Jiggle.
Jiggle.
I bust through a bush into a small cobbled courtyard to see a ring of armed guards standing shoulder to shoulder.
My heart lurches.
Their arms are crossed, expressions stern, standing so close I can pick apart their scents from the smell of piss and mildew.
Churning breath, I nudge the bush aside to look back down the alley. One of the smaller guards has removed his chest plate and is shimmying along faster than I did, blocking my only out.
My domes oscillate, thorny vines of emotion scraping at their undersides, producing an ear-splittingscreech.
I hiss a breath through gritted teeth, looking at the shield of guards again. Each of the men cut shrewd glances at the sword strapped to my back.
A few of them even frown.
I can see it in their eyes. They’re wondering why I’m wearing the Western High Master’s sword. If they were to run a bag check, they’d also find Rhordyn’s shirt.
Icky, oily unease floods my chest, clogging my lungs and making it hard to draw breath into my starved lungs.
Zali made the implications of Cainon discovering Rhordyn’s fateveryclear. But there’s no way around that now that I’m surrounded by a wall of Cainon’s men who look ready to drag me back to the palace.
Wearing Rhordyn’s sword.
Shit.
If I don’t admit the terrible thing I did toacquiresaid sword, there’s no way Cainon will reignite our agreement. He explicitly told me that so long as Rhordyn was stillsniffing aroundthere would be no coupling.
It’s the only line I have to reel him in and secure those ships … A poisonous risk I now have no choice but to swallow and hope for the best.
“Gentlemen,” I rasp, lifting my chin, scanning my austere crowd. “You’re up early.”
“We need you to come with us to the palace,” one guard announces in a gruff voice, dropping his hand to rest on the hilt of a golden dagger sheathed at his hip.
My skin nettles, fingers twitching to reach back.
To snatch the hefty blade threaded down my spine.
I frown, finding a thorny weed of rage hiding between my ribs. I rip the errant thing out and stuff it beneath my anger dome, squishing deviant tendrils that try to claw free as I pin it back in place. I smooth another lustrous layer upon each dome, wavering from a surge of chill that bites all the way to my bones.
“That’s an awful l-long w-walk,” I fudge out between chattering teeth. “I’m pretty spent from my morning j-jog.”
And I desperately need to speak with Zali.
One of the guards raises a brow. I cringe inwardly, recognizing him as one of the men who escorted me back to Cainon after I spent the night comatose in Rhordyn’s bed. I’m sure this is getting old for him, too.
“How ab-bout we pretend you never saw me, and we all just … part ways? I’ll meet you back there after I’ve had a n-nap.”
“If you resist, we’ve been instructed to carry you there, kicking and screaming.”
I chomp down on a curse.
Boxed in by a swarm of towering men, I’m escorted through the labyrinth of streets, the light growing less murky by the second. Zali will be awake soon. When she finds me gone, she’s going to think the worst …
Fuck.
I should have leashed my restless energy and stayed in Rhordyn’s room. Now I’m tending a sparkly patch of domed emotion, plucking rogue weeds that keep slipping through the cracks while I’m escorted back to the palace by Cainon’s tight-faced guards.
