Chapter 12

Though I was still draped in a tattered black lace wedding gown, injured and seething, I found my way through the thick trees, crossed into Silbath, and sank back into the comfort of the city. The outskirts were a place most didn't bother traveling. Nothing surrounded the cities' borders but desolation, and wounded souls craved company.

I kept all thoughts of self-pity away as I pressed more and more weight on my aching leg until I could walk an even stride. I could not be weak, and I would not be prey. The Maestro's men lurked most heavily in the streets near the Dancing Ghost and his magical theater, Misery's End.

The elusive sun slipped beneath the horizon, an invitation from the world for me to fall back into the darkness I was so used to. Using the downspouts and worn ornamental ledges, I managed to scale a building I was becoming too familiar with. It took longer than I would have liked, and I stumbled once, barely catching myself, but each movement was a necessary evil, an escape.

The rooftops were a balm. A second realm of solitude I'd played in as a child, the appalling sights within the city raising me. I knew them like a baker knew his recipes, or a dancer, her steps. I could draw a map with my eyes shut, learning first this world above and then the one below. The city's seedy underbelly was no place for a child. It was hardly a place for a woman with a title, but I'd grown there, too. I'd learned what a man might say to a lady to take her to bed. Or what she might say before stealing his wallet. I'd learned which streets were always violent and what Lady Visha looked for in her prostitutes. I'd learned intimately about the depths of jealousy while watching other people have the freedom to live when I was damned with the charge to kill.

But the one person I'd avoided, above all else, was Drexel Vanhoff, the Lord of the Underworld, if his nefarious position held a proper title. Because at the core of who he was, the Maestro was a collector. Using his magic to bind every poor soul he could, building an army, if ever he decided to turn on the royals.

I'd never challenge for my kingdom title. A small part of me, buried beneath the anger and the sadness, was glad to be rid of the burden. To go to war with this strange new king would be one thing, a guaranteed failure ending in misery for all of Perth. But if history had taught me anything, an unknown king didn't rise without the heavy hand of someone else. And the only one with that much power was Drexel. But he was as dangerous as they came, and I'd rather gut myself than sit before him, fight against him, or even exchange words.

Still, I was a Hark. And while Death became my master the second my mother died, branding me the harbinger, I could do something, anything, to stop the downfall of this realm. My counterpart had to be out there somewhere, hidden in the underbelly. Someone knew where she was, and now that I had nothing left to lose—no genuine friends, no family, no royal title—perhaps she was the last thing I could give to this diseased world. I might have been born Death's Maiden, but I could die a savior.

Squatting in the heart of Silbath was not a good idea. I needed to get to Perth, but first, perched above Misery's end, I watched. And waited. I wanted to know why Orin had broken into the castle. And why, of all things, had he married me when he hated me from his very core?

Though I might have left him there for Death to reap his soul, I knew he must've been more than a simple performer, more than an attractive guy with a solid right hook.

But no one came. The building might as well have been abandoned for all the attention it received from the passersby. No one stopped. No lights shone. There was no crowd, no carriages. Nothing.

A single parchment pinned to the door grabbed my attention, but from this vantage point, though it lifted into the wind and a few letters were legible, I couldn't read the announcement, nor discern the image.

I paced, shooing away the crows that gathered as I debated my next move. Rain fell, as it always did, soaking the frayed wedding gown. It took exactly four seconds for me to slice off the bottom half, but it was still restricting and could get me into more trouble than it was worth. Dropping the lower half of my dress below, confident a vagrant would find some use of it, I lowered myself to the familiar, dark seclusion of the cobblestone alleyway.

Avoiding the light cast from dim streetlamps, I hustled toward the theater, snatched the paper, and darted for the nearest alcove. The new king's face stared back at me.

Be it proclaimed with great splendor and regal fervor that on this momentous day, the old gods bear witness to the joyous union of His Royal Highness, the illustrious King Icharius Fern, with the esteemed Death Maiden, Princess Deyanira Sariah Hark.

In celebration of this sacred matrimony, the grand spectacle of Misery's End has been rescheduled to grace the kingdom's revelry.

Today'sshow.

That… prick. Orin had lied. Again. A damn kiss could have broken the bond between us hours ago. He'd proven his point by canceling my marriage and single-handedly ripping my title from me. He'd taken everything and seared the image of me killing my father into so many minds. As the anger stirred, heating my veins, I pushed away from the wall, feeling like I didn't have nearly enough weapons to take on the fucking world. And I certainly wasn't going to do it in a wedding gown.

For a second, I turned, wondering if there was time to go back and kiss a dead man, but perhaps his eternity in the Death Court would be sufficient. The binding to him wouldn't matter, it would only be a golden band around my wrist, a reminder that I was a fool and pretty words had ruined me. And if he was still alive, I hoped the mark burned like hell every time he looked at it.

At this moment, with no home and no money, trapped in godsdamned lace, I had no option but to cross the border to get to the clock tower in Perth. I'd kept troves of weapons in several places throughout the cities. Learning where I could leave valuables the world would never find had been a game when I was a teen. I'd likely lost half my father's wealth playing, but somehow, the value of those items always found their way back. That was the savage cycle of a monarchy. Though the people were poor and haggard, they'd still funnel what little they had back to the overseer. By choice or thievery, it would happen, nonetheless.

