“This is an order!”
Zira blinked, startled at Vi’s audacity. Vi kept her brow furrowed, lips pursed, and the tension in her muscles the same as when she had been in battle. Zira’s mouth fell open, shock softening her jaw. She closed it with a nod.
Vi released her control of the flames. “Go!”
The Emperor and Empress looked around, dazed. Tiberus blinked several times, no doubt seeing blue from the fire. Fiera was faster to recover, swinging her gaze from Vi to Zira.
“This way.” Zira stepped forward.
If Vi left now, she might have a chance to follow any remaining attackers. It’d be the best opportunity to weed out those who were actively hunting the sword. Vi looked over to the group of royals, nearly at the door.
She wouldn’t leave until they were safely away. Vi tightened her grip around her sword. Zira was still alive. She wasn’t about to see her killed now.
As soon as the door to Fiera’s preparation room closed behind them, however, Vi was off. She raced behind the last of the guests flooding out onto the streets.
“Durroe watt radia,” Vi whispered as she crossed the threshold of the cathedral. When she emerged, it was in a new skin.
Vi swung her head left and right. She decided on the direction where the majority had gone. Moving quickly to catch up with those still fleeing, she listened carefully.
“The new Empress is dead.”
“She’s not dead!”
“They really did it.”
“The Knights actually did it. He pulled it off.”
“He didn’t pull off anything. That was an utter failure.”
Vi spun in place, trying to locate the speakers. She slowed her pace to a walk.
“What do you think they’ll do next?”
“They can’t accomplish anything without the sword.”
Two men were walking into a bar not far from her. Vi stepped lightly behind them, trusting her Lightspinning to prevent them from identifying her.
“I think I know a way they could get it.”
“Shh, you idiot, not on the streets.” The taller of the two men glanced over his shoulder, but his eyes swept over Vi as they hastily entered the bar.
She was quick behind them.
“… him at the warehouse. I think the next meeting is—” Vi caught the last of what the tall man was saying as she entered.
“Excuse me, miss, we’re closed for the day,” the barkeep interrupted abruptly. The two men startled and looked directly at Vi—but what they saw was the face of a random woman who attended the wedding. A woman who, blessedly, neither of them recognized.
“I’m sorry.” Vi put on a thick Western accent. “I got separated from my companions, I didn’t know if they’d come in here.”
“They’re certainly not in here. Closed to mourn the tragedy at our princess’s wedding. Out with you,” the barkeep barked.
Mourn? Or conduct private business? Vi looked between the groups of men, but merely gave a sweet, innocuous smile. “I’m sorry for interrupting.”
With that, Vi left.
The streets were mostly empty as she trudged back to the cathedral. When she ascended the stairs once more, it was as a woman the world knew only as Yullia.
“Using your spinning to conceal yourself like that is clever.” Deneya leaned on a column by the doors, arms folded. “You have other tricks for the words?”
