“Jory,” Asher says again, his voice a bit sharper, a bit louder. People on the ground look up, and even Lady Charlotte inhales sharply, like she can’t believe he’d dare.
Jory whips her head in his direction, and I can feel more than see her fury.
But then his voice softens. “He’s had enough,” Asher says. “Leave him be.”
I don’t expect her to listen. But maybe she sees something in his face. Maybe she sees something in mine.
Either way, her mouth clamps shut. Her eyes face forward.
And then we turn a corner, and I’m home.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The Assassin
Igrew up in the royal palace in the heart of Astranza, and when I was a child, every hallway seemed magical. The marble gleamed, the tapestries were vibrant, and there were hints of wealth and privilege everywhere, right down to the veins of silver embedded in the doorframes. Gray and white stones could be found everywhere, with wooden beams crisscrossing every ceiling in artful patterns. Even after I was exiled, I still thought it was the most beautiful building ever constructed. Once I was hired by the Hunter’s Guild, I had occasion to visit very fine estates, some of which were so grand that I almost didn’t dare to break into them, but nothing ever came close to my childhood home.
Until now.
The Incendrian Palace is taller than any building I’ve ever seen, easily ten stories high at the center—and once we get inside, I realize that’s just the atrium. From the outside, the stonework is heavy and dark, which made me think the interior would be gloomy, but the room is wide and airy, with plenty of light. The ceiling of the center atrium is lined with stained glass that throws blue and yellow shadows across the floor. As we climbed into Lastalorre from the valley, it didn’t seem so high, but that was clearly an illusion, a massive building dwarfed by the surrounding mountains. There’s a part of me that wants to stare like a boy.
The king mentioned ironwork throughout the palace, and he almost understated it. Steel and iron areeverywhere. Stunning patterns line the stone walls: every archway, every window, even the floor in spots. I should be reveling in the architecture, but I’ve spent so long as an assassin that my brain is sketching out places to hide, the paths to climb to the ceiling, and at least three ways to escape.
I expected the palace to be packed with people: courtiers and servantsand guards and all the people who want to cling to royalty. Astranza’s court can be downright stifling.
But the palace here is...not. It seems to be nearly deserted, with few guards and fewer servants.
“I was not expected back so soon,” Ky explains to us, as the soldiers take the horses to the stables. Not even Captain Zale has accompanied the king into the palace proper. “I will show you to some rooms so you can rest.”
His voice is cold, formal, and I don’t think he’s made eye contact with Jory since she started going after him as we rode through the city. I don’t think he’s made eye contact with anyone. She still seems furious, so maybe she hasn’t noticed. Maybe she doesn’twantto notice.
Ky leads us down a narrow hallway, and every door we pass is lined with iron in a winding pattern. We stop near the end, and he sketches a sigil to light a torch on the wall. To my surprise, it’s notjusta torch—once lit, the fire continues on a path down the entire wall, seeming to disappear behind each door and into the rooms beyond. The hallway is suddenly thrown into vivid, flickering light, and the magic would likely be awe-inspiring on any other day.
But Jory stares at the trail of flame for a moment too long, then frowns.
I wonder if she’s thinking about the accusations from the Incendrian citizens.
Either way, the king notices, because his shoulders droop. This time, when he speaks, his voice is sad. “You can have this wing, Princess. I will have food sent. The fire will warm your rooms, as well as the washbasins beyond.” He hesitates. “Forgive me if you find it displeasing.”
Jory opens her mouth, then closes it. Her lips form a line.
The king looks to me. “Asher. I will take you to—”
“No.” Jory steps in front of me. “He will stay inthiswing. With me.”
His gaze turns flinty. “Fine. I will return at sundown.Do notexplore.”
Then he turns away, and he doesn’t say another word.
Jory turns away, and she doesn’t either.
Lady Charlotte looks between us all, then follows the princess.
Fine.
I pick a room and lose myself inside it.
I expect elegance, but it’s better. Six people could share the bed, and a set of doors twice my height leads to a terrace that overlooks the mountains. Astranza may be stunning in the summertime, but right now, Incendar wins the view. At the far side of the sleeping quarters is a washroom that’s double the size of the apartment I once rented in Perriden. The trail of fire from the hallway ran the length of the wall in my bedroom, and it stretches into the washroom as well. The fire ends in a pile of glass stones under a wide steel basin that’s more of a pool than a bathtub. I pull a chain and water flows. My eyebrows go up. Within minutes, water reaches the top. I touch my hand to the surface, and thanks to the glowing glass stones underneath, it’s already lukewarm.
