Chapter Fifty
Analleia
Every great assassinationplot required three vital elements: a setting, a target, and a marksman.The setting tonight featured the massive palace of Paravellia hosting the finale ball.The target was the ruthless king who murdered my family, and the marksman was me: the girl who had trained for five years to take him down.
I vowed it would be the only time I killed someone.
I stood the whole carriage ride, bent forward and braced between the two seats, careful not to let any part of my dress bump into anything for fear it would fall apart.I ran through the plan in my mind, making sure it was solid.The sounds of the finale ball drifted in through the carriage windows, color seeping through the curtains and my rib cage rattling from the boom of the fireworks overhead.The fabric of my veil tickled my face and the brown wig was itchy.It took all my willpower to keep from messing with them.
The carriage rolled to a stop, the attendant opening the door for me.I kept my eyes trained down in an attempt to keep their color hidden as he helped me out, and I bent my shoulders awkwardly to maneuver my wings outside the narrow opening.Plumes of swan feathers stretched out on either side of me, giving me the appearance of a golden angel.The curved ends of the bow made up the bone structure of the wings themselves, the middle piece strapped down my back and connecting them.
I dipped my head in thanks to the man, climbing the palace steps to wait in line behind the other guests, my stolen invitation grasped within my hand.I had outlined my upper eyelids in black and gold to match the extravagance of everyone else and in hopes it might draw attention away from the bright blue of my eyes.
People’s stares lingered, threatening to give away my identity, but I assured myself unless someone was seeking me specifically, I shouldn’t be recognized.Far more commoners milled through the palace grounds tonight.My gaze flicked up to the outer walls, taking note of the extra guards stationed across its line.They wouldn’t be watching for me at the main gate, wouldn’t think me stupid enough to waltz in with the public, but every outer edge, roof, balcony, and alcove would be crawling with military.I paused, calculating.Were they expecting me?I frowned.Had they broken Desmond?Worry lanced through me.
As soon as I killed King Zaricor, I would break Desmond out—or die trying.
“Miss?”
My insides quaked with fear even as I remained composed outwardly.I took a step forward, not looking at the official as I handed him my invitation.Everything depended on my getting in without question.
A shout echoed from the right and I froze, glancing to see the commotion as a fight broke out between two brawling royals and led to blows.The official looked down at my invitation, frowning.I clasped my hands in front of me, putting on the air of being put out.He divided his attention between the invitation and the fight, muttering a string of curses under his breath.He threw an unseeing glance at me before waving me through the doors.I fit the part of a pompous noble, no need to question.
I hid my smile, holding in my sigh of relief as I stepped through the glass doors and into the grandeur of the finale ball, the swell of the instruments overwhelming.Twinkling lights dangled from the ceiling, the walls decorated in swirling sashes and banners.Acrobats hung suspended from silk and performers spewed fire from their mouths as magicians enchanted the crowds around them.
It was the wonder of the year.
But I walked through it all, only one thing holding my attention as I stepped into the center of the crowd.The seven balconies circled upward to the room around me, and I peered up, my gaze resting on the highest floor where I planned to make my crow’s nest.
Where I planned to avenge the murder of my family and the destruction of my kingdom once and for all.
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Valeris
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TIME TICKED BY LIKEa bomb preparing to detonate, blowing up all my plans directly in my face.We had searched the safe house.Desmond wasn’t lying.She had definitely booked it, and we had found a briefcase stuffed with supplies, but there was no sign of Analleia.The innkeeper said he had never seen her, had just been paid to keep the room empty for the duration of the Paravellian Balls.
I’d punched a hole in the wall when the soldiers had returned with the news.My father was breathing down my neck, pressuring me for answers.I’d assured him he would have her by the end of the finale, but I questioned my ability to follow through on it.
I stood to lose everything.
I circled the ballroom, irritated by my stiff clothes, the collar of my shirt choking me.There was no way she could get past security unnoticed.We had every inch of the palace guarded.
She wouldn’t miss it for the world.
Her brother’s words repeated in my head.I was missing something.Something that should be obvious.
I searched the ballroom, scanning faces, wading in and out of the sea of people and festivities and elaborate costumes.If she had disguised herself she could blend in, but how would she sneak in?More than once I found myself turning at the flash of blond hair, the gaze of blue eyes, but every time I was mistaken.I watched through the windows, peered out into the darkness for any familiar shapes moving along the walls, but saw nothing.The entire militia guarded the palace tonight, every soldier dispatched.It would be impossible to make it past all of them without detection no matter how skilled she was.
But my gut told me otherwise.
She would be here.
