Julian smirks. “Oh, that’s easy—they’re terrified of what you’d do.” Then he stands straighter as his eyes narrow on me. “What’s wrong? I got your message, but you look surprised to see me.”
That’s right. When I couldn’t sleep, I slipped a note under his door to see me once he awoke, but I’d forgotten about that. Sleep deprivation is making me sloppy.
I’ve made up my mind, but we still have things to discuss. I gesture for him to come inside, and then I shut the door. Normally, I’d talk to him in the baths, but I don’t want to risk leaving Kera unprotected.
“Kerasea is going to accuse Medea of the murder of Mirial Bauman,” I say.
A variety of expressions crosses Julian’s face as his mouth opens. Then he closes it.
“All right.”
I blink. That was it? That’s his full response? “I feel as though you’re underreacting to this piece of information.”
Julian shrugs. “Maybe, but whoever killed her was probably someone powerful, which means one of the senators, and there are only five of them. Medea is vicious and certainly capable of murder. But Kera saw this from…here?”
His hazel eyes move around.
That was the other reason I wanted to speak with Julian before Kerasea accused Medea. He saw us together right after the scream.
“From the tower,” I say. “Her servant girl witnessed Medea pushing Mirial from the balcony.”
Julian raises his eyebrows. “Is that where the girl is now?”
“Yes, Kerasea had her stay there.”
“Because you know she’ll have to—”
A floorboard creaks out in the hallway, and Julian cuts himself off mid-sentence. He moves his head just enough that I know he heard it, too. Someone was standing right outside my door.
Son of a jackal. The walls have ears here, and I knew that.
I stride past him and fling open the door. I look out, but there is no one in the hall.
Fuck.
I’m too sleep-deprived. We should’ve had this conversation in the baths or the tower. But what’s done is done. Now I have to assume the worst person heard us. Kerasea and I will have to come up with a new plan—quickly.
Failure sits heavy in my chest, but I knock on her door. I have to tell her.
One second goes by. Two. Only silence greets me.
Panic puts its icy hands on my heart as I stare at her wooden door. There are only two reasons she wouldn’t answer.
I bang my fist, knocking three times, hoping she’s asleep even though I know she isn’t.
I hold my breath. There is still nothing, and I know she wouldn’t have left without me—she’s terrible at following orders, but she needed my decision before the conclave.
Julian comes up beside me as I slip the skeleton key out of my armor and into the door. My hand shakes, but as I turn the knob, the door was already unlocked. I push it open, bracing myself for blood and wounds. To find her mutilated body.
There’s nothing. I race into her en suite, but there’s no one in here. I search the floor, the wardrobe, the balcony—nothing. No blood trail. Her things are all here and orderly, but she is gone.
Her sheets are rumpled but empty.
“Go down to the conclave like everything is normal. I’ll find her,” I say.
I take off running to the only place I think she’d go.
LV.
