Chapter 19
Rylee
“You have mistaken me for someone else,” I say on a tight breath as I take a step backward toward an alleyway in Cedar and Silk. Three enforcers are herding me toward the wall of a local market building.
Shit. How did they spot me?
Three weeks of dipping in and out of Cedar and Silk to visit Layce while also lifting the occasional valuable from a duke or two. They’d never miss the baubles I took, but the family of Ashlanders who need food and medicine would certainly appreciate the coin the items fetch.
“Duke Featheroy mentioned a blond girl,” one of the enforcers says, practically sneering as he looks me up and down.
I don’t look like an Ashlander today. I look like an Ari, thanks to the dress Layce loaned me.
“I assure you, there are a lot of blond girls in Cedar and Silk,” I say, doing my best to keep my tone sweet instead of sharp.
“I’ve just finished my shift at the dyer.
” I pray to the goddess Neph that they believe me and don’t go check at the local shop where Layce works.
She’d cover for me, but her boss? Mistress Mardone won’t tolerate lies. “You have the wrong girl.”
They don’t, but fuck them.
The heavy coin purse hidden in the deep pockets of my dress practically pulses.
The duke probably doesn’t even know I lifted it from him.
He’s pissed I rejected his advances and sent the enforcers after me.
Easier to accuse me of a crime than deal with the fact that someone could reject a wealthy man like him.
Ugh, the rich. They’re all the same. Entitled, naive, out of touch. I hate them all.
The three enforcers share a look, hands poised on the hilts of their blades. Are they going to cut me down right here in the streets?
I’ve worried the same more than a few times. I’m no stranger to close calls. In fact, I live for them. Live for the feeling slicing through my blood now—-adrenaline and danger. It makes me feel alive when the Ashlands threaten to snuff it out of me.
“She’s right,” a familiar voice calls from behind the enforcers. It’s all I can do not to smirk. They’re so fucked. “You’ve got the wrong blonde.”
The enforcers spin around, the motion revealing my sister a few feet away. She’s admiring a very expensive golden figurine as she holds it aloft. We lifted the pretty piece from the duke’s home, too.
“Don’t move!” one of the enforcers yells, as if she was poised to run.
Erin doesn’t need to be poised to run. She moves swifter than a feline made of smoke.
She winks at me before tossing the figurine in the air above the enforcers’ heads, and we bolt as they scramble to catch it.
My booted feet pound against the road. I’m much louder than my near-silent sister, who runs ahead of me. A wild laugh rips from my lips as I hear the enforcers curse behind us, but we cut around a corner too fast for them to follow.
Erin looks like a damn gazelle, smiling over her shoulder as she effortlessly weaves through the back alleyways behind taverns and restaurants and shops. “Keep up,” she taunts, the challenge propelling my speed.
Wind calls to me as it rushes past my cheeks, the power in my blood begging for release. I hush it, knowing it’s not needed to outrun these three fools. I only use it in dire circumstances. This little run-in? It’s a regular Wednesday for Erin and me.
A blink and I lose sight of her, the quick loss enough to slow my steps for a few precious seconds. I skid to a stop at a fork in the pathway, looking left and right and then ahead. The breath in my lungs comes sharp and quick, my skin flushed from the chase.
Shit. Erin, where did you go?
Grunts and curses sound down the path behind me, and I hustle forward, instinct propelling me. I glance over my shoulder just in time to see the first enforcer make it into the alleyway—
I’m jerked to the left, into a darkened room that goes nearly pitch as Erin shuts the door. Our chests are heaving, and she holds a finger to her lips to ensure my silence.
I control my breathing, the effort painful as shadows block out the slivers of light slipping through the cracks in the closed door.
The smells of sawdust and freshly cut wood fill the small space, and as Erin quietly reaches for me, shifting me behind her, I realize she’s yanked us into a woodcarver’s supply closet.
There are plenty of saws and hammers in here if we’re caught and have to defend ourselves, but I’m seriously hoping it doesn’t come to that.
The last thing we need to be hauled in for is robbing three enforcers of their masculinity.
“They probably went this way!” one of the enforcers hollers right outside the door. Then, after a few moments in which both of us hold our breaths, I heave out a relieved sigh at the sound of them rushing off in the opposite direction.
I wait for Erin to move from her position in front of me, a protective stance she’s never let up on, even after I came of age.
“Erin,” I whisper, gently poking her shoulder to get her to move.
