Chapter 34 Seren
Chapter thirty-four
Seren
The night dark streets of Acsilla were too silent, the echo of our harried footsteps too loud. Dimly lit stones roiled under our feet, reaching their tilted edges as if to catch on unsteady toes. Still, I did not waver. I did not stumble on cracks and yawning crevices.
I followed a breath behind Harkin as he wove through the narrow alleys, favoring their darkness to the ever growing light of the main roads as we approached the palace.
Though I was strong and nimble enough from my time training with the Guardians, my heart pounded and my bloodstained hands quaked. I could not quench the anxiety which washed over me in trembling waves.
Time had slipped away, the moon rising in our wake.
The remaining guards had surely reported back to Prince Claudian. He would know of my presence in the kingdom, and he would be expecting me. Worse, the prince would know of Harkin’s betrayal.
He had chosen me—betrayed for me, killed for me—and there was no going back now.
Claudian would not forgive him of his disobedience.
Harkin was in grave, bodily danger. His mother and sister—innocent from the tumult of this kingdom, blameless in the tide of the war—stood, feet at the edge of the gallows.
I would not let them hang. I would not let him suffer for me.
Because I cared for Harkin. Despite my heartiest efforts, he had convinced me that he was a person worth knowing. It was why I had come with him. It was why I had kissed him.
I could no longer deny that I wanted him, and I could not help but wonder if he felt the same. My heart ached at the not knowing, but as the stone walls of the palace rose around me, I knew the time for those questions had passed.
Harkin took my hand, drawing me close in the shadows. The words were a warm whisper against the shell of my ear—breath curling against me like a caress. “I sent word ahead. My friend will meet us on the western wall. There is a trick pane of glass by which we will enter the palace unseen.”
I swayed closer, voice low. “And then?”
His brow furrowed then smoothed as he watched me. “And then we prevent an assassination. We attempt to bring humanity and care back into a blackened throne.”
Harkin drew back slightly, frowning down at me. He turned me gently, his fingers burrowing deliciously into my hair.
I bit my lip to stop the sound of relief that threatened to escape me.
He was braiding my hair, preparing me for the battle ahead.
It reminded me of the first time he had done so, after I had embraced my mágik, as I dozed beside him. I remembered every moment since with aching clarity—wearing my hair unbound day after languorous day in the hope that he would touch me this way again.
My eyes fluttered shut, and my hands found his forearms unwittingly.
My fingers played along the cuffs of his sleeves as he worked—rough-spun fabric beneath callous palms—and he hummed a pleased sound.
When Harkin finished, he caught my hands tightly in his own.
Skin on skin, and nails biting the barest half moons into flesh.
I turned to face him, fighting the rising swell of tears—hot and salty on my tongue.
“Thank you.” My whispered gratitude was for so much more than the plaits in my hair, but I could not say so. He seemed to understand.
“Of course, Ren.” His fingers were tight in mine, eyes wary.
He worried for me—for the both of us. “I don’t know what we will face inside this palace.
Claudian could very well be waiting for us.
” Harkin inhaled a long, shaky breath. “You are ready for whatever will come.
Your mágik is strong. You are strong, Ren, and I meant what I said before.
You do not need me to save you, but I will be there by your side. “
Harkin drew me to his chest, arms wrapping tightly around my waist as he crushed our bodies together in a desperate embrace.
Our hearts pounded as one, the steady thump a drumbeat against my ribs.
His face pressed to my neck, and his lips ghosted across my throat—so tender, so slight I might have imagined it.
My fingers tangled in the waves of hair across the back of his neck, my mouth brushing his forehead.
I felt the familiar pinprick of tears teasing the back of my eyes, but I did not let them fall—instead breathing in his spicy, sweet scent and steadying myself by the rush of his pulse.
We stood there for a moment, unspeaking, not wanting to burst the tentative bubble of hope that swelled in our unguarded chests.
I had considered strapping on my armor, wearing it through the streets of Acsilla that day.
My fingers had run over the smooth lines of the breastplate—tracing the rivets and dips and edges of forged steel—but I decided against it.
I no longer needed it to protect the soft, aching thing under my ribs.
No, I had found something far better—someone—and I held him close.
A sharp whistle pierced the air, a striking imitation of a bird call. The sound was high and clear, and we might have been fooled had we not known it to be our signal.
“If it comes down to me or them…” I whispered. “Choose them, Harkin.”
“It won’t come to that,” Harkin insisted.
“But if it does, you know what you must do. Promise me.” My heart was fragmenting, shrapnel cutting me to ribbons. I choked on it.
“I promise,” he said, but he held me so tightly, I wondered if it was only another lie.
The bird call rang out again, sharp and insistent.
We drew apart with one last charged glance, and then we were off.
The palace wall dipped as we approached the westernmost side.
Crumbling rock made for an eerie image—fog curling low over damp earth and moss—but the facade was easy enough to scale.
Harkin and I darted through a courtyard, overgrown with disuse.
Behind vines and thorns and the overwhelming scent of petrichor, stained glass came into view—moonlight gilding the colors in muted silver.
A sense of knowing familiarity crashed over me, and my blood turned cold. Lacquered images of royals and mágikal creatures painted the glass, and my heart stuttered in warning.
“Harkin…”
My feet kept moving, blazing forward even as my mind spun.
“I’ve been here before.” My voice cracked, a lilting, broken whisper.
“What?” Harkin turned to me, but the panel was already swinging open.
The world was already tilting on end.
A serious face greeted us from the other side, thick curls bouncing against her temples. Her brown skin was radiant under the moonlight, her eyes shadowed. She was, without a doubt, the woman I had dreamed of.
