Chapter 24 #2
I loop my arm through his, allowing him to lead me away from the crowd.
I’m so grateful Pierce instructed the enforcers to treat Mirren, Ivy, and Layce as an extension of us, obeying their requests as if we made them ourselves.
Without them, I’d fear one of us would need to stay behind to ensure the enforcers didn’t interfere with people retrieving their goods.
“The head Ashlander enforcer is this way,” Pierce explains as we turn down a few worn pathways.
“I remember,” I say softly, my grip tightening on his arm. Every Ashlander knows where the head enforcer’s offices are kept, which is why I’ve always avoided this section of the center square.
Pierce leans down to whisper in my ear. “I’ll start the questioning, then you can dismiss yourself whenever you feel ready.”
I nod, my nerves tangling in my throat. Anticipation and hope dare to bloom deep in my chest, making it hard to speak. I try to reason with the emotions, hitting them with logic—the last time I was here, I found nothing to lead me to Erin.
Maybe Pierce will fare better with his endeavors with the head enforcer.
The enforcer’s office is kept in a simple wooden building, but it’s more well-kept than the others lining the square.
There are less holes in the wood from hungry insects, and a fresh coat of stain makes it appear newly built.
The main door is open. No doubt one of the enforcers told him we were coming.
“Your highness.” The head enforcer, a man named Ned, bows to Pierce before gesturing him inside.
Pierce hesitates outside the open doorway, arching a brow as he looks from Ned to me.
“Your highness,” Ned hurries to add, bowing to me in a panicked hurry. It’s almost comical. “Forgive me,” he rushes to say. “I’m so unused to visits from the royal family and have yet to adjust to your new mateship.”
Pierce tips his chin up, studying the enforcer before finally leading us inside. The office consists of a small desk, a grouping of mismatched chairs, and an ancient-looking cabinet pressed against the farthest wall.
Funny. I used to fear this place and this man, and now? He, along with his quarters, seems so small.
“We intend to remedy the lack of visits.” Pierce opens the discussion. We each take a seat in the chairs, the enforcer settling behind his desk.
“My man told me you’re looking into some recent deaths?” Ned asks.
“Yes. Mysterious in nature. Have you had any in the Ashlands recently?”
I hold my breath.
Ned considers for a long moment. “Nothing I would concern your highnesses with,” he answers.
“Ashlanders die from all sorts of things.” He says it so casually.
It sets my teeth on edge. “Malnutrition is one of the most common. Right ahead of mining accidents.” He shrugs. “Circumstance of their position.”
I scoff, unable to hold back my reaction. “Such a flippant way to dismiss Lumathyst deaths.”
Ned sits up straighter in his seat, eyeing Pierce as if he expects him to scold me.
He doesn’t, of course.
“Ashlander deaths, your highness.”
“The Ashlands are part of Lumathyst, are they not?” I snap.
He opens and closes his mouth a few times. “Yes,” he says, but it sounds like a question.
I take a breath. His confusion is a direct result of how the Ashlands have been treated by the royals in the past, but I can’t play that role. I can’t pretend it doesn’t matter. It does. And maybe it’s time everyone knows I will not behave the same way the kings do.
“Then perhaps take care in how you speak about the deaths of these people,” I say. “No life is worth more than another, regardless of where they reside.”
Ned looks to Pierce again.
“You do agree,” Pierce urges. “Don’t you?”
Ned clears his throat. “My sincerest apologies, highness.”
“Now, I’d like you to think again.” Pierce leans forward on his seat at bit. “Have you noticed anything that would make you believe something else was the cause of a death recently? Something other than starvation or mining? An illness?”
“There was one just last night,” Ned answers. “I didn’t think to mention it because . . .” He hesitates.
“Because why?” Pierce prompts.
“We determined it was a common overdose.” His eyes flash to mine. “A sadness, for sure, but unavoidable to those who seek out enhancements from the peddlers who smuggle them across our borders. Most likely from the Droguedens or similar suppliers.”
“What was common about it?” I ask.
“The way we found him, your highness. He was in a state of unrest in the streets, mumbling incoherently before he erupted in screams. These enhancements, they prey on the weak and crack the mind. This one took so much he started ramming his head against one of the buildings. We tried to stop him, but we weren’t fast enough. ”
Goddess, the picture he paints. It sounds like the Fader in the palace dungeon.
