Vaasa pulled herself up, clutching the blankets to her chest. “I snuck out with my lead sentinel,” she proclaimed. “It wouldn’t be difficult for him to erase those records, would it?”
Ozik snorted. He uncrossed his arms. “Really, Vaasalisa, if you’re going to commit cold-blooded murder, you should do so with a less scandalous alibi.”
Vaasa’s wide-eyed frown was the picture of shock. “What?”
Ozik tilted his head, assessing her. “You look genuinely surprised. Is it a ruse? I can never tell with you, I taught you so well.”
“What are you talking about?” Vaasa demanded, rising to her knees and then to her feet. Fatigue racked her, but she pushed through it, clinging to her performance.
“Lord Vlacik was thrown out of a fifth-story window last night,” he told her. “At The Lady Fortune.”
The sight of his body crumpled on cobblestone would follow her for years, both a daydream and a nightmare. Her lips parted, then snapped shut. She raked a hand through her tangled hair. “He’s dead?”
“Obviously.”
“I had nothing to do with it,” she said, pushing Reid’s face from her mind.
Sarcasm coated his tone. “You seem positively bereft, though.”
“Am I meant to mourn a monster?”
“Even monsters have funerals.”
Vaasa stared at him, unsure of what to make of all these tidbits of seemingly useless wisdom. “Please don’t harm Amalie,” Vaasa said instead. “I’ll come with you now to train.”
But Ozik shook his head. “It’s all right, given we’re celebrating.”
She arched a brow. “Celebrating?”
“The only high-ranking noble with knowledge of our magic is dead. You might have been forced to marry him if he’d gone to extremes to win your hand. So put on mourning garments, hang your head in solemn prayer at the Citadel, and then tell the people we are going to discover who did this. And tomorrow, we will breathe easier.”
Vaasa almost gawked. Ozik hadwantedVlacik to die? Suddenly, she didn’t think her alibi mattered at all to him. “Are we actually going to try and find out who did this?”
Ozik only shrugged. “If someone’s imprisonment is convenient.”
The next person to challenge them would find themselves guilty of a murder, then.
He walked to the door, his voice threading the air. “And anyway, everyone at The Lady Fortune wears masks, so how could we ever be sure? We only know one detail about the killer.” Ozik turned to face her, his hand on the door. “They were wearing a sentinel’s jacket.”
It took every ounce of Vaasa’s self-control to maintain her composure and keep her breathing even. Would she cause Roman’s death once more?
As he opened the door, Ozik said, “We leave for the Citadel in twenty minutes. Mourning garments.”
“You’re in Asteryan blue,” Vaasa replied.
He grinned and repeated her words, voice smooth as silk. “Am I meant to mourn a monster?”
Thick snow crunched beneath Vaasa’s feet as she walked into the center of the city square, the Sanctum on one side of her, the Citadel on the other. She stood just in front of the iron pole at the center.
The clock tower on the Citadel chimed noon.
Nobles and merchants and workers all surrounded the platform she stood upon. Sentinels covered every inch of the square, eyes scanning the crowds while Vaasa and Ozik addressed the people. She rambled on, honoring the service Lord Vlacik gave to Asterya, speaking on the security of the city. Some listened, others were clearly waiting for Ozik to speak. It wasn’t uncommon for him to deliver addresses on the throne’s behalf; he was their closest advisor and served on their council, after all. He quickly took over, but Vaasa remained where she stood in a foolish attempt to make herself seem less like a figurehead.
When he finished, they stepped off the platform and marched into the Sanctum, the nobles following. Vaasa scanned the crowd, sighting Lord Karev in the madness. His inky hair had gathered small flakes of snow in the places it burst from his fur hat. He was deep in conversation with someone. She veered from the throne room and started up the stairs in what she knew looked like an effort to avoid him. She passed Roman, cresting the top without looking back.
“Heiress,” Lord Karev called. “A word?”
Vaasa looked over her shoulder, finding the lord already most of the way up the staircase. “Let him pass,” she said to Roman.