The spymaster.
“What the fuck?” I gasped, throat tightening around the words—squeezing them out of shape. “What the actual fuck is happening?”
My knees shook, and I pressed one palm flat against the glass—crystals snapping beneath the heat of my palm. In my memory, my fingers bloomed frozen white.
I withdrew my hand with a cry, cradling it to my chest.
“Ren?” Harkin drew closer, movements slow. “Are you alright? We have to go.”
“I’m… I don’t know. I—” I could not tear my gaze from the woman. Her eyes narrowed as she regarded me in turn.
“The clock is ticking, Aranti.”
He scowled in her direction. “I know, Safiya. Claudian knows of our approach—my betrayal. If we intend to save the king and my family, we’ll need to hurry. I know that. Just give me a minute.”
“Apologies, mercenary,” Safiya grumbled. She drew a blade, flipping it between her fingers impatiently.
“Seren, talk to me. What’s going on?” His brown eyes bored into mine, splitting my focus.
I sucked in a deep, rattling breath. “I have seen her before. I have been here before. But it… it wasn’t real. It wasn’t supposed to be real.”
Harkin took my hand, drew it between the warmth of his palms. “Tell me.”
“I thought they were dreams. All along, I thought they were dreams.” I turned to Safiya, pushing past the heavy stone in my stomach. “You entered the palace through this window. You were so angry because they had taken so much from you. Someone you loved. But you found love again. With Ayla.”
“How do you know that?” Safiya snarled, stalking forward with her blade raised in distrust.
“The dreams,” I whispered. “For months, I have been dreaming of this place, this palace, these people… I didn’t know it was real. I thought… I don’t know what I thought, but you are flesh and blood. Fuck.”
A sharp inhale cut through the silence. “It must be part of your Moonkissed mágik, Ren. The moon is tied to dreams. It makes sense.”
“No, it doesn’t! How can I dream of people I have never met? See into their memories? It’s impossible.” Tears slipped down my cheeks, catching in my lashes.
“I’m starting to believe anything is possible,” Harkin murmured, drying my face with each slow swipe of his thumbs.
Safiya huffed, a sound both amused and exasperated. “I see why you stopped responding to Claudian’s letters.”
“Not the time, Saf.”
“I think it’s exactly the time! We’re about to face Claudian—to risk absolutely everything—because you got yourself in too deep with her. And Moonkissed? Seriously?” Safiya laughed, long and low. “No wonder Claudian wants her. You should have let him have her.”
My laughter echoed hers, wild and loose. “You’re right. He should have.”
“No!” Harkin thundered, brows knit and lips tilted in a frown. “No. You deserve your life, Ren, and you deserve happiness. We end this. Tonight.”
“Then let us go. Follow me.” Safiya closed the glass pane behind us and led us through the winding hallways of the Acsillan Palace. I recognized them from my dream. I had followed Safiya then too, but soon we took a turn I was unfamiliar with, and my pulse skittered on.
“We’ll cut through the ballroom,” Safiya explained in a low voice. “There is a hidden passage that will take us to the royal chambers. From there it shouldn’t be hard to locate the prince and do what must be done.”
I didn’t know if Safiya meant to imprison him or end his life. Neither did she clarify, nor did I ask. I cut her a glance through the din, but her expression was carefully composed.
Voices sounded up ahead, accompanied by the shuffle of boots on carpeted stone. Safiya and Harkin reached for me, fingers pressing hard into each of my arms, and the three of us tumbled through a doorway on the left.
We stumbled into the music room. Instruments lined the walls—violins and flutes on ornate stands—and a large piano rested in the center of the room.
The shine of polished metal and the gleam of oiled wood still glimmered beneath the dust which covered them in a thick blanket.
It was the little fiddle on the desk that caught my eye.
It reminded me of my childhood. The festivals I would attend with my family, alight with lively music.
It was another reminder that my life before was but a lost memory, but this time the ache was duller—not quite gnawing at my ribs.
“I thought I heard something,” came a muffled voice from beyond the door.
“Find them,” another hissed. “Prince Claudian wants them brought to him alive.”
I held my breath, shooting alarmed looks at each of my companions.
Harkin shook his head, a tight movement. Safiya only looked to the ceiling above, as if in silent prayer.
The door pressed open, wood scuffing on stone.
I wanted to draw my sword, to rely on the skills I had honed with the Guardians, but the space was too cramped, and there was too little time. I wrapped my fingers around the hilt of my longest dagger instead.
Light from the hall flooded the music room, glinting off my blade just as the guard came into view.
Harkin reached for me, but I lunged too quickly.
Safiya was quick to my side. She dropped to her knees, a hand pressed flat to the floor.
The stone beneath the guard’s feet cracked, and he stumbled.
With an upward motion, I sliced through his shoulder.
He clutched at it with a groan, already opening his mouth to yell for his fellow soldiers, but Harkin stole the breath from his lungs with one twist of his ready hand.
We converged upon him, drove him down into the ground.
Safiya stifled a scream, biting hard on her lip until blood welled. The guard had landed a cut on the back of her bent knee.
“Are you alright?” I asked in a panicked whisper.
“Fine,” she choked out. “Finish it.”
I turned back to the guard. He still struggled, though he was heavily outmatched.
“I’m sorry,” I said—such meaningless words—and I plunged my dagger into his heart.
Harkin tore the guard’s tunic and bound Safiya’s wound tightly. Already, blood soaked into the pale fabric.
“Saf…”
“I don’t want to hear it. I’ll live, and I’m not letting you do this without me.”
“We have to go,” I urged them.
It was only a matter of time before the other guards came looking.