As Astrid thought—obviously just artistic license, then. But still, she can’t help thinking of the date the tapestry was made. That the weaver had lived at the same time as Nyx and Aeloria, and there were so few records from that time. Which Astrid had always thought strange, as had her father.
An explosion of noise comes from the mezzanine above them, and Astrid’s heart skips. Bjorn rises to his hind legs, Quincy leaping next to him to face any threat; but the ruckus, it turns out, is not yet another assassination attempt—it’s the Vatran heir. Her voice is a shriek as she demands that the blond man, Axel—who is currently dragging her along behind him, his face lit up with fury—take his hands off her. A gaggle of Dreki follows them, Zryan at the rear.
“What in Sqaõi’s name is going on there?” Jessa asks.
“He looks like he’s about to kill her,” Astrid murmurs.
They all watch as Skylar is pulled through another set of doors, her shouts gradually fading. The prince glances down at them, says something to one of the Dreki, then evaporates.
“She’s a Hel-damned wildcat, that one,” Jessa says. “Don’t let her near you in the duel. Fire a vial and end it quickly.”
“You and your vials.” Zryan’s voice comes from directly behind her, and she nearly leaps out of her skin.
She turns and her words get stuck in her throat. He’s wearing a sleeveless black shirt, showing off his powerfully built arms, deeply tanned and glistening with perspiration. His right arm is covered in burn scars from the wrist all the way up to his shoulder, disappearingunder his clothes. Goddess, he is something else. And she really needs to stop gawping.Enemy, she chides herself.He told you he needed you dead.
“Stars, can you not keep popping up out of nowhere?” Jessa and her mum stare at her, at her familiarity with him, and Zryan’s eyes spark with delight. Astrid considers stamping on his foot, given the satisfaction it brought her last time, but then his gaze begins to coast over her body, taking in her bare stomach and legs, and she freezes. There’s an altogether darker look on his face now that Astrid can’t quite parse.
“Oh, but where’s the fun in that?” He moves closer, so close she’s hit with that scent of oceans again. It’s wild and utterly divine, which is deeply unfair, as she must smell like old damp flannel. Jessa shifts next to her, and Zryan doesn’t miss the movement. “She’s right, you know. If my big sister gets her hands on you, she’ll tear you to shreds through the power of sheer spite.”
“It’s understandable she’s feeling angry. I would be, too, if I’d discovered I was related to you.”
Zryan gives a sly smile. “Yes, but you’d be mad for a very different reason.” Jessa almost chokes next to her. Astrid opens her mouth, but he cuts across her, eyeing Quincy and Bjorn. “I’ve only ever noticed two familiars among the three of you, and I’ve been wondering what the missing one might be.” He slides his focus to Astrid, that quirk of his lips telling her he knows full well Quincy isn’t hers. She grips the familiar’s fur and he presses in against her.
“Can we help you, Prince Zryan?” her mother interrupts, her harsh Vatran jarring after listening to Zryan’s melodic tones. No, not melodic.Goddess, get a grip, Astrid.
“What did she do?” Astrid asks quickly. “Axel looked about ready to murder her, and I’d like to know if I’m going to drop dead.”
Zryan considers her, and she’s pleased to note he’s struggling to keep his eyes only on her face. “She tried to break into my father’s office.”
“What?” Jessa bursts out. That explains why the king canceled dinner, then.
“Indeed,” he replies, though he doesn’t break eye contact with Astrid. “Good to see you’ve acclimatized to the Vatran weather.” Hiseyes flick down to her body, and her face heats. “This outfit suits you better than the cloak.”
With that, he disappears into nothing.
Astrid’s skin must be flaming red, and her mum and Jessa both turn on her, but before they can interrogate Astrid, she says, “He’s figured out about Quincy.”
“You don’t say,” Jessa drawls. “I’d like to know how.”
Because he’s smart, Astrid wants to reply, but that’ll only lead to more awkward questions. Jessa and her mum start talking over each other, but Astrid tunes them out. Zryan may have cottoned on that Quincy isn’t hers, but he shared something altogether more interesting. Skylar tried to break into the king’s office. The king’s office, where he’d keep all sorts of private and confidential information, maybe even the books that are missing from the library. Perhaps news on the Heart, or the Blight.
By the time she makes it back to her room, she’s come to a decision. She has a proposition to make to the Vatran heir.
16Skylar
Inside Skylar’s room, the king paces in front of her. She sits on the end of the bed, tracing his progress back and forth. Her arm feels bruised from where Axel dragged her from the king’s office all the way up to her room. Now he’s standing so close to her it’s like she can feel his emotions rippling from him, his muscles held so taut she’s surprised they don’t snap.
It’s not that she thought she’d get into the office on her first try, but she had to start somewhere—and where better to search for information on the conscripted? Okay, she found out the hard way that the room is warded, but that only adds to her theory that there is something important in there.
“Completely insubordinate,” the king is saying. “And you”—he whirls on Axel—“I thought I told you not to let her out of your sight.”
Axel grimaces but says nothing—because Arach forbid he stand up to the king.
“You are not to go anywherenearmy office—is that clear?”
“Or what, you’ll kill me?”
The king whips around and his icy blue eyes narrow. Skylar does her best not to recoil. This is the man her mother slept with. It’s also the man her mother ran from. Hid from. The man who murdered her. Skylar feels that crackling within her, and she clenches her hands into fists at her sides.
