away and hiding. I had to face my demons.

“Can we talk?” I asked. “Once Ruru is asleep?”

Aiden’s brows lowered, but he nodded. He released me, and we joined Ruru in the apartment. Ruru had grabbed some potato soup from Sophie, and for dessert, we ate leftover chocolate-covered raspberries from Melaena.

I could barely eat, my nerves twisted into such tight knots I wanted to vomit.

My courage flagged every time I met Aiden’s warm green eyes. But then I remembered my promise to Maz. I remembered Melaena saying he wouldn’t stop for himself.

This is the only way. You have to tell the truth.

All too soon, Ruru rose and reverently placed Maz’s whistler on a shelf by the door. Then he traipsed off to bed.

“Maz passed on his love of weaponry, I think,” Aiden said, shaking his head with a small smile.

I nodded, drumming my fingers on the table and glancing out into the night. Gods damn it, I’d almost rather face down a pack of Wolves than the truth.

Aiden laid his hand over my dancing fingers. “What is it, Kiera? You can tell me anything.”

My eyes darted to Maz’s empty cot, then to the door behind which Ruru slept.

Do it. Make him understand your intention was good. That you simply wanted to protect your family. And now you want to protect your new one as well.

I met Aiden’s steady, earnest, caring gaze and broke.

“Don’t attack tomorrow night,” I whispered.

He stiffened. “What are you talking about? Why not?”

Gods, I couldn’t breathe. “J-just don’t. It’s not safe. He knows. Renwell knows you’re attacking tomorrow.”

Aiden leapt from his chair, letting it fall with a crash. I rose as well, stumbling back toward the door. In case I needed to flee.

“What in the deep, dark, wandering hell do you mean, Kiera?” he rasped.

My whole body shook. I slowly reached into my boot. “I’m not who I said I was,” I whispered, the words scratching past my tightened throat. I withdrew Mother’s knife from its sheath in my boot. “I was sent to?—”

He seized my wrist in a grip so hard I cried out. All the blood had drained from his face, horror flooding his eyes.

“Where did you get that knife?” he hissed.

“What?” I twisted in his grasp, but he didn’t budge, his gaze fastened to the gold-hilted sunstone knife. “I’m trying to tell you. Why are you?—”

“ Tell me where, Kiera! ” he roared.

I gasped. “It’s my mother’s.”

He flung my wrist away from him as if I’d stabbed him. He staggered backward, looking me up and down as if he’d never seen me before. “Your—your mother.”

I stood there, trembling, confused. Until it hit me. The only possible way he could recognize this knife. The knife Mother had carried on her only when she went to visit the Temple. As she did the night she was murdered.

My world shattered.

“ You ,” I gasped. “ You killed my mother.”

Aiden flinched, then his face steeled with rage. “And you’re Weylin’s gods-damned daughter! A spy sent to kill me!”

“You murdered my mother, you bastard!”

I lunged at him with the knife just as the door exploded open behind me. I started to pivot just as Aiden roared, “Nikella! NO!”

Pain stabbed through my neck.

I staggered, my vision blurring.

My fingers reached toward the pain. Feathers. A dart. Gods, which one?

I fell to my knees. Mother’s knife fell with me.

Mother. Murdered by the man I thought I...

Someone cradled me to the ground as consciousness fled my mind as if it were a sinking ship. I fell to the darkest depths.

May the gods bring my soul to yours, Mother. I can’t lose you again.