His grin widens. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“While you go off to First Kingdom to make this deal, I need someone to be my eyes and ears in Sixth. I want to see what Queen Kaila is doing.”
“I can go,” Lu volunteers.
I give her a nod of thanks before my eyes track to Osrik. “Can you pull some of our best soldiers to watch the borders?”
“Of course.”
“The first sign of anyone approaching, I want to know about it,” I say.
“You gonna go all King Rot on their asses?” Judd asks, rubbing his hands together like the idea thrills him.
I give a slow nod. “If they push me, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”
CHAPTER 55
AUREN
I’ve been practicing my magic.
This morning I was in the bedroom, plating the pillars, practicing making the gold reach up in swirling patterns and then sinking back into my skin. I’m getting better and better at it, and there’s some pride in that, which is something I’ve never been able to have when it came to my magic. It’s a quiet thing, soaking through my spirit and reinforcing the changes I’m trying to make, the confidence I’m trying to build.
After a couple hours, I decided to go outdoors to get some fresh air. I spotted the gardens from the roof, and now that I’m here, I think it might be my new favorite place. It’s protected by a high ashen wall on the east side of the castle, so it feels private, especially with the mountain standing watch just beyond.
There seems to be only one guard that passes by on his rounds about every thirty minutes. Even so, I’m careful, which is why I like this little spot, where I’m mostly obscured by the shrubs. Since the rumors about me stealing Midas’s gold are so fresh and rampant, the last thing I want to do is make a spectacle of myself or give anyone cause to fear me.
Plus, I like working out in the sunlight.
There are divots of glass stonework in the grass, like flat blue marbles bigger than my foot and spread a step apart. They trail from the doorway, past the first row of flowers, curve with the twisting turns around the bushes, and lead past the walls of shrubs all the way to the very center of the garden where there’s a fountain and a wrought iron bench.
Though the ironwork is pretty, the bench isn’t the most comfortable, so I sit on the grass instead. With my back against the base of the onyx fountain, I work with my gold, experimenting with different textures. I ball it up like dough, roll it around in my hand, and then liquefy the pliable sphere.
Slade’s been busy with his Premiers, with his Wrath, and with his army, so I’ve been trying to use all my spare time to work on my magic. Meanwhile, Digby has taken on helping me with the physical training part of it, since Judd has been busy and is set to leave on a mission for Slade. Digby doesn’t do anything physical since he’s still healing, but he instructs me on my stances, helps me run through strengthening drills, and has taught me a few blocks.
I haven’t even had Slade alone for more than a few minutes at a time since our ride in the carriage. I can’t truly comprehend even a sliver of the amount of responsibilities he has as a king, but I can tell that he handles things much differently than Midas.
The biggest difference for me personally though, is that he tells me all about what he’s doing. He keeps me involved. Answers my questions. Encourages them, even. It’s strange to get used to.
But tomorrow, he’s supposed to give Manu his final answer. Already, the mandatory rationing has been put into effect. Even here in the castle, where Digby and I have been sharing meals alone together, there’s smaller portions, simple ingredients. But even with these segmented servings, my stomach still churns with guilt, and I try to leave more behind to be saved.
Every night this past week, I’ve woken up in a cold sweat, my nightmares returned. Sometimes, the dreams are about the shanties, of the frozen poverty kept in the crooked cracks of Highbell.
Other times, it’s my ribbons.
The sound of the sword swinging down. The slice of agony as it tore through me, silken limb by silken limb. I dream about falling, without any ribbons to catch me.
But last night, my nightmare changed. It wasn’t Highbell I was seeing, but Brackhill. The same streets I rode down with Slade, except the people were crying. Bone-thin. Rabid with starvation. And Queen Kaila stood at the other end of the street, my voice caught around her like a babbling breeze that only she could control.
That dream stayed with me all throughout breakfast, turning my stomach sour. It stayed with me during training with Digby until he crossed his arms and told me we were done for the day because I was too distracted.
Now, it’s still clutching at me, tugging at my shoulders like an incessant beggar.
I feel like I need to do something, but Slade won’t hear of it. The few scraps of moments I’ve gotten with him are spent with his insistence that everything is going to be fine. That his plans will work and the rationing and extra food production will be effective.
But what if it’s not?
I press my fingers over the bracelet he gave me. It now shines solid gold, though I kept the black gemstone in the center and braided a chain of gilded pattern around it.
