Chapter 30
Reyla
Dorion was wearing a path in our suite's carpet when we returned, his face grim with whatever he'd discovered.
I held out the token. “We won this round. Pray we win tomorrow’s contest and then we’ll leave with the pendant.”
“Congratulations. I heard someone had.” He paused in front of the fire.
Moira squealed and even Calista smiled.
“We heard about the competition in the servant’s quarters,” Moira said. “And we hoped you’d win. Imagine having the chance to hold the featherdorn pendant, let alone ask it to grant you a wish.”
“What would you wish for?” I asked with a smile.
“A gorgeous wedding dress. Dulvade hasn't asked yet, but…” Moira's eyes sparkled with hope.
Calista scoffed. “You could do better than a chef.”
“Head Chef. And I don't want anyone else.” Moira's chin lifted.
Her lips pressed together, Calista didn’t say anything further.
If Moira loved Dulvade, they deserved to be together.
Farris trotted over to sit in front of Dorion, and he stroked the nyxin’s head and scratched behind his ears.
“Farris actually took us to the key,” Lore said. “He knew where it was.”
“Such a smart nyxin,” Dorion cooed, kissing the top of Farris’s head.
“Would you ladies please go to the kitchen and bring us a meal?” I asked Moira and Calista. “For Lord Vikire as well.”
“Of course, my—” Calista coughed. “My Lady Bliss. We'd be delighted to do so.”
They curtsied and left.
Lore and I hurried to our bedroom to wash up and quickly change, him into pants and a green tunic that brought out the color of his eyes.
Fates, even with everything falling apart, he was beautiful.
I wanted to drag him back to bed and forget the curse existed.
Instead, I dressed quickly in pants and a soft tunic.
Returning to the sitting area, we settled on the sofa. The fire crackled, flames sending heat swirling through the room. In Naveer’s suite, the fire made me sweat and my skin crawl. Here, it felt warm and toasty.
Lore cast a ward, and I felt it lock down around us. His magic brushed against mine. Even with death hanging over us, that connection steadied me.
Our ladies returned with platters of cheese, bread, and fruit. Thankfully no pastries. I wasn’t sure I could eat them again. Calista opened the wine they’d brought and poured a glass for each of us.
“Please stay,” I said. As much as I’d like to send them away, they’d be safer if they heard what happened in Naveer’s suite, though they may forget anything related to the curse.
With a curtsy, they eased to the side of the room, settling in chairs.
“Queen Naveer said a few odd things when we were in her suite, delivering the key,” I said. “She suspects something.” Tension knotted my shoulders. “She was testing us, probing for cracks in our story.”
Lore's expression darkened. “She was hunting for proof. Our disguises might hold, but she's looking for reasons to doubt them.”
“What did she say?” Dorion asked.
“She called us delicious for making it this far. Then asked if we thought ourselves clever.” I replayed the conversation in my mind.
“She was testing to see if we’d slip up and reveal something.
She tried to push into my mind too. When I blocked her, her whole demeanor shifted.
That's when she really started watching us.”
Dorion's face went ashen. “If she suspects you have mental barriers that strong…”
“She’ll know we're not Lord and Lady Rutherford,” Lore finished grimly.
“She talked about death songs and willing sacrifice. About finding beauty in watching things die.” My voice dropped. “Those figurines in her room… I think they're her victims, transformed into trophies.”
Dorion sank into his chair. “You believe she suspects but doesn't know for certain?”
“She was gathering evidence,” Lore said. “Testing us. The moment she has proof we're not who we claim to be, the games end.”
“The shadow creature she sent after us was a test,” I said, explaining about the serpent. “She wanted to see how we'd react. What skills we'd reveal.”
Understanding dawned in Dorion’s eyes. “And you showed her you're faster and more skilled with a blade than Lady Bliss might be.”
“Exactly. Now she's even more curious about us.”
My belly rumbled as I took a bite of a slice of cheese on bread. Lore and Dorion grabbed food and started eating as well.
We consumed most of it, then sat back. Farris hopped up onto the cushion beside me, circled several times, before dropping down to take a nap, his puffy tail flipping over his eyes.
“Tired baby,” I said softly, stroking his silky fur. “We need to be careful not to give her the proof she's looking for, but we also can't waste time. Every moment we stay increases the risk she'll see through our ruse.”
“If we play the game perfectly, we might survive long enough to get what we came for. But one mistake…” Dorion left the threat hanging.
My chest tightened as I thought of the curse ticking away inside Lore. We had three days to balance this deadly game of deception while racing against time.
I squeezed his fingers. “She knows I'm trained. The question is whether she'll assume I’ve been practicing or suspect I'm something else entirely.”
I exchanged a look with Lore, and when he gave me a short nod, I turned to Dorion. “We saw Laphira in the hallway last night while we were exploring.”
Dorion's hands tightened at his sides. “How did she look then? Any different?”
“The same as last night at dinner and this morning,” Lore's voice stayed measured. “Blank. Staring forward. Not responding, just obeying whatever someone tells her to do, I guess you could say.”
Blocked in some way.
A shiver ripped through me. It wasn't hard to let my mind slip back to the time when I must've looked the same, after my father tried to drain everything vital inside me.
