Chapter 7

Senka

Wolfe led the way through the servant"s halls. They were dusty, dark, and damp tunnels that traveled the length of the entire palace to make it easier for servants to pass through unseen by the wealthy elites.

Once we were far away from the door we"d disappeared through and the sound of the guard"s clanking steel faded, I launched myself at Wolfe, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt before slamming him up against the stone wall.

"Why did you do that, you fucking idiot?" I gritted through clenched teeth. My shadows swirled inside me like creeping tendrils, itching to make an appearance. "Are you trying to get us caught before we even meet the prince? We haven"t even been here a fucking day..."

"If I hadn"t killed him first, we would have had no choice but to let them escape. They would have exposed us, and then this entire mission would have been compromised. We don"t need rumors of a trained mercenary poking around the pageant circulating around."

We were both breathing heavily, sweat beading at the back of my neck as adrenaline slowly left my body. As much as I loathed to admit it, Wolfe was completely right. I hated when he was right.

Letting go of his collar, I took a step back. Wolfe stood straighter and made a show of fixing his uniform.

"Well, warn me next time, will you?" I grumbled, peering down to assess the damage to my own outfit and cringing at the sight of all the blood. "Shit, this won"t work. I need to change and get back before the prince arrives."

Wolfe raised a single brow. "Do you really think they"ll continue with the ceremony after that?"

"The chaos will only add to the excitement. These nobles thrive on scandals and debauchery." I huffed a laugh, picturing the frenzy of shattered glasses and overturned tables we had left behind. "A royal party without at least one death might even be considered dull."

Without waiting for his reply, I sauntered down the dimly lit corridor, my hips swaying in a dangerous rhythm. "And who knows, perhaps one of those ladies will find themselves in a rather compromising position with a guard before the night is through. Gossip can change like the wind in these halls. Rumors might just appear out of thin air."

Maybe I'd start one of my own, if only to distract them from what happened tonight. Not that it had anything to do with me, but we didn't need to draw any more attention than we already would.

"Maybe you should have taken a more noble approach yourself," he called after me, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Threatening Lady Rosalind with ripping out her tongue might have done more harm than good, don"t you think?"

I laughed and turned back to him as I reached a door that probably led to a kitchen, judging by the wash buckets set aside along with mops and a few discarded wooden crates.

Smiling wryly, I just pushed the door open. "But where"s the fun in being noble? It"s much more exhilarating to play with fire."

The lights were all dim, and the kitchen, as I rightly suspected, was vacant. I thanked the gods for their small mercies. Having a gaggle of kitchen staff losing their heads over my blood-soaked dress was the last thing I needed. Luckily, they were all busy bustling around the portion of the palace where the ceremony was being held, keeping them busy.

Wolfe followed closely behind me as we found the servant"s staircase that would lead to the guest wing. Our things had already been brought up to our rooms, and it wouldn"t take me but a minute to get changed.

Once I reached my room, I sent my shadows inside to inspect it, finding nothing amiss. As I closed the door behind us, I took a moment to compose myself. Valera's things were already set up on a long table by the balcony, so clearly she'd been here as well, telling me she wasn't anywhere near the ballroom.

I quickly stripped off my bloody dress, tossing it to the ground in frustration as Wolfe leaned against a nearby wall with his arms folded across his chest. I wore my silk shift but I wasn"t afraid or ashamed of my body. He"d seen me in much worse conditions.

"I can"t believe you got us into this mess," he said casually while watching me scramble for something else to wear.

"Oh, please," I scoffed as I dug through my wardrobe. "You act like you didn"t enjoy it, but I know you too well."

He rolled his eyes but couldn"t hide a smirk at my comment. We had been unintentional partners-in-crime for years now, always finding ourselves tangled up in some kind of trouble or another.

Finally finding what seemed like an appropriate replacement outfit—not quite as elegant nor fit for the prince's royal scrutiny—I disappeared behind a changing screen and slipped into it swiftly before heading back out into the room.

Wolfe's golden eyes drifted up and down my body, and when they reached my eyes, I arched a brow, a wry smirk on my lips. "See something you like? Don't tell me dresses are what do it for you." His scowl deepened, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and desire. I spun, giving him my back. "Make yourself useful and tie me off."

There was a moment of hesitation, and then he was striding towards me, his every step heavy and solid. I sucked in a silent, sharp breath as a warm, calloused finger ran down the length of my exposed spine.

As he began securing the laces of my dress with deft fingers, I couldn"t help but sink into the thickening tension between us, the way it'd been for years now.

"Being useful is not exactly my specialty," he murmured, his warm breath ghosting over my ear. Intense heat radiated off him, a welcome contrast to the cool air that surrounded us.

Wolfe"s fingers lingered on my skin longer than necessary as he took his time to meticulously cross each ribbon.

"Maybe you should make it your new specialty, since you're so good at it," I purred, my voice low and breathy. The air between us crackled.

