Chapter 27
Chapter twenty-seven
The thick fumes burned Nin’s eyes and throat, but she pushed forward despite the pain.
“Nin!” Cedric yelled after her, but she couldn’t stop.
The edges of her vision blurred as she raced after the man shutting a service door behind him, her pulse echoing in her ears as she wrenched it open. He disappeared around a left corner, and as she hurried to follow, he veered right, his coattails flapping in the dim light.
A servant screamed, and glass shattered in the corridor as Otto shoved the young woman against the wall.
Nin spared the servant an apologetic glance, leaping over the fragmented plates.
Otto’s legs may be longer, his muscles stronger, but his life as an ambassador was no match for her years on the streets.
He slowed a fraction after several minutes into the chase, giving her the opportunity to catch up to his long strides.
Her fingers whispered against his coat before he threw a door open in her face. Nin caught herself, slipping around the door and dashing into the kitchen courtyard. Rain whipped her face as mud slicked beneath her boots. Otto darted right, but Nin calculated his destination.
Chickens burst from their covered coops, screeching and scattering, as she tore through the service yard. Sheep bleated inside the barn. Metal clanged up ahead, horses whinnied, and she pushed herself to race forward.
Nin slid into the stables just as Otto cut between a feed cart and a water barrel.
Horses reared in their stalls and started for the end of the stable.
Chest burning, legs aching, Nin ignored the discomfort begging her to slow down and hurtled over the cart.
The momentum launched her forward, her arm reached out and grasped fabric.
She twisted, yanking them both to the ground.
Her shoulder smashed into the compacted dirt. A silent cry wheezed from her chest, but she scrambled back to avoid the elbow slamming down on her. The world became a tangle of swinging limbs and grappling clothes.
Voices shouted outside the stables. An arm wrapped around her throat, but she dipped her chin, preventing the chokehold from squeezing. She bit, clamping as hard as she could into his sleeve.
Otto hollered, his cries competing with the thunder rumbling from above.
A swift elbow met her ribs. She gasped, and a white-hot pain radiated through her like a scorching poker.
Otto scrambled away, but she clutched his ankle, biting the inside of her cheeks through the flaring pain.
He kicked and twisted, catching her shoulder.
She lost her grip as she rolled over the straw strewn across the ground.
The pins came loose, scraping against her scalp.
Otto leapt to his feet, stumbling back into a stall door, his chest heaving. Nin wobbled on all fours. To her horror, her dirty blonde locks spilled around her, the cap sliding with a wet splat.
Nin scrambled for the hat, but a boot pinned it to the ground.
Every limb trembled as she peered up at his pale face. Neither of them moved. She didn’t dare to breathe.
For a fleeting moment, neither did he.
“You—” he rasped, and her stomach sank past her toes and into whatever empty void waited beneath the ground. “Princess… Marianne?”
She staggered to her feet, her ribcage and shoulder flaring with the movement. Stumbling, she clutched one arm around her aching side as he continued to assess her with furrowed brows.
How she drew herself up—her posture, the way she lowered her stance. Her pulse roared in her ears as she stood her ground.
The air hung thick with the scent of damp hay and something metallic. A low, guttural cough escaped him, a rasp against the thunder rumbling above them. Each passing second pounded against the dread eating through her core.
“That’s not possible,” he murmured. “You’re not…”
He fixated on every detail of her tattered clothes, up to her scowl. Nin’s instincts screamed the moment it clicked. His eyes narrowed as his body shifted forward. Not retreating, but recalculating.
Nin lunged.
Her foot slid forward between him, her body low as she hooked her leg around his. With a grunt, she launched his weight over her hip, sending him sprawling to the ground. Pouncing on him, she whipped a dagger from within her coat and held it up to his jugular.
Otto’s throat bobbed under the blade. He frantically searched her face before his features smoothed in revelation.
“No…” he whispered.
A slow smile crept across his thin lips.
“You move too well to be the princess.”
Nin pressed the blade against his neck, attempting to silence him, as blood trickled over the steel.
