Chapter 10

Senka

My voice was a hushed whisper, urgent yet restrained, as we weaved through the verdant labyrinth of the palace gardens. The scent of blooming roses lingered in the air, a stark contrast to the horror of what I'd just learned.

Wolfe and Valera flanked me, our footsteps soft on the pebbled path, eyes alert beneath the serene guise of an afternoon stroll.

"I heard something I probably shouldn't have," I murmured, casting a wary glance around the garden to ensure none of the other ladies promenading nearby could overhear. My cloak billowed gently in the breeze, hiding my face from the chill of the wind, but also prying eyes.

Wolfe"s piercing gaze, reminiscent of a hawk stalking its prey, never faltered. I knew he wanted to ask yet another probing question, only, I'd been avoiding it since excusing myself from the parlor room with him on my heels, not wanting to explain my history with the prince until I had my story straight.

With one hand draped casually over the pommel of his sword, hidden beneath the dark folds of his cloak, he exuded an air of quiet authority. Valera, clad in a flowing blue dress adorned with delicate pink lace that complemented her alabaster skin, leaned in closer to hear the news.

"Red Sam," I continued, my voice grim. "They say it's infected Saltburn. I don't know how many cases there are or if it's even true."

I watched as the name ignited a spark of recognition in Wolfe's eyes. The fishing village was small, inconspicuous, and the last place one would expect to find a remnant of the destruction from so long ago.

"Saltburn?" Valera repeated, her forehead creasing in confusion. "But why there? Red Sam has been eradicated for centuries and the god-blood who made it is long gone by now. As far as I know, he was the only one with that kind of blessing." She grimaced at the word "blessing," knowing that Red Sam was anything but a blessing.

With her love for history and healing, Valera was the perfect person to consult about the news. She had been my first stop after leaving Baz' parlor, but we'd been expected in the garden.

Valera shook her head, deep lines forming between her brows. "It could be something else entirely. Maybe it's some kind of natural sickness that spooked them. Or maybe these are all just rumors."

"Gods, I hope you're right," I muttered, still feeling a yawning pit open in my chest. "But I have a sinking feeling about it."

"Are you sure you heard him right?" She asked, her healer"s hands clenching and unclenching. "There is no cure for Red Sam, except for death. They say dying is easier, and towards the end, people even plead for it."

"I'll know for sure as soon as we can excuse ourselves," I muttered. I wanted to investigate, but I needed to keep up appearances, and that meant wasting time promenading with the others under the Tonne's watchful eye.

I kept my head down as we strolled casually, avoiding any eye contact with the women or guards nearby. My gaze skipped over the vibrant flowers surrounding us.

"If that"s true, then Saltburn could just be the beginning of something horrible. The first time around, it almost destroyed half the empire."

"I"ll send word to Cross," Wolfe said finally.

I stopped, turning to face him, nearly forgetting he was even there. The sunlight glinted off of his eyes and hair, and his black uniform was crisp and clean.

"Cross has eyes and ears are everywhere. I'm sure he already knows." Of that, I had little doubt. He was the keeper of secrets, and nothing got past his spies.

"Careful," he hissed, his eyes shifting up over my head as if someone might be listening in on every word.

I grinned for the first time since hearing the awful news. "So the hunter becomes the hunted."

Wolfe gave me a wry look. Everyone was afraid of Cross. It had less to do with his abilities and more to do with his connections. If you crossed him, he could make your life unlivable.

I wasn't afraid of him. We'd grown up together when his father was underlord, and now that he warmed my bed, any remaining scrap of fear had turned into a smoldering heat. Not only that, but I still had a need for his connections and his spies. After fifteen years, I was close to finding what I needed.

"It's smart to be afraid of him," Wolfe gritted out, trying to keep his voice from carrying. It wasn't exactly proper for a guard to be speaking to his lady so publicly. "But no. I'm only afraid of what might happen if we're compromised and Cross realizes that it's safer to cut his losses."

He had a point. As valuable as the three of us were, Cross wouldn't waste a second deciding to kill us just to save the rest of The Smoke from exposure. Even Valera. I was under no delusion that Cross harbored any real feelings for me in any way. I was a body to quench his thirst and that was all I would ever be to him.

We continued our walk, the scent of blooming roses wafting in the breeze. It was smart to be seen doing normal, everyday activities like all of the other ladies in hopes that the prince himself might be watching.

I noticed a cluster of women gathered around a rosebush. One of them, whose name I couldn"t recall, had her hands extended over the plant, gently manipulating the petals to change colors. I didn"t know what to call this specific blessing, but it was definitely intriguing.

My mind churned with thoughts of Saltburn as we walked past them. Elysian was the largest empire in the world, spanning the continent from coast to coast, even swallowing up islands scattered around it. Even the upper city was so packed full of people that disease would spread through the streets like a wildfire.

A murmur of voices came closer, and I instinctively pulled my cloak tighter around me. Valera nudged me with her arm discreetly, and I let it fall off of my head, the wind gliding through my hair and relaxing my shoulders. I reminded myself that I was a lady right now. I was Lady Senka, and I was here to get noticed.

Rosalind was staring at me from across the garden as she stood with several other women, her hair like spun gold against the bright backdrop of the garden. Our eyes met, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. No words were spoken, no gestures exchanged, save for the barest nod—a silent acknowledgment of the bond forged in the crucible of last night"s attack.