After what felt like an eternity, Wolfe finally finished tying off the laces of my dress. I resisted the urge to fidget, trying to remain still as his rough knuckles traced a path back up my spine with excruciating slowness.

I could hear his breath hitching, indicating he was about to say something that could potentially shatter my resolve. Acting on instinct, I stepped back from his imposing figure, feeling the cool air rush in to fill the void between us once more.

"We'll be late," I muttered, slipping my feet into my silk slippers, pointedly not meeting Wolfe's eyes.

He stared at me for a moment too long, but ultimately decided not to push me. Instead, he headed for the door, and I followed, hoping the heat in my cheeks would fade by the time we made it to the ballroom.

The ballroom was remarkablyclean when we entered again. We"d snuck through the labyrinth of castle corridors, lined with closed-off rooms, parlors, and even a couple of small libraries. I wanted to explore the palace more, but it would have to wait until all the pageantry was over.

I wondered how the palace staff had managed to make the ballroom look serviceable again after flailing ladies had knocked over all those tables, goblets, and food trays. It was immaculate, almost as if by magic. On second thought, I had no doubt there was a god-blood responsible for that.

Wolfe followed on my heels, ever the stoic protector, looming just over my shoulder, much like the dozens of other guards in the room visiting with their own charges. It was a sea of frills and silk once again, but this time the chatter was nervous.

Gossip, rumors, and whispers filled the air as guests discussed what had happened earlier. Some speculated on who was responsible for creating such chaos, while others were more concerned about what would happen next.

A hush fell over the room as the sound of heavy doors slamming against stone echoed off of the walls. Several royal guards entered from a gilded door at the front of the room near the royal thrones. There were three iron thrones, inlaid with gems so large that they could feed every family in the lower city for generations to come.

Ladies started tittering, preening, and blushing as the Prince strode into the ballroom.

He was taller standing up than I realized, now that I was no longer trying to hide myself. He might have even been slightly taller than Wolfe, but I couldn"t know that for sure yet.

Tonight, he was dressed to kill, in all black, as the commander of the Tonne often was, complete with a battle-worn curved blade strapped to his side, heavy boots, and a black crown made of onyx. His right eyebrow, his full lower lip, and both of his ears were pierced with golden jewelry, making him look like a god made flesh. He looked every bit like the warrior that the rumors claimed he was.

Wolfe and I allowed ourselves to be swept up with the crowd, heading toward the thrones for the prince to address the room. He stood with his chin held high and his piercing eyes glaring out over the sea of faces.

Trying not to be obvious about it, I made sure to stay on the fringes of the crowd. Yes, I was here to capture the prince"s attention, but I needed to do some watching first.

Once the chaos of shuffling feet died down and everyone found their place, the same door opened again, and out came just two guards, pushing the aging, sickly emperor in a wheeled chair that only the wealthy could afford.

He looked a lot like Prince Bazaan up close, if you could see past the deep wrinkles, stringy gray hair, and eyes that didn"t seem to want to remain open for very long.

Nobody knew exactly what ailed him, but it ate away at his life force bit by bit, until technically, he was no longer fit to rule on his own. The man could barely breathe on his own, let alone rule a functioning empire.

Baz didn"t bother glancing at his father as the old man was wheeled up next to his throne. He simply stared forward, those shrewd eyes taking in every individual face.

So the game had already begun.

As the prince began his address, I watched him closely. Despite the way he carried himself with a sense of authority and power that commanded respect from everyone in the room, there was something about him that made me uneasy. It wasn"t just his sharp features or piercing gaze; it was an energy, almost palpable in its intensity.

I mostly tuned out his words. They were most likely pre-written for him. He laid out the terms of the pageant, and they weren"t anything I hadn"t been anticipating.

There would be seven weeks in which we would prove ourselves worthy of being crowned Empress. Seven weeks of rigorous testing would weed out the weak from the strong.

Ladies would be disqualified at the end of a culling night each week, sent home with their tails tucked between their legs, off to secure themselves the next wealthy lord that would secure their positions at court.

He was coming to the end of his welcome speech when our eyes locked for the very first time.

Or, well, the first time, according to him.

As for me, I"d looked into those eyes over a decade ago, and begged for just a sliver of mercy.

15 years earlier

I could tell we'd made landfall when the sound of gulls screeched through the open porthole. Peering through it, I searched for any clues as to where we ended up, praying to the gods that we hadn't gone back to the Ashwater or somehow ended up on the mainland of Elysian.

The ship was docked, and men were coming and going from the ship, carrying all manner of cargo—mostly smoking herbs and fish. I didn't see any of the men I'd run from out there, and I doubted Captain Savage would have chased a cargo ship just to get his hands on two god-blood children. There were plenty of those in Elysian, he didn't need us.

We needed to slip away before we got caught.

"Beau, wake up," I hissed, jostling my twin brother in his sleep. "We need to go now, Beau, get up?—"

His head popped up. His dark hair was was a wild mess of curls we'd have to cut off later to blend in. For now, I reached down and pulled the hood of his cloak over his head, hoping it would hide the black of his eyes from sight.