“You were sent to die in her place.”
The words struck deeper than the blade she held at his throat.
A small packet flashed in his hand. She jerked back, swiping it from his grip before he could tear it.
It flopped to the ground, and they both moved.
Nin lodged a heavy kick into his side, scooping up the delicate paper as she rolled.
Before his hands could reach her neck, she crushed the packet against his chest.
The powder exploded in a puff of white, shimmering air, blooming over his muddy coat.
Otto coughed violently, stumbling onto all fours. His eyes grew glassy as he choked, his strength failing until he collapsed.
Every breath burned in Nin’s chest as she slumped against a stall door. The powder lingered in the air like an iridescent snowfall, swirling toward her face. She waited for it to cloud her mind and dull her senses—but it never came.
Instead, warmth bloomed under her coat, steady and pulsing. She placed a grateful hand over the queen’s enchanted brooch. It warmed her skin, a protective barrier between her and the corrupt magic.
Boots pounded, drawing closer.
“Nin!”
Cedric burst into the stables, followed by five guards, their swords drawn. Nin raised a shaky finger toward Otto, sputtering into the dirt.
“Silent… Breath,” she wheezed.
Cedric raced to her side, kneeling to cradle her face in his palms. “Have you been affected?”
She slowly shook her head. The guards hauled Otto to his feet, but he slumped into their grip.
Cedric’s warm hands fell to his side as he stood. Anger rolled off his frame in relentless waves, like the rain pounding against the slated rooftop.
He marched to Otto, pointing his sword under his chin to force his face upward. “Did you use the Silver Flame to attempt an assassination on Princess Marianne?” The point of Cedric’s sword remained under the ambassador’s chin.
“Yes…”
“Why?” Cedric demanded.
“She came between kingdoms,” Otto murmured. “She stood in the way of what Aurelion could gain, and what Ehrenmark could lose…”
Nin’s chest constricted. “You wanted the alliance for Ehrenmark.”
Otto’s eyes fluttered, his grin widening. “Of course. The treaty would have benefited us greatly. We are small and vulnerable… Aurelion didn’t need it as much as we did.”
“Or as much as you did,” Cedric surmised, “You stood to benefit the most, didn’t you?”
Otto giggled like a child with his hands caught stealing sweets. “I would have been greatly rewarded!”
“And Rodrigue? How did you presume he would go for the alliance?” Cedric pressed.
“Grief seeks comfort,” Otto answered. “A little encouragement in the right direction is all that’s needed for the next woman in line.”
Nin’s eyes widened, and disgust coiled tight within her. “You were going to use Adelina’s sister? She’s hardly of age!”
Otto chuckled. “In a few months’ time. Besides… she is the more gentle of the two sisters. More pliable. And my king would thank me for the alliance.”
Nin was tempted to press her own blade against his throat. Her nostrils flared, her fists clenched by her side. “And your princess? Would that not destroy everything you were working for if she were the culprit?”
“It was the cleanest option,” Otto said dreamily. “A scandal is not the same as war.”
Nin’s brows pinched. She looked to Cedric, whose frown curled.
“Princess Adelina’s jealousy would be interpreted as a domestic crime rather than an act of war,” Cedric said, his blade digging a tiny cut into Otto’s neck. Blood trickled into Otto’s starched collar.
Nin’s mouth parted. Nausea churned in her stomach as the implications settled on her like an iron yoke. If Adelina were blamed, Ehrenmark could claim she acted alone, and her life would be ruined for the sake of profit.
“That’s despicable,” Nin said behind clenched teeth.
Otto peered up at her, his glassy eyes held no remorse. “It’s politics.”
Cedric stepped back, sheathing his sword. “Take him away.”
As the guards dragged him out, stumbling and smiling like a fool, Nin wrapped her arms around herself, her hands shaking. A chill raced through her spine as a thought crossed her mind.
The lie Otto had sown about Adelina had worked on her, too. It had been too easy, and that’s what frightened her most.