“Is the body still with the mortuary?” Pierce asks.
“Yes. It’s procedure to bring in an Ari from Cedar and Silk to try to identify which enhancement he took, so we know what to watch for in the other workers . . . the other Ashlanders.”
Pierce and I share a look, then both stand together. “Take me to him,” he says.
“Of course, your highness.” Ned is around his desk in seconds, leading the way out of his office.
“Would you please go speak to the people on my behalf, Rylee?” Pierce asks. “Inquire if anyone saw anything or has heard about a new enhancement?” He turns to Ned. “The man’s name and residence?”
Ned hurries to answer. I’m relieved it isn’t a name I recognize, but I’m saddened all the same. Had we stopped this new enhancement before . . .
many lives could’ve been spared.
“I will right away,” I answer Pierce. We’d already planned on separating, but his verbal permission will stop any questions regarding why I’m wandering the Ashlands alone.
“After you,” Pierce says to Ned, who dips his head and leads them away.
I take a moment to breathe before getting to work.
After an hour of trying to speak to people, ensuring it’s no one I knew from before, it’s evident no one trusts me enough to give me any real answers.
I can’t fault them. What reason would they have to tell me the truth?
And the few who did deign to speak with me had nothing concrete to tell me.
They knew as much as I did—that enhancements, while rare, occasionally made their way into the Ashlands because there were plenty of desperate souls searching for an escape.
Sometimes, that escape cost them their life.
Defeat settles heavily in my chest as I relent, giving up on my endeavors and switching to a different, easier objective. I turn down a familiar path, my heart thudding rapidly once I see it.
The third home on this forsaken road. The cracked door, rotting in the corners and hanging slightly off the hinge. The small stone paver just before it, soaked in ash and wet earth.
I linger outside the door, glancing around for any watching eyes. There are none. This quadrant has cleared out for their stipend, and there are no enforcers in sight.
I’m alone.
And I feel that notion in my bones as I quickly unlock the door, thankful it’s still locked. With the diminishing population, I doubted they’d put anyone else in our home, especially when it’s lowlier than most, but I wasn’t certain.
I head inside, leaving the door slightly cracked behind me. Our home remains untouched. My absence hasn’t been noted, likely because the only way they’d realize I was gone is if the Ashlands’ head enforcer had a direct need of me. Thank goddess, he never has.
The space is narrow, so much I can almost touch the walls with both hands outstretched.
Two thin mattresses with lone sheets sit atop the board floors, one tucked up against each wall.
There’s just enough room to walk down the middle toward the back, where a simple rusted bucket acted as our bathing chamber.
Restrooms are communal in the Ashlands, as well as kitchens.
We’d never be permitted to cook our own food, if we had any, or prepare tea.
Little things that the nobles take for granted every day.
Dust coats every inch of the space, including the paintings on the walls near our beds.
Empty.
Frozen in time.
When I left here for Ivy’s the night of the Choosing, I thought I’d return right away. I didn’t even make my bed before leaving.
I shake my head, feeling like that life is a world away as I sink to my knees atop the thin mattress, wiping my palm along the wood wall it’s pressed against. The motion uncovers the moon and stars Erin painted there ages ago.
Emotion threatens to break me, but I do my best to breathe.
I glance down at Jax’s tattoo beneath my collarbone, then at the painting Erin did, and wonder if the goddesses knew all along that I would end up with the Legends or if it’s some massive coincidence.
The goddesses told me there were other things at play, beings, Fates that they couldn’t risk angering.
My mates told me more about them, too. They’re the beings who sit above the goddesses, with most realms, like Silvac, only worshipping them because no goddesses ever came to their lands.
Maybe it’s those Fates playing this game and using me as a piece in it.
Maybe none of it is real. Maybe I hallucinated every experience with Evaluna.
It felt real.
The time that I slept. The time I spent in Evaluna’s temple. Her warnings felt real.
And there’s shit all I’ve been able to do about it. Hopefully Pierce is gleaning more than I am today.
I sigh, slumping onto the bed, wondering if I’ll ever find the strength to get up.
I gaze at Erin’s side of the room, hating the disappointment that sinks in my stomach. She hadn’t been here for a year before I left, and she’s the leader of the Faders. Why would she have come back here and left something for me to find? Some clue to absolve her of her recent actions.
A sister’s foolish dreams.