Lady Rosalind"s pale lips remained uncurved by a smile, her face composed as always, but her eyes shone with a gratitude she could not openly display. She moved past with her entourage, leaving me anchored to the spot.

"I hope I don't have to kill her." I sighed. Valera rolled her eyes and Wolfe"s expression remained stoic as ever.

"You mean you're not secretly salivating for your first death order?" Valera quipped with a knowing smirk.

I gave her a playful glare before smiling back mischievously. "What better way to liven up the monotony of this place?" I shrugged nonchalantly. "A little bloodshed never hurt anyone."

Three long daysstretched by before the prince finally returned. He'd left with a small entourage of the Tonne for Saltburn, and only arrived back in Andune this morning. The ladies of the court were in a flurry, gossiping and fawning over his arrival.

Meanwhile, Valera, Wolfe and I had secluded ourselves in my room, surrounded by piles of old written records that Valera had sent for.

Our winged messenger, Emore, checked in daily at my window and delivered messages back to Cross. We were fortunate enough to sneak in a trunk filled with scrolls and books under the guise of lost luggage past the vigilant guards at the gate.

Valera had also managed to locate an old library here in the palace, and had no trouble checking out books under her lady's name.

By the third day, my eyes were tired and strained from hours of pouring over old, dusty texts. Despite our efforts, we had little progress to show for all of our research. There were numerous references to Red Sam, but strangely enough, there was scarce information on the god-blood who supposedly created it.

All I knew for certain was that he went by the name Ozias. Born into slavery, he managed to make connections and secure jobs as a sellsword. Little was known about his family or origins, except for the fact that he had hidden his god-blood abilities for over twenty years of his life. What occurred during the time between then and when he set Red Sam loose on the world was shrouded in mystery, but there had to be records of it somewhere.

As time passed, our frustration grew like a relentless beast. Valera paced back and forth, her brow furrowed in deep thought, while Wolfe sat hunched over a thick tome, his eyes devouring the words on the pages.

"I can"t believe we"ve combed through all of this and still have no real answers to the largest massacre in modern history," Valera muttered, running her fingers through her hair in exasperation.

Wolfe grunted in agreement, forcefully closing the weighty book with a loud thud. "The records of Ozias"s personal life seem to have been tampered with, perhaps intentionally. It appears as though someone wanted to remove all evidence of Red Sam"s creator and only left behind the aftermath to justify the culling of undesirables."

I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples, a headache setting in. "Does it surprise you? Fear is the ultimate motivator. How else would they keep us all in line?"

Just as I spoke those words, Emore swooped in through the window with a sense of urgency, dropping a rolled piece of parchment at my feet. The intricate seal on it bore the mark of the underlord.

Everyone in the room went still, staring down at the letter, knowing exactly what it was. My first death order.

"What are the odds of this showing up the morning the prince returned from Saltburn?" I asked no one.

Swiping it from the floor, I broke the seal and unfurled the parchment, scanning its contents quickly.

My shoulders dropped in relief. My mark was only a priest. I could kill a no-name priest. They were all corrupt bastards who hid behind the guise of piety. They worshiped the old gods and yet turned their backs on their bloodlines.

Emore let out a soft hoot, sensing the tension in the room. Wolfe shot him a look, and in the blink of an eye, he was no longer a bird.

Emore stood nearly as tall as Wolfe, with black hair woven into hundreds of tiny braids that reached past his shoulders and skin a few shades darker than my own. His eyes were a soft, deep green, and they were kind for a criminal.

The sun was setting, casting long shadows through the window and painting the room in hues of gold and crimson, and soon we'd have to make our way to the ballroom for dinner with the prince, welcoming him back from his journey.

"They feed you too well," Emore said as he plucked a cake off of a golden tray perched on the small table before plopping down into a plush chair and taking a large bite. "I could get used to this, you know."

Valera chuckled, tossing a hankerchief his way as crumbs accumulated on his grinning lips. Her cheeks were bright pink, and her eyes were shining brighter than they were before he arrived.

"One of these days you're going to attract too much attention and get us all caught," Wolfe said with no real malice. His hair was a mess of waves after he ran his fingers through the strands repeatedly. I had to admit, it was nice seeing him so unguarded.

Emore just waved him off. "If I have to die to taste one of these cakes, then I'll meet my maker with a blissfully full belly."

Wolfe shook his head in exasperation, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Just make sure you leave before we get back this evening. We need your eyes in the air when the sun sets." He glanced at me and raised a brow.

I rolled up the parchment and tossed it his way. He caught it mid-air with ease. There was no need to hide my mark from Wolfe. Right now, we were a team.

Emore raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Always so serious, Wolfe. Can"t a man enjoy a moment of peace before a night of sin?"

Wolfe and I shared a rueful look as we both got to our feet. He was already dressed in his usual black clothing, black boots, and cloak. I excused myself behind the changing screen to do the same while Emore and Valera exchanged their usual banter.

I wondered if Emore would ever see Valera for the woman she was underneath her sweet fa?ade. She'd been infatuated with the man for years but never worked up the courage to tell him.

I doubted it. Men had a certain talent for overlooking the obvious. Maybe it was their blessing.