‘The barkeep was the only one they’d allowed in the back room. All it took was getting him in the right frame of mind and causing a diversion.’
Will barked a laugh. ‘So you beguiled him with your beauty,persuaded him to spill all his secrets, then destroyed his bar.’ He glanced at her beer- and blood-stained clothes. ‘Incredible.’
‘You’re insufferable.’
‘So I’ve been told. The feeling is mutual, Aya love.’
Because three years of working side by side in the Queen’s Tría – the rank reserved for the Crown’s three most trusted Dyminara – wasn’t enough to thaw the bitterness between them.
She ignored him, choosing instead to focus on the approaching palace. The Quarter sat at the back of the Queen’s Royal Grounds, which were nestled in the woodlands higher in the mountains, above the town.
‘I suppose I’ll have to pay Ronan a visit after I finish with the tradesmen,’ Will sighed.
Aya raised a brow as they passed through the iron palace gates and kept to the rocky path lined with towering pines that would bring them to the Quarter. ‘Whyaren’tyou on your way to the warehouse?’
Will smirked. ‘I told you, I have a bed to warm.’ He laughed at the disgust on her face. ‘Gods, thatlook. Relax, would you? I want to get changed.’ He waved a hand at his double-breasted coat and black pants. ‘I hate this noble garb.’
She considered telling him that of all the things for him to detest about himself, his clothes surely had to be the least important. But she refrained as they trudged past the stables, following the bend until the path opened into a large clearing, the Quarter nestled in its center.
It was far smaller than the queen’s palace but still magnificent, with its gray stone facade, its stained-glass windows winking from the light inside.
They hurried through the arch that divided the Dyminara’s grounds from the queen’s and made their way up the winding path to the outer halls that rimmed the intricategardens. The white winter roses were just visible in the light from the torches that continued to burn in their sconces, no doubt in thanks to the Incends, whose flame could battle the Ventaleh.
They pushed through the large oak doors and stepped into the main hall. Though the space was large, its stone walls stretching high toward the arched wooden ceiling, it still felt warm. Welcoming. A rich crimson rug covered the center of the stone floor, a long wooden table atop of it. To the right sat the worn wooden doors that led to the dining room, and to the left was a massive stone fireplace, its hearth still flickering with dying flames.
It was to the fireplace that Aya rushed, thrusting her hands toward the embers for warmth. A glance back at the table had her frowning. The chaucholda had been thoroughly drained.
‘Any bystanders from the Squal we need to be wary of?’ Will asked as he came to stand next to her.
Aya repressed a snort, thinking of the chaos the bar had dissolved into. ‘No. If anyonewaspaying attention, they likely would have thought it was Mathias’ guild wreaking havoc.’
Mathias kept an iron grip on the underbelly of Dunmeaden. His thieves and assassins were notorious. It was a blessing the queen hadn’t removed them from the city. They made it easier to deflect a certain type of attention from the Crown.
‘And I took care of their guards,’ she added.
The words brought a wave of exhaustion with them.
Aya was no stranger to violence. Visya were called by the gods to protect and serve the realm and the humans that occupied it, and the Dyminara were the truest manifestation of that will. Not all Visya served in this way, but Aya … she wasmade to be this, in more ways than just one. But she didn’t delight in those moments that required her to end a life. Perhaps she simply didn’t care for the memories they evoked.
Will’s eyes stayed fixed on her hands, tracing the blood just as he had in the alley. ‘You were acting in the name of our kingdom,’ he finally said quietly.
She felt it then, his affinity whispering against her, sensing the heaviness beneath the surface. ‘I don’t need your grace,’ she muttered. ‘So stay out of my head.’
He raised a brow. ‘Simply wondering what has such a frown marring that lovely face. Besides … your guilt makes you vulnerable. It’s when your shield is weakest. I learned that a long time ago.’
‘My guilt means I haven’t turned into a monster.’
Another lie in an ever-growing list.
Will bristled, a muscle flickering in his broad jaw. ‘Like me,’ he finished coolly. ‘If you’re going to insult me, Aya, at least have the courtesy to see it through.’
She was too spent to argue with him, her exhaustion pressing even more heavily as the warmth from the fire seeped into her bones. She needed sleep, especially before meeting with the queen.
‘We meet just after dawn,’ Aya murmured. ‘Try to find out something useful between now and then. And watch your back. You’re going to get yourself killed strutting down the street like that.’
Will’s eyes danced in the firelight, the flames illuminating the flecks of green scattered through the gray of his irises. He tilted his head as he considered her, strands of his hair sweeping across his forehead with the movement. ‘If I didn’t know any better, Aya love, I’d say you actually care.’
‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ she retorted. If anything, hisexistence was a constant reminder of the merchant entitlement she loathed. But even Aya couldn’t deny Will’s power and cunning would be useful if conflict was unfolding with Trahir. Both in council meetings and, godsforbid, on the battlefield. ‘It’s Tala I’m thinking of. If this situation worsens, we won’t have time to replace you.’
