Chapter 14
Fourteen
Lory
As Niely guided her through the room, Lory could make out Khayrivven’s messy waves in the crowd clad in finery.
He was chatting with yet another woman, shoulders relaxed and his back straight, the image of a courtier, even when the real Khayrivven was lethal, a beautiful predator stalking the shadows.
“Falcrest—” Niely pulled Lory close to his side as he stopped at Khayrivven’s shoulder, forcing him to turn to the side if he wanted to properly face them.
“I see you’ve found new company.” He gestured at the woman in dusty pink who was playing with a long black curl, head slightly tilted.
A silver tiara with pink crystals glimmered on her head, and around her neck, a long, silver necklace plunged between her breasts, drawing attention to her supple curves.
She reminded Lory more of the women at Lu’Shen’s than of a lady.
“Maya. Enchanted to make your acquaintance, Lord—”
“Niely.” The lord took the woman’s outstretched hand and raised it to his mouth, planting a not-so-delicate kiss on her knuckles. “I haven’t seen you here before.” His eyes lingered on the necklace for a heartbeat, then skimmed her chest and her hips in appraisal. “Something I’d like to change.”
Lory nearly laughed out loud as she took in the expression of outrage spreading on Khayrivven’s face the moment Niely glanced up at him.
Oh, he knew what he was doing. Such a clever Flame.
“You can make Lady Maya’s acquaintance some other day, Niely,” he griped at him, putting just enough bite into the words to make Niely’s eyes flash with delight.
“Oh, but now seems even better.” Niely dropped Lory’s arm, as if he’d forgotten he was about to rub into Khayrivven’s face she was about to leave with him, and Khayrivven winked at her behind Niely’s back.
“You don’t mind, Lady Maya, if I ask for this dance?”
A hint of a nod from the woman, and Niely was escorting her to the dance floor, his hand resting on the small of her back where a diamond-shaped gap in the pink satin exposed her soft, brown skin.
Lory struggled to fake an expression of disappointment as Niely turned his head, checking over his shoulder like a petty boy who’d taken someone else’s toy.
Only when the two of them disappeared in the dancing crowd did Lory playfully slap Khayrivven’s arm, then quickly looped her hand around his elbow to disguise the gesture.
“I’ve known you were ruthless, but this is outright devious,” she huffed, her laugh a hybrid of surprise and delight. “Also: the poor woman.”
Khayrivven gave her one of those smiles that made her knees go weak. “Maya knows how to handle herself. Lu’Shen always sends her best to such events.”
“Lu’Shen?”
Khayrivven placed his hand atop hers, gently tugging her into motion along the side of the dance floor.
“Lu’Shen isn’t just a brothel madame, as you might have figured out last time we visited,” he murmured, his chin brushing her temple as he leaned down. “She trains spies and helps Ashthorn out with the more delicate situations our … special units may get into.”
Special units like her, destined to become an assassin herself.
The old fear of being presented with the choice between taking a life or losing her own tightened her chest, but Lory breathed through it. Even with the comfort of Khayrivven’s presence at her side, this was still a mission, and she needed to be prepared for anything to happen.
She put on a smile the outside world would recognize as polite amusement, turning her head an inch so she could glance up at Khayrivven’s chiseled face.
“Do all trainees receive the same attention as me?” she prompted, watching heat flash in his eyes at the reminder of their hours of pleasure at Lu’Shen’s, when—not unlike today—she’d been tasked with extracting a secret from a stranger.
Only then, it didn’t matter what the secret had been, while today—
“The Pervaille family,” she whispered, already mourning the fire in his eyes. “You heard Niely, right? You hear everything.” She’d never asked him about his gift of overhearing words that weren’t meant for his ears, and this seemed a good moment to bring it up.
Khayrivven’s features tightened for a beat before he shook his head. “Not here. Let’s find somewhere private to talk.”
With a glance at the still-empty throne, he guided her toward one of the side doors, checking over his shoulder before nodding at the guards, who promptly opened the tall, gilded door for them, standing aside to let them through.
From somewhere down the marble hallway presenting itself in front of them, voices floated on the air, and Lory spotted two doors at the far end by a room-high window.