“Wait,” she says on a soft breath.
I go absolutely still.
“Listen,” she demands just as quietly.
I do, straining my ears.
Shit.
A low, heavy breathing remains in the alleyway. I hadn’t heard three sets of footsteps, just two. Goddess damn it, she’ll never let me hear the end of this.
After a few more tense moments, the final enforcer heads off in the direction of the others, and Erin finally shifts from in front of me, arching an eyebrow.
“That was a trap,” she says, adopting that motherly tone. The same one she’s used since our parents were forced on a Never List mission years ago. “And you almost fell for it.”
Shame pricks my chest. “We weren’t caught.”
“Because of me,” she says, shaking her head. “Rylee, you need to be more careful.”
“We were fine.” I wave her off, despite knowing she’s right.
“Today,” she snaps. “What about tomorrow? Or the day after? What about the next time you decide a shot of adrenaline is worth your life, and I’m not here to bail you out?”
I roll my eyes. “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried. And besides,” I continue, “you’re one to talk. Who was it that ran away for three months last year? All because you fell for a man from Oak and Iron?”
Erin’s lips part, then close, her shoulders dropping as a smile smooths away the lecture. “Fair enough,” she says. “And I didn’t fall for him. He was just a fun distraction.”
“Yeah, right,” I say. “And that fun distraction made it where I was taking care of that ridiculous cat of yours for a few months too long. I almost killed him a time or two.”
Erin gasps, faux shock written all over her features. Her blue eyes, same as mine, widen. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“Disappear on me like that again and see what happens,” I tease.
“I didn’t disappear,” she argues. “You knew where I was the entire time. I sent you letters.”
“Pictures,” I counter. “You sent me scribbles of paint. Made me interpret them like some ridiculous puzzle.”
“And you loved each one,” she says, playfully nudging me in the small space.
I did. Challenges, life-or-death situations—I live for those things. Anything to keep my mind sharp and my passion high, especially when it’s so easily stolen in the still moments in the Ashlands. Movement, distraction, it’s all that keeps us going.
“Still,” I say. “We’re lucky the post allowed them through.”
“Even if they hadn’t,” she says, her eyes shifting to something more serious. “You know I’d never leave without letting you know.”
“I know. And you know I’d never want to hold you back.”
“Oh, not this again.”
“I’m just saying,” I argue. “Your power allows you to go undetected. Escape the stickiest situations. If either of us could make a go of it out there without catching attention, it’s you.” Even if it would break me, I wouldn’t fault her for wanting that life.
“You underestimate yourself,” she says. “One day, you’re going to realize you were meant for so much more.”
Something thick clogs my throat, an emotion I don’t acknowledge if I can help it.
Hope.
I lost all hope for a better life a long time ago.
“Anyway,” Erin says, her smile catlike as she reaches behind her. “How much do you think we can get for this?” She pulls out the small golden figurine, blue eyes twinkling.
A laugh escapes my lips, unfiltered and free. “The one you threw was a decoy?”
She nods, tossing me the statue. I catch it against my chest, huffing at the slight weight to it. “You didn’t think I’d part with the real one, did you?”
I examine the treasure in the dim light filtering through the cracks in the door. “To save your sister?” I tease. “Figured you’d sacrifice it.”
“Who says I can’t save you and get the prize, too?” She shrugs. “Let’s take that to the market in Oak and Iron. Krev always gives us an extra ten percent.”
I hand the statue back to her, thinking of the coin purse in my pocket. “Only because you supply him with endless amounts of those cacao beans Ivy grows. Plus, I think he has a thing for you.”
“A win is a win.” She peeks out the door for a few seconds before giving the all clear.
“A win is a win,” I repeat, following her onto the path as if nothing had happened. “We can grab some medicine from the apothecary there, too, after we see Krev,” I say as we walk, thinking of what a win today actually is.
A fever outbreak has struck the Ashlands these past weeks, and the lone, secretly run store that offers basic goods has long since run out of medicine. With our haul today, we can replenish it for a month.
Pride fills my chest, right next to the anger that’s a constant from the restrictions placed on Ashlanders. It shouldn’t cost us five times the amount the nobles pay just to heal ourselves. Let alone eat or dress or, goddess forbid, indulge.
I try to ignore the injustice of it all, letting it slide into that cold hate for all things wealthy and royal that’s a permanent fixture in my heart, and focus instead on the win.
