Settling on Athena’s back, I smoothed out my skirt as Eleos mounted behind me. Athena trotted into the street, carrying us to the palace.
I leaned back against his chest and felt my skin touch his. Thinking even asinglesexual thought about Eleos felt wrong, and I leaned forward, trying to scrub the notion from my mind.
Twisting in the saddle, I looked up at him. “I saw Ainwir again, in the fort. What do you think he is? A ghost?”
“I don’t know,” Eleos admitted. “Phaedrus did say he might bealive. Maybe it’s really him.”
“This shade always leads me into danger. Ainwir wouldn’t . . .” I trailed off.
Maybe I was wrong. The first time I’d seen Ainwir, Seth and I had learned Aeacus was in the city. Upon the second, I’d spotted an insurgency member. And the third had led to Aeacus’ capture.
Was his appearance a trap, or unexpected aid?
“I don’t know.” I sighed.
“Then let’s not think about it tonight,” Eleos suggested.
Lifting my head, I watched the distant spires of the castle draw closer.
Ma’at’s palace was even more beautiful than Seth had described. Great marble wings wrapped the palace in their embrace, and purple banners dangled from the friezes, fluttering in the breeze. Warm light spilled from the myriad windows, brightening the gardens and moat surrounding the grounds. I could see several silhouettes on the stairs leading to the grand doors—guests arriving.
Nobles—Gods.
Dozens of knights patrolled the promenade and watched the perimeter. I grabbed Eleos’ arm as we passed through the gates and released it in relief when nobody stopped us.
Giggling, I glanced down, imagining Athena dressed up in a royal caparison with a feathered headpiece. Eleos read my thoughts and chuckled at me.
Eleos slipped off the saddle and offered me a hand down. I took his hand, glancing warily between Athena and the approaching Ma’at knight. After a brief exchange with Eleos, the guard took Athena’s reins and led her away.
They had best not hurt my horse.
“She’ll be fine,” Eleos assured me, taking my arm as we approached the promenade.
My head whipped in every direction, counting the shadows behind the trees, statues, and bushes. Assassins could be lurking there, just out of sight.
Slipping out from behind a statue, Phaedrus fell into step with us.
“You’re thinking the same thing I am,” he observed. ”You twoshould stay together. I’ll watch the other side.”
“Don’t stray too far,” Eleos said. “Try to blend in.”
“I’m a master of conversation. I can manage.” Phaedrus winked and hastened his pace, getting ahead of us.
Eleos breathed out. “I can’t believe I’m starting to trust him.”
“Strange, isn’t it?” I chuckled. “I told you he was still in there, somewhere.”
“I hope you’re right,” Eleos murmured, guiding me through the doors.
During my years as a con artist, I’d only stepped foot in a royal ball once. Ainwir and I had been disguised as servants and hadn’t seen much of the ballroom. Still, the splendor of Serifos’ richest pricks couldn’t match the indulgence laid before us.
The dresses the women wore could have funded a family for years. Gold trim, countless pieces of jewelry, layers of silk, and gossamer. The men were no different, adorned in rings and circlets, many carrying scepters and canes bearing their family’s crest and precious gems. A chandelier loomed far above the ballroom, dangling golden crystals that reflected the firelight across the marble tiles.
I took in a breath. “I’m under-dressed.”
Eleos scanned the room, searching for the others. “Aesthetics lose their luster when covered in too much gold.”
“Are you going to call me aesthetically pleasing again?”
