Have these Yakimians lived this life so long they don’t know to fight back? Where are the people who don’t acceptthis fate? Those have to be kept away from newcomers, so as not to spoil the illusion of pleasure. So anyone who visits sees the same fake perfection that made Spring keep its Winterian work camps inland, away from its interactions with the outside world.
That’s it. That’s all I can handle.
I whirl away from Simon, still wound around Theron’s neck, and dive for the door, at the end of the long hall lined by the other alcoves. My guards follow, and I can’t help but think they all sigh with relief to be leaving.
Ceridwen leans against the door, her arms folded and her eyes pinched. How long has she been standing there, watching her brother’s spectacle unfold?
A Summerian slave appears beside her, whispers something in her ear. By the time I reach her, she shoves off the wall.
“Forgive her, brother,” Ceridwen calls back down the hall. “She complained of the heat last night—our climate is a bit harsh for Winterians, you know.”
I don’t look back, and honestly, I’d run right out of the brothel if Ceridwen didn’t catch my arm and hold me in place. From behind me, Simon chirps.
“Cerie!” Rustling, a solid bump as he slams into the wall beside his alcove at the end of the hall. “I thought you weren’t yet back. You must come tonight as well! I miss you, sister.”
Is he still drunk? The expression on Ceridwen’s face makes it hard to tell whether or not he’s sincere. She doesn’t say a word, letting the silence stretch until Simon regains himself.
“But, yes, take a moment, Winter queen! Get some air.”
A growl ruptures in my throat, and Ceridwen angles her head at me.
“Don’t be stupid,” she hisses.
I rip out of her hold. “You have no idea what—”
“I don’t?” Her lips tighten and her voice dips lower than a whisper. “No, you’re right. It’s not like I’ve lived here for nineteen years. I have no idea what my kingdom is like. For instance, I haveno ideathat if you visibly act out against my brother, he’ll retaliate. Unless you want him to start forcibly taking slaves from Winter, don’t let him know you despise him.”
“What?” All air drops out of my lungs. “He wouldn’t dare.”
Ceridwen snorts. “And what’s to stop him? A few years back, King Caspar reacted to my brother as you did. Storming off, opposing him outright. Weeks later, I found a group of Autumnians forcibly put in a slave house south of Juli. So, I reiterate,don’t be stupid.”
I stagger, muscles coiling. “Did Caspar find out?”
This building feels too open yet too small all at once, and I have no idea if Simon can hear us. I glance back, briefly, to see him and Theron in conversation by the alcove.Theron dips his eyes to me once and offers a small smile.
He’s distracting Simon.
My chest cools, gratitude nudging away some of the hurt I still feel toward Theron.
Ceridwen draws my attention back. “They were freed soon after,” she says, neither confirming nor denying that she was the one to free them. “But those whom Summer brands don’t have much of a life afterward. Don’t risk your people. Tolerate my brother—put up with his antics.”
I pause next to her, forcing my brain to process her words through this stupid heat, through my hatred of Simon, through my desire to tear out of this brothel and flee back to Winter.
She’s right, though. I do need to put up with his antics—for now. Didn’t I just wonder if this place holds any clue toward the Order or the key? I can’t leave. Not yet, anyway.
My stomach roils with nausea and I keep my focus on the light gleaming through the front door as I raise my voice. “When I return, King Simon, I’d like a tour of this . . .” I can’t say it. “Establishment.”
So I can scour every surface for clues from the Order of the Lustrate andthenrun away.
Simon cheers behind me. “Excellent! Of course!”
I deflate. Ceridwen smiles, a small flicker of approval.
My face pinches and my voice drops again. “Why are you helping me?”
Her eyes flick to the slave who had spoken to her,hovering outside the brothel. He nods and ducks out of the courtyard, into the street.
“As my brother said, Queen Meira,” she says, edging toward the door. “Solidarity.”