And that’s all we can hope for.
Erin throws her arm around my shoulders, tugging me in for a hug as we make our way down the paths, navigating the roads that will lead us to Oak and Iron.
“You did good today, despite me having to save you,” she teases.
“I’m getting better,” I agree. “One day, I won’t need you to save me.”
“I eagerly await the day to be rid of such a pain,” she jokes.
“Love you too, sis.” I laugh, knowing how much harder it is for her to say those words. But I feel them. And that’s what matters most.
“Darling.” Pierce’s voice cuts through the memory.
I blink. Once. Twice. Reorient myself.
I lean my head against Pierce’s chest, shifting to look up at him where we’re cozied together on one of the chaise longues in his rooms in the palace. He’d been reading to me, and my mind had wandered.
“I’m sorry,” I say, meeting his gaze.
He sets the book he was reading on the end table next to him, then wraps his arms around me to draw me closer. “You showed me,” he says. “I don’t think you meant to, but I saw where you were.”
“That’s okay,” I say. “I have nothing to hide from you anymore.”
Nothing to hide from any of them. Secrets are a game we used to play, and while this future is uncertain, at least I can rest easy, knowing that’s in the past.
I glance around at the empty chairs and sofas.
“Kal went to speak with Jullian.” Pierce answers my silent question. “Axl is grabbing food. And Jax . . .”
I sit up straighter.
“He’s gone to see Baydel in the hopes of baiting him into revealing more information about the Kings’ List.”
Apprehension claws at my stomach. “He shouldn’t have gone alone.”
Pierce rubs his hand up and down my back, a prideful smile shaping his lips. “You know, we have dealt with the kings on our own for quite some time.”
I blow out a breath, a soft laugh escaping me. Of course I know that. “It doesn’t stop me from worrying.”
“Just as we know you’re the strongest woman we’ve ever met, and yet, we will always worry about you.”
Leaning in, I brush my lips over his, breathing deeply at the contact.
“I love you,” I say, just because I can. Just because I know every day is not guaranteed.
I love you. He speaks the words in my mind, and I follow that connection down our bond, marveling at the way his power is still linked there, easily sharable.
It’s been that way for hours, with no regression or snapping back.
I don’t know how we’re maintaining this equal connection, but I’m grateful for it.
Your sister is lovely, he continues, a flicker of the memory flashing behind my eyes. And your hate for royalty and the wealthy . . . His grin deepens as he kisses me again. We’re lucky you gave us a chance when you did instead of slitting our throats in our sleep.
There’s a joviality to his thoughts, but it still stings.
I would never, I argue. Even when I hated you all, I didn’t. You’re different. You all are. And sometime soon, Lumathyst will know that.
Pierce shrugs. As long as you and my people are safe, I don’t care what anyone thinks of us.
I sigh, reality sweeping in to rob me of this small comforting moment.
Do you want to talk about her?
Erin. The memory still squeezes the life out of my heart.
Your bond is strong. Apparent in that lone memory. I’m sure you have countless others.
Tears bite the backs of my eyes. I have hundreds of memories like that one. My sister, her laugh, her support, her protectiveness of me. And yet . . .
Another memory takes shape in my mind, one that isn’t mine. The vision of her through the Fader’s eyes, giving orders, commands to a group determined to capture or kill my mates and harm the people of Lumathyst.
“It doesn’t make sense,” I say out loud, knowing he saw the train of thought.
“Even with our hatred of the royals,” I whisper.
“Erin cared for the people. Not just Ashlanders. I would understand somewhat if the Faders were only attacking the wealthy earls and dukes, but they’re not.
They’re attacking innocent shop owners and lower-class citizens. That doesn’t fit.”
Pierce is quiet, holding me, listening intently. I don’t feel one ounce of judgment or doubt from him. Don’t hear an errant thought about how people change, despite the fact that I can’t help but think those things.
People do change. I know that.
I’ve changed immensely. But at my core? I’m still an Ashlander who wants to set right the wrongs we’ve endured for far too long. I know that will take time, and many small steps are required before a greater whole can be realized.
I sink against Pierce’s chest again, exhaustion wrapping around me.
Pierce drags a hand up my back before running his fingers through my hair, gently massaging my scalp.
It feels so good, sitting here in the quiet with him, and it eases the pain storming me, the never-ending odds stacked against us.
“We will figure this out,” he says after some time. “I promise you.”