“Just you wait, Serill. I still have a few schemes in motion, but we’ll have to wait to see if I’m as good as I think I am.”
He chuckled but paused as they reached the front door. “I’m not going to see you again, am I?”
“Well, considering your Captain has made it quite clear he never wants to see me again…” Brela gave a half smile and nudged him with her elbow. “I’ll just have to sneak around him to say hello.”
Serill frowned, then tugged her into a hug. To his relief, she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed.
“When I get back to Aelstow, I’ll make sure I get those books packed up and shipped to your home. Now I know they’llreallybe useful to someone.”
“Thank you, Serill,” she whispered, arms still clinging around his neck. “For everything.”
“And thankyoufor everything as well.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead as he leaned away. “I hope that we are wrong about the wall and Anfroy and this war, but if not… you’ll always have a place with me. You, Farrah, Elias,andthe Veil Worshippers.”
She darted a glance over her shoulder, toward the office, before giving him a sad smile. “If I’m still alive when you take the throne, I’ll hold you to that promise.”
Serill opened the door. “You’re going to Ovir’s?”
Brela stared out the gates, eyes distant. “I am.”
“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you to be careful, but… please do.”
She chewed her lip and took a deep breath, refocusing. “We’ve got a little bit of work at the orphanage until sunset, but if you can sneak away for dinner, I’ll leave out a plate and drink for you.” She turned to him and grinned. “The good wine, too. Not that watered down red.”
He laughed as she walked through the door, cloak flowing behind her. Halfway down the path, she turned and bowed low.
“It’s been a pleasure, Prince Serill of Severina,” she purred.
Serill returned the gesture with a wink. “Likewise, Empress of Chaos, Nightmares, and Death.”
He could still hear her laugh long after she’d disappeared down the street, but sadness still nagged in his chest as he said goodbye to his friend.
51
Perfect Poisons
There had always been something so haunting about the black stone of Ovir’s house. The outer gates and towering walls had always made it feel like a prison. Impossible to climb if you didn’t know where the footholds were. Then, another impossible task to get past the guards that never seemed to miss a step. There were no blind spots, no gaps in shifts, and no shortage of deadly weapons. Always threatening. Suffocating.
Today, it felt different. Today, Brela remembered the laughter she shared with Emril after they’d returned from the Crystal Desert and Trellis refused to let them inside until they’d bathed for a week. She remembered the summer thunderstorms she watched from the balcony, wondering if storm magic wielders always felt that hum of electricity under their skin. She remembered the streamers that would tangle in the spires after any sort of celebration in Dredon.
She remembered following Ovir through the gardens and playing pranks on the other assassins. Weaving in and out of the bushes, stealing berries, and training at all hours of the day. Those dark moments, where he was cutting her down, belittling her, teasing her… they didn’t seem so bad when there were such good memories here, too.
She saw the tree where Dernian had first taught her to climb unnoticed. It looked brighter. Greener. That was the same tree she and Ovir had snuck off to in the middle of the night to steal kisses and touches. The same tree where Pierce had caught them together and Ovir had stepped aside to let her smash his nose in to defend herself. After that, she’d learned what it felt like to mix passion and adrenaline.
It was the first time she thought she could love someone after Valisea.
Brela could feel the ghost of those touches over her skin, even wrapped in her cloak. She hated it, and yet she craved it.
This place, these people. This is what she was. This is what shedeserved.
The guards along the wall acknowledged her briefly, but their gazes didn’t linger as she made an effort to take normal steps. With her magic still flowing so freely under her skin, hiding her eyes and her movements felt as smooth as her shadows. Her body was more graceful, so she took care to crunch the gravel under her boots. Made her cloak swish and breath heavier, and even then, she was still silent.
Trellis didn’t answer the door. No one stopped her when she pushed through the front like she always had. Even the assassin guarding the office didn’t flinch from his position, though his green eyes widened in surprise.
“Not dead, then.”
“Ambrose,” Brela said with a mocking grin, despite the odd taste on her tongue. When had her voice felt so small in this space? When had the walls echoed so deeply? She lifted her chin. “I need to speak with Ovir.”
“He’s in a meeting,” Ambrose replied, looking her up and down. “Where the hells have you been?”
