More interested in her mission than the food, Rylana headed for the same door that Yerin had used. Sylin followed but also plucked up a small plate and wineglass that someone had abandoned, a few morsels remaining.
“You might want to put down your hood if you’re going to pretend to be a guest,” Rylana suggested, though she didn’t know if that was Sylin’s plan or if she only meant to consume the leftovers. After all,shewasn’t being paid in free food from the diner. “It’s a nice spring day,” Rylana added, “and nobody else is skulking about in assassin’s garb.”
“In this crowd, my pointed ears might stand out more than a hood.”
“Nah, elves often get invited to parties hosted by the rich. Their innate regal elegance makes them ideal to add a degree of pomposity.”
“I don’t necessarily disagree with that description of my people, but I’ll point out that your family’s castle is more pompous than the most grandiose elven enclave.”
“Maybe so, but elves carry their pomposity with them. Much like dragons.”
“That must be what drew our kinds to fight together during the war. Maybe it had nothing to do with protecting resources.”
“I believe scientific experiments have proved that pomposity attracts like.”
As Rylana neared the door, a woman in a black-and-whiteuniform stepped outside. She carried a tray laden with more of the small dishes, featuring delicious-looking trolled eggs, glazed ham curls, caviar-smeared crackers, and other appetizers. Though the woman barely glanced their way, Rylana turned away, feigning interest in a bronze rain chain dangling from a gutter. Sylin’s gaze drifted back toward the roast.
The woman continued past without taking notice of them. As Rylana was about to turn again toward the door, she spotted someone familiar maneuvering through the crowd.
“Two hells.”
Sylin followed her gaze. “What?”
“That’s Vormalt. What ishedoing here?” Rylana watched him browse from trays as he chatted with people near the spit. Meanwhile, she pressed herself against the cool stone wall of the house, willing shadows to hide her, but the sunny day left few of them.
“Eating,” Sylin said.
“No, he’s ruining my plans.” Rylana started to say more, but Vormalt turned in their direction, and she darted through the door.
Sylin glided inside after her, and they almost ran into another uniformed servant with a tray.
“May I help you, my lady?” the woman asked.
“I need to use the lavatory,” Rylana blurted, barely keeping herself from glancing out the door to check whether Vormalt had seen her. She’d been worried about running into her family up here. She hadn’t thoughthewouldbe lurking in the area.
“The guest toilet is down that hall. Make sure you don’t go into the kitchen. Lord Yerin is working on his masterpiece. It’ll be unveiled later, but he doesn’t want anyone to interrupt him—or see the dish before it’s ready.”
“He’s a special sort, isn’t he?”
“Oh, yes, my lady.” The servant winked and stepped outside with a tray. “Oh, good afternoon, Lord Vormalt.”
“Two hells,” Rylana cursed again and hurried down the hall. He must have seen her and come to find out what she was up to. What would she say?
She opened the first door she came to, not the lavatory but a closet with mops and brooms inside, as well as shelves stuffed with blankets and linens. There wasn’t much room, but she squeezed in and squished herself against the wall to make space for Sylin to slip in with her before shutting the door most of the way. There weren’t any windows, and little light from the hallway made it inside. Rylana pressed her eye to the gap in the door.
“I would offer to dispatch your nemesis for you,” Sylin said quietly, her shoulder jammed against Rylana's, “but I know you can’t afford my services.”
“You don’t offer a special rate for friends and family?”
“Assassins don’thavefriends, and you know I don’t have family.”
“We’re hunkered in a tiny closet together, and you don’t consider me a friend?”
“At the moment, I consider you a pest. Is that your elbow jutting into my ribs, or is the broom handle being forward?”
“Sh.”
Vormalt had come inside. Without waiting for guidance from the staff, he strode down the hall.