Lore's arm came around me before I realized I was shaking. He pulled me against his warmth, his fingertips tracing circles on my shoulder.
“A servant was leading her through the hall,” Lore said. “Telling her to hurry, that she didn't want to upset her.”
“Do you think the woman meant her mother?” Dorion asked.
I shrugged. “She didn't say who. But if she was speaking to Laphira, she must've assumed Laphira could hear and understand on some level.”
“There was more.” I met Dorion's eyes. “We saw a boy with her. About five years old.”
Dorion went rigid. “Her son from her—”
“He had your eyes.”
“Fuck.” The word tore from his throat. “You’re sure?”
I shrugged. “Pale blue. I have no idea what color eyes her husband had.”
“Brown. I’d met him.” He shook his head. “All this time, and no one told me.”
“Could he be your child?” I asked.
His shoulders dropped. “There's a chance. I… We were together, but her mother was forcing her to marry her now-dead husband. We planned to run away, but my father threw me into the labyrinth before we could.”
“When the boy spoke to her,” Lore said, “pleaded with her, actually, she didn't respond.”
“Laphira is…” The pain in Dorion's eyes shocked through me. “This isn't her. She's a nice person. Not a bit like her mother. She takes after her father who died a few years before she and I met.” His lips twisted. “Some say Naveer was involved in that.”
“To take the throne,” Lore drawled. “I'm not surprised.”
That seemed to be a common theme in this part of the world.
“Were you able to find her last night?” I asked.
“No.”
I'd assumed not or he might know about the child. Would Laphira tell him if the boy was his?
He settled back in his chair with a sigh. “I looked everywhere for her, but short of knocking on doors, I couldn't find her. But I did find other things.” Dorion's expression darkened as he leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “Things that confirm what we suspected about Naveer.”
Lore straightened. “What kinds of things?”
I caught Moira's sharp inhale from across the room.
She and Calista had gone still in their chairs, their faces pale but attentive.
Part of me wanted to send them away, back to the relative safety of Evergorne where they belonged.
I'd tried before, but they'd insisted on staying, on helping.
If I were in their position, I'd probably make the same choice.
Still, watching the fear creep into their expressions as we spoke made my chest tighten with worry.
“A storage room in the lower levels. Locked, but locks don't mean much to someone with my skills.” Dorion's jaw clenched.
“It was full of personal belongings. Jewelry, weapons, clothing, all tagged with names and dates going back about five years. Some of the names…” He shook his head.
“I recognized them from court gossip. Nobles who supposedly traveled here and then simply disappeared from society.”
Calista's knuckles went white where she gripped the arms of her chair. Moira pressed her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror.
My blood chilled. “How many?”
“Dozens of tags. Maybe more. The room was larger than this sitting area.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “There was a guest registry too, hidden in an office near the main hall. Pages and pages of arrivals, but…” His eyes met Lore’s. “Not an equal number of departure records.”
The implications hit me like a physical blow. She must’ve held other contests over the years, where people came to compete for whatever prize Naveer dangled in front of them. Some remained behind forever.
“She's been doing this for years,” Lore said, his voice deadly quiet.
“That’s not all.” Dorion's hands clenched into fists. “I noticed something strange about the castle's cleanliness. Most of it is filthy. I’m sure you’ve seen the dust, grime, neglect too. But certain corridors, specific rooms, are spotless. Scrubbed clean.”
Calista nodded, her servant's eye for cleanliness clearly recognizing the pattern he described. She exchanged a meaningful look with Moira, some silent communication passing between them.
“And despite being clean, they still smell…” He grimaced. “Like death. Decay. Faint, but unmistakable once you notice it.”
I thought about the pristine dining hall compared to the grimy corridors we'd wandered through. “She cleans up after herself, but only where it matters. Leaves the rest dirty to maintain the illusion of a neglected, harmless court.”
“Smart,” Lore admitted grudgingly. “Selective cleaning draws less attention than a spotless castle. Makes it look like normal upkeep rather than evidence removal.”
The weight of what Dorion had discovered settled over us like a shroud. We weren't just dealing with a queen who enjoyed deadly games. We were dealing with a serial killer who'd perfected her methods.
“Anything else?” Lore asked.
Dorion grunted. “Not so far, but I’ll keep looking.”
Since there wasn’t anything else they needed to hear, we dismissed Calista and Moira, telling them to bring breakfast early in the morning.
Once they’d left, I met Lore's eyes before speaking with Dorion again. “We know where Laphira’s room is.”
He leaped to his feet. “Tell me.”
I pinched my lips together before smoothing them. “I think we should take you there. I want to—”
“I need to speak with her, let her know I didn't abandon her.” He shook his head, and a half-smile rose on his face. “I could have a son. I can't believe it.”
“We'll have to play our parts well,” I said.
“And if Naveer tests you again?” Dorion asked.
“Then we'll have to decide how much we're willing to reveal to stay alive,” Lore said grimly.
We had to find that talisman before she gathered enough evidence to act on her suspicions. Naveer was suspicious enough to test us, which meant we were walking on a blade’s edge. One wrong move would confirm her doubts and seal our fate.
We only had three days left, and every hour we spent under Naveer's suspicious gaze brought us closer to exposure.
The curse would kill Lore if we failed.
But Naveer would kill us all if she discovered who we really were.