Back at the Ashwater, Beau was a pariah. A god-blood that was too dangerous to be allowed in public. Shadows filled the whites of his eyes and writhed under his skin, and he had little to no control over them.

Unlike mine, his shadows were unruly and defiant. Our parents had kept him inside our home like a prisoner, afraid that he'd be carted off to Andune and executed.

He blinked at me as he wiped the sleep from those depthless black eyes, not saying a word. Beau was mute. Had been all his life. But I could read him as plainly as if he'd spoken aloud; every emotion that flitted across the face that was a slightly more masculine mirror of my own.

We stood on shaky sea legs, Beau grabbing his pack from beneath a heap of discarded sails in the corner of the cargo hold. I fingered the small knife in my pocket as I rushed to the porthole, knowing it was our only way off this ship. We were plenty small enough to fit if we shimmied a bit.

"You first," I urged, my voice strained with urgency. "Swim for shore as fast as you can and I"ll be right behind you."

Beau hesitated, his brow furrowing in worry, his lips parting as if he wanted to protest. But we both knew he couldn't.

"No arguments. Just go!" I pushed him towards the porthole.

Reluctantly, he braced himself and hoisted himself up, his body hanging halfway out of the window. I grabbed onto the bottoms of his boots and gave him one final shove, propelling him through the opening and into the open sea.

I heard a splash from below as I lifted myself up and over the edge, staring down at the water sloshing against the hull of the wooden ship. The water looked icy, and dread coursed through my veins at the thought of the sharp pain that was about to penetrate through my whole body. It was the dead of winter, and it was suicide to swim out there for very long.

The door to the room slammed open and two men stomped in. A large one with missing teeth and a thick grey beard pulled a sword from behind his fat body. "Thief!" He ambled toward me.

I scrambled to get the rest of my body to squeeze through, no longer worried about the icy water.

A sudden warmth slammed into my back, knocking the breath from me, just as a bright golden light filled the darkened room. It knocked me from the window, and I fell to the floor with a thud, cracking the back of my head against the wall.

Pain lanced through me, knocking me off kilter, and I grabbed for the wall to bring myself upright as I swayed.

The light disappeared as fast as it came, leaving the room dark, damp, and silent. I blinked the lights from my eyes, realizing that the large man who'd been about to drag me from the window was now lying on the ground, face down and unmoving. The second man was slumped against the far wall, his eyes wide open, and his mouth agape in terror.

With a curse, I staggered back. His eyes… they were burned right out of his skull as if he'd been set on fire from within, leaving behind two blackened and charred holes in his head.

A boy barged into the room, slamming the door shut and barricading it with a barrel. He was breathing hard, his sunset-colored eyes darting between me and the open porthole, his black hair in a disarray, and the sleeves of his shirt slightly charred on the cuffs. My mind raced as I tried to make sense of the chaos.

Was he the one who did that to the men? But how?

My shadows stirred, ready to strike the boy down if he so much as lunged for me. He didn't have weapons on him, so I could probably kill him and leap from the ship in seconds.

My fingers dug into the metal of the porthole, my back turned to the young man behind me. With a swift motion, I heaved myself up and through the opening, but I didn"t let go just yet.

There was a ledge just below the window, allowing me to balance precariously off the side of the ship as the icy wind whipped at me. I climbed up and out, hanging onto the side.

The boy reached the porthole, bringing himself nearly nose-to-nose with me. I instinctively recoiled, nearly flinging myself into the water, but a sudden hand gripped mine, warm and strong, holding me to the side of the ship.

Beau had to be on land by now. If not, he'd be too frozen to tread water for much longer. The thought made my stomach roll and my shadows writhe.

The boy's eyes met mine—a strange mixture of golds, purples, and reds that I'd never seen in a human before. They were the color of the sunset over the darkening sea.

God-blood. He had to be. Whatever he did to those men, he could do to me. I wasn't sure my shadows were ready to battle something like that.

The boy said, "I can"t do anything else for you," and the wind almost carried his voice away. "There are men scouring the ship searching for you and your brother. They"ve been tailing us for days and we only have a small window of time before they realize you're down here."

"Why are you helping us?" I asked breathlessly, forgetting for a moment that I was supposed to be disguising my voice. I'd cut my hair off to look like a boy, nearly identical to Beau now. It was the safest way to hide.

He stared at me for a moment, as if he were contemplating whether or not to tell me the truth or make something up. He let out a long breath, glancing at the door hurriedly.

I couldn't explain why I didn't pull my hand from his, but warmth spread through me as his fingers tightened around mine. "Because I refuse to hunt my own kind."

His eyes flared brightly, but only for a moment, as if the sun itself flickered from inside of him before dying out again. My heart lurched and my shadows rose to the surface, sensing the threat the boy posed. But I held them back, because he was right, and he'd saved me.

Before I could say a thing, the boy pushed me over the edge of the ship, sending me plummeting towards the undulating water.