I remembered how it felt to fly across the Old Quarter’s rooftops. And to fight the Wolves who now patrolled in the daylight.
We passed the Market Quarter, which no longer smelled like the sticky bread I used to get with Ruru. The colorful awnings flapped in the breeze like a flock of restless birds.
The Noble Quarter gate was more heavily guarded, but they let us through without a word.
Hope sprang in my chest when I sawThe Silk Dancer,still bright and untarnished. Was Melaena in there now? Would she hear of my return before I could meet with her? Would she be glad I was still alive or angry about what I’d done?
One of the guards shoved me hard in the back, forcing me to pick up my pace.
No nobles strolled through the streets of this quarter, either. Even though the fountains were still running and the gardens remained manicured, there was no one to enjoy them. Except the guards posted at every corner.
Then Garyth’s mansion came into view. I winced at seeing the shattered windows and smashed door. A rotten tooth in agleaming smile. Renwell had probably left Garyth’s mansion like this as a message to his neighbors.
Everyone was hiding. Except me.
My escort tightened around me as we neared the bridge. We squeezed past another dozen guards at the bridge gate.
I could barely see the bridge as we walked over it. Just the guards at my side and the palace ahead of me.
The thundering waterfall washed out the sound of my heart drumming in my ears. I had no time to fear traversing its fury with something worse waiting for me inside those walls.
The soldiers marched me up the stone steps, through the double doors of the palace, and into the familiar throne room. It hadn’t changed since the last time I was here. But now there was a different monster on the gold throne.
Renwell sat alone, an impassive look on his darkly bearded face. But I knew from the calculating gleam in his eyes that a messenger must’ve told him I was coming. He’d wanted me to see him like this—casually lounging on the throne, the Rellmiran crown on his gray-streaked dark hair.
He wore a finely tailored tunic belted over trimmed pants. A heavy velvet cloak rested on his shoulders. All black with a few threads of gold and purple, as if the darkness had almost swallowed Rellmira’s colors.
I was so used to him hovering in the wings in his austere, hooded cloak, forever a fleeting shadow. But somehow, he looked just as comfortable playing at the role of king. Yet his boots were scuffed as always, as if he couldn’t give up all his ways despite his stolen status.
A smirk slowly grew under his gaunt cheeks as I drew closer on the black-and-white marble floor.
He waved off the guards as if fully confident he didn’t need them. Mother’s knife rubbed on my ankle inside my boot. I couldstill kill him if he tried to kill me. The way he’d done to Asher the last time we’d been in this throne room together.
Once we were alone, Renwell rose to his feet, towering over me on the black marble dais.
My body screamed at me to take a step back, to snatch my knife. But I didn’t. I stiffened my spine and lifted my chin to meet his dark gaze.
“Welcome home,” he said.
My eyes narrowed. What game was he playing now?
His eyes drifted to the scar on my cheek. An emotion I didn’t understand flickered over his face.
“Where are Everett and Delysia?” I demanded, my voice filling the huge, domed space like a bell.
He smiled smugly, as if he knew this would be my first question. “I’ll take you to them.”
Fear bled my courage. Was he keeping them in the palace dungeon?
He descended the dais and walked through the northern doors. I hurried after him.
“My soldiers found Korvin’s body at a checkpoint on the Medria River,” Renwell said calmly, striding through the golden hallways.
I almost stumbled, but then anger snapped to the surface. “You mean yourbrother’sbody?”
Renwell raised an eyebrow at me. “Nikella told you, did she? I’m guessing she was the one who killed him. Spear wound, they said. How is my little sister faring now that she’s destroyed her childhood tormentor?”
I came to a sharp stop, my boots squeaking on the glossy floor. “She’s dead.”