Potted trees formed a dynamic silhouette against the sun kissing the horizon behind the palace walls, and couples strolled in front of them like this was an escape of some sort, a dream of greenery they usually didn’t get to see.
Khayrivven wound his fingers around Lory’s, thumb brushing the back of her palm as he secured her hand atop his forearm more tightly. “Act natural,” he whispered, inclining his head at the couple they passed by.
In a crooked, seemingly arbitrary line, Khayrivven led her toward the end of the hallway, casually admiring the carved ceiling and columns lining the space.
Whatever this area was, they weren’t the only ones seeking privacy, and the chuckles on the ladies’ lips at their companions’ murmurs told Lory everything about what brought them out here, away from the main event. Not that she minded.
Khayrivven slowed his pace, lingering by a pair of columns as he waited for another couple to walk past them, the man inclining his head at Lory before whispering to the lady on his arm.
“Now.” There was no other warning as Khayrivven pulled her back against the wall, and Lory braced for the impact—
It never came. Instead, she stumbled into a small room behind a door of white-painted wood, integrating seamlessly into the marble wall.
Turning on his heels, Khayrivven shut the door with the softest of clicks and leaned against it, taking in the small sitting room furnished with a wooden bookcase on one side and a green velvet settee on the other.
At the center, a thick rug of yellow and golden hues covered the polished limestone floor, the colors appearing aflame in the orange sunset light.
“Better.” His chest rose in a slow, deep breath while his eyes scanned the room for potential dangers, exits, and items to be used as a weapon.
The candelabra on the windowsill, the polished rocks sitting on the bookshelf in a neat row in front of countless books, the chair beside the settee, serving as a tea table.
The corner of his mouth lifted as he spotted the empty plate and silver butter knife sitting there.
With three long paces, he crossed the room, picking up the blade and weighing it in his palm.
“Not what we’re used to at Ashthorn, but it’s sharp enough to create a decent stab wound. ”
With the effortlessness of a street thief, he made the knife disappear into the breast pocket of his jacket, a smirk on his face. “I like to steal little things from Ulder,” he explained, tapping his jacket where the knife was now hidden. “Seems just, since he stole my family.”
Lory didn’t know what to say. An open statement from Khayrivven without her drawing every last syllable from him was new. And the perfect moment to ask all those questions that had been collecting on her tongue since the moment he’d found her in the leonthor’s cave.
“Is it safe to talk freely here?”
“For now.” It was the only confirmation she needed, her heart beating out of her chest as she allowed herself to go back to that moment when he’d extinguished the Flames in the cave.
So much had happened since they’d returned to Ashthorn, and she hadn’t heard a word about Enya, Garrick, and Olive.
Or about what Lenya’s secret power was to terrify even a powerful Flame like Khayrivven into silence.
But for now—“Pervaille. Niely said the Pervaille family is behind the attacks. Is this something you know about?”
Lory leaned against the windowsill, her pulse racing as she waited for yet another revelation, but Khayrivven shook his head.
“Good news, though. At least we know it’s the rightful rulers of Criulias fighting Ulder’s regime rather than some random new group grasping for power.
” He nodded to himself, joining her at the window, but leaning against the wall instead of the windowsill, where he wouldn’t be visible from outside—not that there was anything out there, beyond the palace walls.
This window faced north, the opposite direction of Ashthorn’s pyramid, and the buildings in the city were too far away to spot a thing.
“Even though I’m not sure we can believe Niely entirely.
He might have made it up to impress the conquest he stole from me.
” The chuckle following his words made Lory’s skin crawl with questions.
“So what’s the deal with you and Niely? You served together in the common military—he told me that much—but that’s surely not the reason he has that competition going on with you.”
Khayrivven frowned at the ceiling. “I wouldn’t call it a competition.”
“What would you call it then?” Lory braced her hands on her hips, sliding an inch away to face him better.
With a sigh, Khayrivven turned his head, glancing down at her with an expression clearly questioning if she was serious.
“If someone takes such delight in besting you at something, there has to be a history.” Lory set her jaw. “What was it? Is he just a natural born prick, or did you do something to make him an enemy?”