Chapter 35

Chapter 35

S ebastian blinked as the allume street lamps blazed to life, flooding the market district street with pale silver-gold light.

“What—is the magic back?”

“Oh, thank the goddess?—”

“What if it goes out again? Are the wards back, too?”

Chatter filled the air as Sebastian sagged slightly against his horse. When the magic had snuffed out and chaos had erupted in the city, he’d rushed down into the streets with Quentin, Matheo, Drystan, and Trefor. Feran stayed behind with Mariah, who’d worn a determined look on her face as she murmured something about knowing how to fix it.

It seems she’d been successful. At least, Sebastian hoped that was the case.

Night workers on the docks had started the screaming that had woken them all in the early hours of the morning. Their lanterns had flickered out, and the darkness drove them into a sudden panic. They’d raced through the streets, shouting the alarm, afraid that with the wards now down, the pirates would come storming back.

But even in the weak moonlight, no black sails dotted the horizon, and Sebastian and the Armature’s task had been to calm the hysteria raised by those workers. It would serve no one if the city descended into needless madness.

“Sir? What happened? Are we safe?”

Sebastian lifted his head. A young woman, flanked closely by a man near her age—her husband, he presumed—stood a few paces away, her brow pushed together with worry.

He forced a smile. “There was a short allume outage, but there is nothing to worry about. The city is safe.”

The woman shared a glance with her husband. “Is it … is it fixed? Will it go out again?”

“The queen herself fixed it,” Sebastian answered. He didn’t know for sure, but he was confident in Mariah. When she said she could, he believed her.

“The queen?” The woman’s husband gripped his wife’s arm. “Queen Ryenne?”

Sebastian paused. “No,” he said slowly. “Queen Mariah.”

“I—Oh.” The husband’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry. I forgot?—”

“Has she been coronated? Do we have a new queen?” the woman interrupted her husband, suspicion flashing through her eyes.

Sebastian narrowed his. “No. Not yet. But she will be, any day now. And even still, she is Onita’s Queen, in all the ways that matter.” He gestured with his chin. “You can return home now. Dawn is approaching soon, and the city is safe.”

The couple eyed him again, that unnerving suspicion still rife in their stares, before nodding and retreating down the street.

Sebastian released an exhale, running a hand through his hair.

He hated that suspicion, that distrust these people carried. Not for him—he could stomach that, considering how much he deserved it—but for Mariah. She’d only been back for three days and needed a chance to recover and heal. But the people needed a queen, if only for the sense of stability it offered.

Sebastian’s stomach knotted with worry. The way Mariah had looked when they’d found her in those cold castle gardens—clothes torn and tattered, hair hanging in clumps down her back, frame starved and weak—haunted his sleepless nights. He knew she’d immediately started training with Trefor, which he didn’t particularly like, but he understood her reasoning.

She just looked so … weak . Sebastian wished she would focus on resting and recovering, but supposed she, too, had her own demons she needed to fight.

He’d also heard from Quentin that Andrian had crossed paths with her in the hall outside of her suites as he was grabbing some of his belongings. Sebastian ground his teeth as he watched more city-folk meander back to their homes, staring blearily up at the illuminated street lamps.

Gods, it made him fucking angry . He’d given Andrian one instruction: stay away from Mariah. And not only had Andrian broken that his second day back, but he’d then questioned her.

As if he had any fucking right to her thoughts or experiences. Not when he was the reason she looked so changed and broken.

The fact that Andrian had since committed to holing up in his rooms ever since was the only good to come from any of it.

“Seb, we should head back.” Drystan appeared on the other side of Sebastian’s horse, blond hair hanging around his face. “I think things have calmed down. Sunrise isn’t far off, and I’d like to at least get a little more sleep.”

Sebastian sighed and nodded. “Yeah, you’re right.” He turned, tightening his saddle.

As he was about to swing up into the seat, a figure strode into the street.

It wasn’t that there was a person still out at that hour that made Sebastian pause. It was the strange red cloak the figure wore, the color of a blood-stained sunset, and the way it completely concealed the stranger’s face.

Sebastian held himself utterly still as the man walked straight for him, not stopping until he stood so close that he shared Sebastian’s breath. The man appeared unarmed, but Sebastian’s hand tightened around his sword tucked beneath his saddle.

The man leaned in closer, and Sebastian glimpsed his eyes beneath the hood. They were fevered and wild as if struck with some insanity.

“Tonight was just the beginning,” the man whispered roughly, voice like ground coals. “The moons are setting, and the sun will soon rise.”

Sebastian stumbled back, pulling his blade from its sheath in a single, smooth movement. He leveled it at the stranger, just as a manic grin spread on his face beneath the hood.

“What did you say?”

But the man was already backing away, eyes still gleaming with madness. He turned, raising his arms to the street.

“ The sun will rise! ” he shouted into the pre-dawn air, the few people still lingering on the streets turning with curiosity before he sprinted down the nearest alley.

“Oh, fuck this—” Quentin lunged past Sebastian, about to pursue the stranger into the belly of the city. But Sebastian caught his arm, hauling him back.

“No, Quentin. Let him go.”

Quentin whirled. “What? He’s mad . What the fuck was that about?”

“Exactly.” Sebastian glanced down the alley where the man had vanished. “He’s mad. Let it be. The last thing we need is for a member of Mariah’s Armature to be seen dragging an unarmed civilian through the street. You saw how they were tonight.”

Quentin growled, green eyes flashing, but dropped his hand from his baldric. “Fine. What did he even say to you? Before he shouted the sun thing.”

Sebastian glanced away again, inspecting a crack in the cobblestones beneath them.

The moons are setting, and the sun will soon rise.

“Nothing,” he said finally, turning to his horse. He could feel Quentin’s eyes on him still but did his best to shrug it off. “It was gibberish, nonsensical. Like you said, he was obviously mad. Or just had a too-late night at a tavern nearby.”

Quentin grunted. “Weird fucking night, I swear. I hope the goddess at least lets me nap some today.”

Sebastian murmured agreement but wasn’t truly listening. The man’s words, while nonsense, still raced through his head.

It was all likely nothing, truly just the words of a drunk or a madman. But Sebastian couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that it felt a bit like a threat.

He would tell Mariah about it, he vowed to himself. Not tomorrow; she was still recovering, and after whatever she did tonight to fix the allume would likely need even more rest. But eventually, when she was ready, he would tell her.

And until then, there was no need to tell anyone else.