Her gaze flicked briefly to the guard by the door—Sebastian, of course.
“I don’t know,” Lottie answered.
Her mother’s face darkened. “I have waited two months for this to be ready. I let all your little lies slide, let Augustushide wherever he’s found refuge in the castle. But this is too important. I will only ask one more time. Where is he?”
“I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know where he is.”
Something must have happened. It was the only explanation. The thought sent a flutter of panic through her. She’d almost lost him once. She watched a stranger wrench him away from their guards, drag him further and further from her while she cried out helplessly for someone to help him.
They had been lucky that night. Why had she been so eager to take him out of the safety of the castle again? He hadn’t wanted to, but she pushed. It was her job to keep him safe.
She was already on her feet, wrapping a shawl around her shoulders when her mother said, “Find him.”
Lottie assumed the order was meant for her. But Sebastian responded.
“Yes,Mo Aesran.”
He stepped forward and purposefully removed one of his gloves, which was strange, but Lottie didn’t wait around to see why. She had to find August.
She bolted past the guard, her skirt billowing behind her as she hurried down the staircase and out into the gardens. It wasn’t until she was outside the castle walls that Lottie realized she didn’t know where he spent his nights out. He didn’t offer many details, and she didn’t press him on it.
She should’ve.
How was she supposed to find him?
She lingered for a moment, thinking through her options. She could go to the City Watch. Order them to help her track him down.
No, that was a terrible idea. Her mother would be livid if word got out that he was missing.
She wrung her hands and searched the street. The sun was low in the sky, and the grand townhomes of the Crestwell Districtwere alive, the nobility buzzing with the energy of the impending evening.
The night market vendors would be setting up soon.
Lottie may not know where August spent his time, but she knew with whom he spent it. And Felix Connolly didn’t seem like the type of boy who went unnoticed.
She could ask around. Someone would know where to find him.
Felix woke to warm golden light spilling across his bed the way it always did when the sun was close to setting. He winced at the brightness, rolling onto his side to cover his face with the pillow.
It was evening. Why was he still sleeping? He’d missed his shift. Why hadn’t his ma woken him? He rolled back over, listening for the hum of patrons, the frantic sounds of an understaffed pub, but found only the sounds of the city pouring in through his open window. Hooves on stone and the chatter of people on the street below.
He dragged himself upright and reached for the metal leg propped neatly beside the bed. After buckling it snugly in place, he pressed the metal foot to the floor, testing it. Something rattled near the joint. With a grimace, he retrieved a small wrench from the drawer and tightened the loose bolt.
His movements were slow, his arms heavy with exhaustion. A throbbing pain pounded inside his skull.
Why did everything hurt?
The memory of the woman with the hatchet filtered through the cotton in his head, followed by the screams and chaos and City Watch.
Oh.
They were attacked. August had saved him by…what in the hellshadhe done? Felix remembered the sudden, unnerving stillness. An impossible, silent void that his brain couldn’t quite process.
Then he remembered that word. The sound of everything he and August had shattering. The lies given shape.
Aesling.
August was royalty. And a wielder. And a filthy, godsdamned liar.
