CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
SCHEMING IN SHADOWS
Getting back up the mountain is simple enough. We keep our hoods pulled low and ride the sky cart early in the morning alongside several Opherans who work in Virdei. The cart is so full, no one pays us any mind.
The true challenge is getting into Widow’s Hall undetected.
Getting in the way we left isn’t an option. After our escape, the dungeons and stables underground are bound to be crawling with guards. Which leaves the doors.
When we reach the top of the mountain, the other passengers of the sky cart turn to make their way to the Honorate houses where they work, but Kaidren and I move to the arena.
It’s locked now, before training, but the domed ceiling is made of tshira. Kaidren and I twist our way up the stairwell that clings to the outside of the arena and leads to the roof. We’re both out of breath by the time we reach the top.
I place a hand on the tshira roof. Tendrils of heated magic spread through my body, making me feel light as a wispy cloud.
I savor that feeling as, under the force of magic, the roof melts.
It’s still here, but its form is shifted from an impenetrable, solid barrier into a membrane, like with the cell walls when we fled prison.
Carefully, I climb through the tshira, slipping onto the ledge on the inside of the arena.
It’s pitch-black in here.
Foreboding is a heavy sensation in my gut.
I clutch Kaidren’s hand—to keep track of him and so I don’t fall—as we move down the benches in the stands.
At the base, we enter an equipment room and steal two aikkari uniforms. They don’t fit either of us perfectly, but they have masks that cover our faces, which is all we need.
We’re concealed head to toe as we make our way to the servants’ entrance to Widow’s Hall.
A few servants glance at us as we enter, but we’re soldiers, and they’re trained to not ask questions. No one stops us as we slip inside.
The view from the balcony off Luc’s office is the best in all of Virdei. But as I sit here with Kaidren, neither of us is enjoying the view. We’re lying in wait, masks off, for Luc to return to his study and dismiss his guards.
In the meantime, Kaidren and I haven’t exchanged a single word. I keep count of each painstaking second and avoid looking at him.
We’re back in Virdei. We both know what that means, but so far, neither of us has said it out loud.
Four minutes of terse silence later, he turns to me. “Mira.” He says my name softly, entreating me to look at him.
I do. And immediately regret it. There’s more emotion pooling in his eyes than I know how to deal with right now.
“I just wanted to say that my offer stands. There’s a place at my side, and it’s reserved for you.”
My heart thumps so hard it hurts. “I’m not going to back down.”
“I know.” He smiles, sad and wistful. “But I had to offer again. Just in case. I’ve enjoyed this. Being at peace with you. Even if it was only for a moment.”
“Me too.”
Placing a hand on the side of my neck, he strokes my cheek with his thumb. After a pause, he kisses me. It’s softer than his earlier kisses. It’s sweet the way that I’m not, and full of longing. When he pulls away, he doesn’t lower his hand. “I wish you and Lucien good luck in the Tournament.”
I put my hand over his, not to push him away but because it’s comforting. “No, you don’t.”
“You’re right. I don’t,” he murmurs with a rueful grin. “But after this, everything between us changes. I think losing you will be easier if we lie to each other.”
My heart is heavy. I wonder if I’m making the right decision, even as I know I won’t change my mind. “In that case, good luck, Kaidren.”
“Good luck, Remira.”
We sit like that, not saying a word, until we hear the door to Luc’s office open.
Only when I’m sure his guards have left, do I stand and push open the balcony door.
My brother sits at his desk, face buried in his hands, looking brutally exhausted, like he’s going to collapse any second.
“Hey,” I say softly.
He jumps. His head flies up, slumping eyes widening. Usually when I startle him, he relaxes when he sees it’s me. This time, the tension doesn’t fade. “Mira?” His tone is disbelieving. “Is it really you?”
“It’s me.”
He flicks through a dozen emotions before settling on relieved. He hurries around his desk to envelop me in a tight hug. “Stars in hell, Mira,” he breathes into my hair. “You’re alive. When no one found you, I worried you froze out on the mountain. Are you all right? Where have you been?”
“I’m all right.”
Finally, his shoulders ease, and he squeezes me tighter.
When he pulls away, he’s frowning. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you, but it’s not safe for you here.
If someone catches you, they’ll send you back to prison, and it won’t be so easy to escape this time.
” Luc’s eyes widen as he realizes something.
Hurriedly, he releases me to lock his office door.
There’s a chill behind me as the balcony door opens again, bringing with it a burst of cool air.
“You might want to sit,” I say to Luc’s back. “We have a lot to tell you.”
“We?” Finished with the door, Luc turns to face me. His startled eyes jump to Kaidren, entering the study over my shoulder. “What the hell is going on?”
“We know who murdered Arliss Vale,” I say. “It wasn’t me, and it wasn’t Kaidren.”
“Then who was it?”
“Flynn Sixmen.”
Luc stares at me.
Gently, I place my hands on his shoulders and steer him back to his chair, forcing him to sit. “Take a seat. Like I said, we have a lot to explain.”
Arliss Vale. How many times can a single man die?
Killed by his son, then killed by an Opheran, now killed by an Honorate. At this rate, I have to wonder: Is there a single person left on this mountain who didn’t want him dead?
The decurio claim they’ve finally caught the right man. This Queen of Shadows is less certain. Allow me to peel back the curtain and let you, the people, decide whether our newest suspect is guilty.
Let’s hear the decurio’s evidence against him, shall we?
First: A servant in Widow’s Hall testifies to making a wax imprint and matching key to the bedchamber of the Honored Praeceptor’s own sister.
Did our new suspect use this key to frame the unsuspecting Kyler? You decide.
Second: A shopkeep in Ophera claims our newest suspect purchased a bottle of the same poison used to kill Arliss Vale only a week before his death.
Third: There is not a soul who remembers seeing our current suspect on the night Arliss Vale was murdered.
Who is this latest accused suspect, you ask? None other than Flynn Sixmen.
Flynn Sixmen now sits behind the very bars that caged Bastard Vale for no longer than one day. An end to a legacy, and a start to an election. Choose wisely.
Bastard Vale, his name cleared—for now—once again competes to become the next Praeceptor of Virdei. Come bear witness to the third and final trial of the Tournament of Thrones. I have it on good authority, it will be the most exciting event yet.
Dear readers, wish Bastard Vale luck for me. I have a feeling he’ll need it.
Fondly,
Shadow Queen