The dilapidated temples of the old gods were the safest sanctuary, but there were superstitions and boundaries even I avoided. The stench in the narrow alleys turned my stomach as I delved deeper into their dimly lit recesses. Filth and corrosion clung to every surface. But I stayed in the shadows, navigating the darkest corners despite the repulsive surroundings, fully aware that I'd need boots to jump across the rooftops.

The shredded remains of my dress had nearly stripped away my ability to hide, leaving me exposed in a way that made my skin crawl. I preferred my mask and every weapon I owned. I preferred solitude and the deepest recesses. Especially now, with a scorned king likely hunting me. I avoided eye contact with the destitute souls who huddled in the alleyways, their hollow gazes reflecting the desperation I sought to escape.

I pressed my back to a building as a towering figure hiding beneath a cloak limped by. The second he'd shuffled passed, he paused, as if trying to convince himself he'd just seen Death's harbinger, but when he turned to face me, I'd already rounded the corner, only glancing over my shoulder to catch him scratching his head and continuing on.

Watching the man, I hadn't noticed another until I slammed right into him.

"Watch it," he growled, shoving me to the side.

I ducked, but I wasn't fast enough. Maybe the remnants of poison lingered. He snatched my wrist and yanked, his rancid breath creeping into my nose as he huffed.

"I'd let go if I were you," I warned, snatching Chaos in a swift but effective maneuver, her ruby pressing into my palm.

He released my arm but still loomed too close. I took a step away; he followed as if trying to make out my face through the murky shadows of the alley.

"Whatever you're thinking, it's a really fucking bad idea."

"You have no idea what I'm thinking."

I pressed the blade to the base of his throat. "I've had a shitty day and honestly don't care what it is. You"ve been warned. Anything beyond this moment is a direct result of what you choose to do with that information."

"Maiden," he gasped, but didn't make a move, as if he were stunned.

"You have three seconds to turn and walk away before this blade finds a new home in your esophagus."

"And if?—"

"One."

"You're shorter than?—"

"Two."

He stepped backward, still staring, but I took the window of opportunity and spun, hustling away.

"What's everyone so afraid of?" he yelled.

A drunk man was always more ballsy than a sober one and typically far more stupid. I kept moving beyond the cluster of buildings, block after block, past the pubs, the prostitutes, and the few carriages on the streets. Beyond the Silk Road and to the Hallowed River between the cities.

I expected guards. Hordes of them dressed in green on the Silbath side and purple just beyond the river. But no one patrolled the border. Something was wrong. I backed away, wanting desperately to watch the city from above and see what I could learn. But I was an easy target right now. And if the new king had put a bounty on me for drawing a weapon on him, I could be overpowered. I could be locked away. And that was not an option. So, I steeled my veins, checked over my shoulder once, and ran like hell, passing over the long stone bridge and shooting into the gap between two nearby buildings before turning back. Curiosity forced me to watch, unable to tear myself away from the questions lingering along an unmanned border.

If my father died with no heir, wouldn't Perth, the council… find a replacement, just as Silbath had done when Bram Ellis died? The border had never truly been a roadblock for anyone crossing, but there had always been angry guards on both sides.

Mere blocks from the clock tower, I stopped, swinging a hard left, passing by the Badger Hole, and stepping over the rats to enter the nearby apartment of Thomas Vanhutes. Based on the smell alone, his decaying body must've remained for several days before the gravedigger had come to remove it. But I wasn't here for the memories. Thomas had a long mirror in his hall, and, though it was cracked, it would serve a purpose.

"Ro," I whispered, placing my hand on the reflective surface.

Nothing.

Damnit.

"Seriously, Ro. I need you."

I didn't know if she'd let me stay for long, but surely a few days while I worked out a plan couldn't hurt. She'd know everything going on between the two kingdoms, as she always did, using her mirrors to spy. But it didn't matter because she didn't answer.

I placed my hand on the mirror once more, a plea more than anything. Still, she didn't budge. And, as my only friend, this was as good as it would ever be for me.

"Fine," I scowled, stomping out of the apartment.

The clock tower seemed to have grown an extra twenty feet overnight. With my lack of boots and no trust in the slippers, I'd gone up as far as I could inside the building before tossing them to the side and stepping out onto the ledge of the window barefoot. There were times in my life when this was fun, and times like now, when I'd lost a weapon or needed a change of clothes, and it became impossibly far to climb.

Wind had casually brushed my skin while I was on the ground, but this far up, my dark hair lashed across my face, blinding me. Digging my fingers into the crevices between cracks, bare toes curling for as much grip as they could get, I continued, until I missed a stone, and my feet slipped, leaving me dangling at a dangerous height with sore shoulders, raw feet, and hardly any strength left. Sheer stubborn will was the only thing that saved me as I regained my footing, cursed every old god, and crept to the top, slipping into the wide crack behind the rusted clock face with a huff.

With shifting gears for a floor and crow nests for company, it was not a place for sleeping or shelter, but I'd kept a change of clothing and a box of weapons and jewels hidden beyond a panel on the north side of the exposed space. I changed quickly and loaded myself down with everything I now owned in the world. The gems would be pointless to most of society. But I was no longer hunting the vagrants. I was weak. There was only one woman who could and would pay a decent price. And though I'd have to be careful with each word and agreement, Orin Faber had left me with no choice but to pay a visit to Lady Visha.