Chapter 49
Iwas easy enough to blend into the crowd.
There were at least two hundred people here, and judging by the placards and signs some held aloft, they would rather see Cleodora’s head roll than her ass sit on the throne of the Bluescale Court.
There were some very catchy messages to Jyrard, too.
Each one gave me a sick burst of satisfaction as Kier and I wove through the throng until we could view the stone stage called Speaker’s Corner.
Commander Loyal stood proudly atop the stage, looking out over the angry mob as his voice cut through the city. Skayan. The gateway really had brought us to the damn capital, right where Cleodora and Jyrard had begun this twisted power grab.
Speaking of Jyrard, I scanned the crowd, searching the rooftops around the circular space, peering into windows for the shape of a figure, glancing up the hill behind us at the castle that lurked there like a gargoyle.
No sign of him yet, but he’d be here. So would Cleodora.
People with egos that big wouldn’t let an insult like this die.
And the columns of black smoke churning in the sky made me uneasy. What exactly had Cleodora burned?
“Do you think—” I turned to ask Kier if we should approach the others where they’d blended into the crowd, only their steely armour and uniforms marking them as any different from the mob.
My stomach crashed, my heartbeats tripping into a panicked mass when I saw the space behind me was empty. I couldn’t shout Kier’s name, couldn’t draw attention to myself, but what if Cleodora had hurt him? What if Jyrard took him? Fuck!
I spun in place twice, panic making me irrational, and snapped my teeth at the people around me when they sent weird looks my way. Luckily, no one recognised me as the princess they were supposed to kill on sight. But Kier was nowhere to be seen.
My heart thumped my ribs, panic filling up all the space inside me.
I reached out blindly through the bond for the place where my soul touched his, a torrent of relief making my knees weak when I felt him on the other side, an equal rush of panic-mingled-relief.
No pain, no deep fear. Jyrard hadn’t got to him, we’d just been separated.
“I’m fine,” I whispered to myself, my voice eaten by the sudden roar of voices in response to Loyal. “I can use the bond to find him. We’re both fine.”
I turned and slid deep into the bond, surrounding myself with the fierce warmth and comfort that lived at the heart of him.
I turned until I was facing the steep rocky hill, the roads carved into its surface lined with shops whose mullioned windows I could just about glimpse, the castle perched above them.
Why would Kier go anywhere near the castle?
The panic inside me iced over, raising the fine hairs on the back of my neck as I walked away from Speaker’s Corner, from Commander Loyal and our allies.
I knew, deep down, it could be a trap, but if so they’d threatened my mate.
And they would live to regret it, but not for very long.
I would let Baby and Valour tear them apart, and I’d rip out what remained of their throats with my own bare hands.
“Prince Kier did not kill us,” Loyal’s voice rose above the shouting, as clear as if he was standing right beside me. “He took us to safety, where the war with the humans could not kill us. And where the cruelty of goblins could not touch us.”
The mob’s voices swelled at that, either arguing, calling him a liar, or agreeing.
It was impossible to tell the mood of a crowd so loud and full of crackling emotion.
Searing rage. But at us, or at the impostor on the throne?
I couldn’t tell if Loyal’s words had their desired impact, but I didn’t stop to ask the people around me as I wove among them, scanning for the hood of Kier’s jacket, searching our bond for his proximity.
“Prince Kier never once harmed me, but that woman tried to force me to commit treason against my own court.”
I jolted, grinding to a halt and whipping around to stare at the stage, following the commander’s accusing arm to where a figure stood framed by light on the castle’s balcony. Fuck. She was here, right there. And the tug in the bond guided me closer and closer to the castle.
Like fuck would I let her hurt Kier. She’d taken enough people from me.
My brows slammed down over my eyes, and I felt the muscles tense around my mouth. I knew the look on my face was pure murder as I set off again, faster and with more forceful steps than before. I couldn’t hear the pounding of my heart, but I could feel it against my leathers.
“She had her soldiers hold a sword to my throat unless I agreed to set bombs on my own hometown,” Loyal yelled, more fire in his voice with every word.
And gods, I knew he disliked Cleodora but I hadn’t realised he had personal reasons to hate her.
Unless this was all a clever story he spun…
but the growl in his voice made me think otherwise.
“The Haar rushed in and took me away before damage could be done. It saved us. He saved us.”
Damn. It was a great speech. If I hadn’t been terrified for my husband, I might have stopped to applaud when stillness overcame the crowd for a moment.
When it broke, their anger was visceral, sharper and far louder than before.
The shouts were jagged and disorganised but slowly gathered into one single chant.
Bluescale has no queen.
Bluescale has no queen.
That was a bit unfair to Kier’s mother, but I appreciated the sentiment so much I muttered it under my breath as I wound closer to the road that led up the hill.
The crowd flowed all the way back here, their signs painted with the same words they yelled at the top of their lungs.
Bluescale has no queen. We bow to no tyrant. Jyrard is no king.
I knew they’d have supporters here, that she’d be shipping them in from Greenheart right this minute, but it gave me strength to see so many people hate the traitors. I just hoped they didn’t see Kier and I in the same light.
I tugged on the bond, pulling Kier back to me, but anger lurked beneath the surface, a rage he’d been containing for so long it was beginning to spill out. Where the fuck was he? I thought we weren’t going to separate.
I scanned the streets as I neared the back of the square, and shock froze me for a second as my stare locked on familiar figures.
Rook, with his hand on a bottle of opalescent liquid.
Ryvan with a hood pulled over his hair, his expression tense as he searched the crowd.
And at his side, Aerona, clenching blue hands in and out of fists. No Hames, no Jakoda, no Cherish.
The last time I saw my troupe, Hames was furious and terrified, and Cherish was injured. Badly. Was she not here because she was… gone?
I ripped my stare away and ducked my head, making sure my hood covered my face. Would I witness the same hate I saw in Hames’s eyes in theirs, too? Especially after I abandoned them, and didn’t return for days.
My stomach tangled. I was too much of a coward to approach them.
I kept my head down, following the pull in my chest, jumping with every roar of the crowd.
Valour and Baby were restless, itching to break free of my rings and unleash themselves upon anyone who posed a threat.
But everyone in this square posed a threat.
Kill on sight wasn’t exactly a vague command.
I finally reached the end of the crowd. Ahead of me, a steep, cobbled street led past the rows of brightly-painted shopfronts I spotted earlier. Kier was close enough now that I felt his irritation like a scratch against my skin.
“Letta!” a panicked female voice called, familiar but not immediately recognisable.
I glanced down the covered alleyway between an inn and a farrier’s shop and my feet scuffed the stones as I ground to a halt.
Surprise was the first emotion to hit, sticky and slow.
I didn’t know why I expected one of my troupe, or maybe even Xiona.
But it was Calanthe who stood below the arched entrance, staring at me with heartbreak on her face and tears in her eyes.
Sympathy might have tried to form, but rage eclipsed it. When I regained movement of my body, I lunged towards her and threw my forearm into her throat, pinning her against the wall.
“You shouldn’t have shown your face, Calanthe.”