Asher sighs. He flicks his eyes at the ceiling. “Sometimes it’s easier to be a shadow.”
I frown, but Ky has reached a large, ornate steel door, and he pushes through.
Cool air finds my cheeks and lifts my hair, and I realize we’re outside. Well...sort of. The clear sky stretches overhead, and we’ve reached that point of twilight where stars have begun to twinkle to the east, while the last bit of sunlight still glows above the horizon in the west. The moon has risen, hanging just above the mountains, which tower above us.
But we’re still clearly in a room—or perhaps a low-walled courtyard, because there’s no ceiling. Intricate metalwork is on display here, too, spires and twists stretching along the wall, reaching high into the air. Flowering vines would be stunning in this room, but I wonder if the drought prevents them from growing. The floor is marble, gleamingin the moonlight, and a dozen massive square pools stretch in two rows, leading away from us. The water in each is tranquil, reflecting the stars above, creating a fascinating illusion that the sky has been captured in twelve distinct frames.
“The Hall of Stars,” says Asher.
Ky looks at him. “Yes,” he says, and he seems pleased.
Then he sketches a sigil, and light flares. As he did in the hallway to my chambers, he touches his hand to the wall, and the flame catches, racing along the stone. It streaks all the way around the room, coming back to where we stand at the entrance, brightening the space. But as I watch, the ring of fire does not remain along the wall. There are other, narrower paths, and flame crawls more slowly along the iron artistry, until all of it is lit and glowing. Fire has also followed a dozen small trails to light up glass stones below these pools, similar to the basin in my washroom. The entire space begins to glow and flicker, from the marble to the iron to the water itself, but the reflection of the sky never shimmers, never changes.
“Oh,” I breathe, because words don’t seem powerful enough to capture it. We have nothing like this in Astranza—and now that I’ve seen it, I never want to leave.
“I hate most of the palace,” Ky says. “But I do love it here.”
That gets my attention. “You hate the palace?”
He nods, as if that explains everything. “Come. Sit. You can ask your questions, Princess.”
He leads me to the middle of the room, where there are stone benches and wooden tables. Some are lined with plush cushions, while others are bare. The Hall of Stars is clean—pristine even—so I can tell it’s well cared-for, but the bleakness of the entire palace is shocking to me. In Astranza, a space like this would never be empty. The fires would never go cold.
Ky gestures to one of the cushioned benches, and I sit. Asher drops beside me, and I’m startled when his thigh brushes mine. The king looks down at us both for a long moment, then turns one of the wooden chairs to face us, and sits himself.
All of a sudden, I’m reminded of the morning we met. We sat just like this, and I had a hairpin clutched under my knuckles. He disarmed.
We spoke honestly—or so I thought.
“I would like to begin anew,” I say, feeding him the exact words he said to me that morning.
As usual, his eyes spark with cunning, and maybe a little appreciation. But it’s only for a moment, and then they turn sad. “I don’t think that’s possible at this point, Princess.”
The word has never put distance between us, but just now, it seems to. “Jory,” I say softly.
“Jory,” he concedes.
Silence builds between us for a long moment, and I begin to realize Asher was right. The king can only set the field as an adversary. As if we were preparing for battle. As if this were truly an interrogation. Maybethat’swhy he keeps saying I’m formidable. Maybe he doesn’t know any other way.
Very well, then.
“Why didn’t you tell me about your sister?” I say.
His mouth twists, and he glances away. “Victoria is...well. You only saw her for a moment, and perhaps a moment was enough. In many ways, she seems to have the mind of a child—though she’snot. That said, she can be easy to manipulate, easy to control. It would take nothing for someone with bad intentions to use her against me—or in place of me.” He pauses. “She has always been kept very secluded, with private caretakers. When necessary, I can present her at court, for brief periods.” Another pause. “She’s very direct, and often quite lucid. She appears aloof, not addled. Very few people know the truth.”
I study him. “What happened to her?”
He takes a long breath. “I don’t know for certain. I was young when she was born. Our mother did not survive it. The baby was...very small. Very weak. They told my father she would likely not last the season. So he took me to the battlefield, and left her with a wet nurse.”
“He left your sister todie?” I say.
“And he took you towar,” says Asher.
Ky’s frown deepens. “Again—I was young. I don’t know every thought that crossed his mind.” His voice sharpens a bit. “But his wife was dead, his daughter was close, and he had a son left with no mother. So yes, he took me with him.”
I understand the sharpness in his voice—because I feel the same thing. “My mother died, too,” I say quietly.
“And mine,” says Asher.
