Evander’s chamber was lit by the waning sun, its glow spilling across him as he stood with two sets of clothes in hand—one a sentry’s garb, the other a sailor’s faded tunic and trousers. His grin tilted, sly.
“Sentry or sailor?” he asked, holding them up for her inspection.
Amerei exhaled the last of her tension, lips curving despite herself.
“Sailor,” she decided, reaching for the plainer disguise.
Evander tossed the sentry’s garb aside with mock offense.
“Knew you’d pick the dull one.”
She shook her head, clutching the worn linen, the fabric rough against her palms—grounding her when her heart was already miles away.
Past the castle walls.
Past the noise and smoke.
Past everything that kept her from him.
Viktor.
Chapter Nineteen
Shadows in the Alley
Evander’s wit had always been quick. But the growl in the alley was quicker.
Evander swung his legs through the narrow window first, dropping into the grass with the ease of long practice. He turned, bracing his arms to steady Amerei as she slipped after him. Her boots sank into damp earth, the cool press of night air sweeping over them both.
For a second, it felt as if they had outrun the queen’s gaze.
Then movement flickered across the courtyard. A guard—lantern swaying—turned their way.
Amerei’s breath caught.
Too loud. Too sharp in the hush.
Evander didn’t hesitate.
His hand closed around a stone from the garden wall, testing its weight. In the same motion, he drew back and hurled it. The rock cut the air with uncanny force, slamming into a post across the yard with a crack loud enough to turn the guard’s head.
Amerei stared. He had thrown it the same way Viktor had driven off the dragon in Glaston’s forest—effortless, precise, as if the air itself had carried it farther than it should.
The guard muttered, adjusting his lantern toward the noise, and trudged off without looking back.
Amerei exhaled, slow and quiet. “You do have quite an arm.”
Evander brushed dirt from his hands with an exaggerated flourish, flashing her a grin as if he’d meant to impress her all along.
“Quite an arm?” he echoed. “Say it louder, Ami. The whole harbor should hear.”
Amerei rolled her eyes, tugging her cloak tighter as they slipped into the narrow lane of portside taverns. The air was thick with brine and spilled ale, lantern smoke curling between wooden eaves. From every doorway came the clash of dice, the scrape of fiddles, the calls of sailors already deep in their cups.
Evander ducked beneath a low eave, glancing sideways at her.
“So what was so important she couldn’t say it with me in the room?”
Amerei’s mouth twisted.
