Roman’s jaw clenched for only a moment, but he didn’t challenge her. Instead, he walked away quickly, like none of it mattered to him. Likeshedidn’t matter to him. It was a fair, even appropriate, response. Still, it stung somewhere deep within her chest. This was precisely what their world would have been—them only knowing each other intimately under the cover of night, having to pretend that they didn’t matter to each other when other people looked on. It was momentarily infuriating, how seamlessly that same potential future had found her.
Vaasa followed Lord Karev up the rest of the steps and into the theater. Yet the moment they entered, he veered left, away from the stunning chandelier and the three levels bustling with people. They trailed around the main corridor until they came upon a servants’ hallway that had a guard standing in front of it, though once again, he was less at attention, less disciplined, than she remembered the city guard to be. As they approached, the guard gawked at her presence—a gesture entirely out of character. Quickly, he sketched a bow.
Beside her, Lord Karev remained tense, keeping watch on the sentinel. He kept his posture closed, controlled.
Either Lord Karev didn’t trust the city guard, or this sentinel wasn’t who he pretended to be. Without another word, he opened the door he stood in front of, revealing one of the many servants’ passages built into the theater. Every building the nobles frequented had been designed with these small corridors. Vaasa watched each step Lord Karev took as they descended into the dark, dingy hallway. When they arrived at a staircase that would lead to what Vaasa assumed was the basement, she stopped hesitantly at the top. “Where are we going, Lord Karev?” She peered down the shadowy descent, her stomach turning.
Karev grinned as he placed one foot on the first step. “Do you need a sentinel to protect you, Heiress, or will a lord do?”
It was a strange mixture of flirtation and condescension, though Vaasa knew enough of men to know she needed to look charmed. It was once again difficult to ignore how blatantly perfect he might have been for her so many years ago. Bold, scheming, witty. In another life, this man would have driven Dominik to the point of insanity.
With a rebellious little smirk, she gestured for him to go on. “I suppose a lord will do.”
They climbed down the stairs into what she realized were likely storage spaces. Costumes, candelabras, and other props littered the room. Yet, the raucous sounds of laughter floated through the walls. The clamor grew louder with each step. Before long, they arrived at yet another door, which was guarded by a different sentinel. This time, the guard didn’t speak to them; he simply opened the door.
Loud cheering and the banging of fists on wood echoed around a large crowd. Eerie yellow light emanated from the enormous basement that Vaasa hadn’t even known was there. People stood on all available sides of the room in a horseshoe, their loud screams pointed at a lifted platform in the center.
Upon that platform, two men, both with chains on their wrists, dove at each other. Vaasa almost gasped as she watched them swing fists and elbows. They tumbled to the ground and spun, swinging punches, blood spewing. It was disorganized fighting at best, like a street brawl between boys. And onewasa boy—red hair, no older than sixteen.
Beside the platform, even the guards remained absorbed in the fight. They congregated together, no formal positions around the room. Who had trained these men?
Vaasa gazed around and watched as men exchanged coin while their wives or other escorts whispered under the hush of the crowd.
“They’re betting on the outcome,” she said quietly.
Lord Karev nodded. “They’re prisoners, Heiress. The ones who win tend to live longer than the others. From what I hear, their cells are more comfortable, too.”
Nausea immediately swept over Vaasa. It was an underground fighting ring. “Who is responsible for this?”
Lord Karev gestured with his head to a group of people standing on the opposite side of the room. Within it were a few merchants or other nobles, but Vaasa recognized the warden of the prison. She froze. Beside him, the two high-ranking sentinels who had played an active role in her torture stood there casually, as if they were guests instead of on duty.
And in the center of the crowd, Lord Vlacik.
Vaasa tried to keep her composure, swallowing against the feeling of bile rising in her throat. “The city guard. They work for Lord Vlacik.”
Karev flicked his gaze to her, looking smugly impressed. “You’re quick, aren’t you? Those aren’t guards at all, though.”
Anxiety kept its chokehold on her, but Vaasa forced herself to tear her eyes from Vlacik and instead look up at Karev. “Who are they, then?”
Karev leaned forward with his gray eyes glimmering. His voice caressed her ear. “They’re pirates, Heiress. Your entire city is infested with them.”
“How?” Vaasa hissed.
He remained close to her, his words still a conspiratorial whisper, and she paid attention to every twitch of his body. Every movement. “Because the infamous Captain Sutherland is deep in Vlacik’s pocket. No one has seen the pirate in months, but his crews have infiltrated the prison, and thanks to your brother, the city guard. They are high-ranked officers now, hardly distinguishable from the men who rightfully earned their status.”
Vaasa contorted her face into a smile as if Karev had just told her a joke. Anything to make it seem that their closeness was a flirtation, not gossip. But she knew of Captain Sutherland and his empire on the sea; he was a pest her father hadn’t been able to quash, or perhaps he’d never felt it worth the resources. Sutherland’s name had only begun to circulate a few years ago, as if he’d just popped up out of nowhere.
Too long had passed between the lord’s words and Vaasa’s reaction. Karev offered his arm to her, picking up on her intention to seem as though they discussed something else. She took it, once again pulling close so their sides pressed together. “This started under my brother’s reign?” she asked on a whisper.
“Your brother was content to allow Vlacik more power,” he told her. “To give his council positions, and the greatest exemptions and trade opportunities to the Old Asteryans. Beneath this theater, he made Lord Vlacik quite a lot of money.”
Dominik’s connection to Vlacik unfolded in Vaasa’s mind, made more complicated by the torture they had been conducting in the prisons. To allow Vlacik that close to the throne had been a mistake that was so unlike Dominik. He had always consolidated power, not given it away. Her brother must have desiredknowledge of magic more than just about anything else. But why? Was it because he’d wanted to wield that magic himself, or was it something more desperate than a race for power? He’d found the necklace their mother had left Vaasa and chosen not to deliver it to her. He’d needed it, then, or felt threatened by the idea of Vaasa having it. The necklace meant something,didsomething. And it seemed like Ozik was guiding her in that same direction—like he wanted her to find the necklace.
Then it occurred to her that perhaps Dominik hadn’t just hidden the necklace from Vaasa. Maybe he’d been hiding it from Ozik, too.
Vaasa fought the urge to close her eyes, if only to avoid having to see her brother’s sharp features behind her lids. Another stark reminder that the line between who she wanted her family to be and who they actually were really was sharper than she thought. “Doyoubet on this?” she asked.
Lord Karev merely shrugged. “From time to time. But pick any noble from our dinner the other night, and you’ll find the same answer. This is how Lord Vlacik keeps his foothold now that his father is dead. Plenty of families are indebted to the Vlaciks. His connection to Sutherland on the seas and his infiltration of the prison and city guard have made him the most powerful man in Mekës.”
