She squeezes my hand, and I wonder how much of her affection is genuine and how much is for my benefit alone.
But I can’t help but be affected by the pride radiating off of her. It feels good to see her happy. It reminds me a bit of our mother. Her praise was rare, too, but nothing felt as good as hearing her say you’d done a good job.
“Go,” she says, and without another word, I leave the chamber.
Chapter Seven
There’s only so long after you arrive at a new place that you can pretend to be lost in order to get away with being in places you’re not supposed to be.
We figure we have about a week before turning up in private quarters begins to look suspicious, and with the king outside of the palace, it’s even less likely that anyone will wonder what I’m doing so far from our assigned chambers.
On the way from the throne room, I tried to memorize the route back to it. I retrace those same steps now, glancing out the windows as I go to get my bearings.
It’s impossible to map out the palace in my mind. I’m not sure I could do so even with ink and paper, although that would be an entirely foolish task to undertake anyway. All I really need to do is find my way to the king’s quarters and then into the servants’ passages that lead there.
I make it back to the throne room before I encounter anyone. There are two guards positioned at the door we’d come from; I don’t remember them being there after we’d left, so maybe Ronan has returned.
I don’t want to see him again. I’m still trying to process what happened earlier. I can’t help but feel a bit betrayed by Adria’somissions. I’m wishing Cyrus hadn’t shown us to our chambers first so that I could have called on Larus to ask him if he knew about Adria’s plan.
And I have no idea what to make of my other feelings, or of the glimpse of pain I saw on Ronan’s face. I would give anything to know what he was thinking. Was it simply regret for asking the question, or did it run deeper than that? Was it the memory of his father? Or could he possibly have been regretting his actions against us?
Not fucking likely.
I try not to think about Ronan on the other side of the door, possibly feeling my every feeling once more. I try not to think about how, for all we knew, he could feel everything anyone felt in the palace at any time. Or maybe even beyond its walls.
If that were true, it must be overwhelming. I wonder how he can tell the feelings of others from his own. If he’s ever been confused by them. If he’s ever felt as confused as I do right now.
The guards watch me approach. I decide to take a page out of Adria’s book: I act.
“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t find one of the palace servants. I’m trying to find my way to the bathing chambers.”
I can’t decide whether to try to look simple-minded or alluring. I bat my eyelashes at them a little, hoping it comes across as one or the other.
I probably look insane.
It works, though. One of the guards gives me a very complicated list of directions that I ignore after the first couple of turns send me onward past the throne room entrance the way I was hoping to go.
I imagine Ronan’s private chambers must be on this side of the palace. It’s near the throne room and away from the guests, and it seems that the bathing chambers aren’t far away. Those are down the stairs, so I go up instead.
I pass a lovely balcony overlooking a courtyard filled with exotic plants, a grand ballroom, and a dozen closed doors that must be private chambers. I consider opening one, but the other guests have been arriving, and I’m worried I’ll meet someone on the other side. There are other stairways up, but I continue to the end of the hallway until I reach a spiraling staircase that leads into a tower.
It seems a likely place, although I have little excuse for ascending a tower when we did no such thing to reach our own chambers. I hardly want to go in the front door anyway; instead, I search the hallway for a servants’ entrance.
I’m standing on my tiptoes, peering behind a tapestry, when something catches my eye out the window.
This part of the palace has windows that face the sea, but when I turned the last corner, I must have turned back towards the city, because it’s city as far as the eye can see beyond.
And there, at the end of a street, is a wide-open plaza, filled to the brim with canopies.
The market.
It has to be the same market Typhon described. I try to make out any of the wares, but I can only see flashes of light on metal and crowds of people as small as ants from this distance.
I look back down the hallway. I’m supposed to find a way into Ronan’s chambers, but I’m not certain he isn’t in them. Maybe he hasn’t left for dinner yet.
I’m not even certain I’m in the right place. This could be where Larus is staying, for all I know. If I get caught in the servants’ hallways, I won’t have any excuse for being there. Wouldn’t it make more sense to walk around and observe, trying to catch the servants entering and exiting so that I can know how to avoid them before risking it? I have my shadows, sure, but there’s not much I can do if they bump right into me in the dark.
I’ve found a possible lead. I performed the way Adria wanted me to in the throne room. Ronan isn’t even going to be in the palace tonight. Why shouldn’t I go to the market for just a little while?
