6. Eshe #2
“There’s so much of the city I haven’t seen yet. If you don’t see me in the next hour, I’ll for sure see you tomorrow morning.”
I squeezed Norrah’s hand, assuring her, though it felt so strange having to explain myself to someone.
Ana and Norrah gave me a smile before heading into the lounge.
I never had a sister, but if I did, I’d like to think she’d be like Norrah.
As planned, I hurried my way to the palace gates as the sun set behind me, highlighting my path.
The walls were higher than Zyriah’s palace, and to say they didn’t intimidate me would be a lie.
But that was okay, because I lied to myself often and I’d come to like that part of myself. It was demented, and I thrived on it.
By the looks of it, it would take me almost two hours to walk around the palace walls, and time wasn’t something I could afford. On a hunch, I chose the left wall from the closed gates.
I pulled my cape from my bag and wrapped it around my shoulders, lowering the hood over my head. The streets were less bustling where I walked. I noticed a tree with leaves the color of flames leaning near the high walls. Perfect.
When no one was looking and daylight had completely vanished, I placed my sandals into my bag. Barefoot, I made my way up the tree, the bottoms of my feet scraping against the bark, and pulled myself up with my fingers embedded in branches.
One branch at a time, I pulled myself higher. As soon as I reached the last branch capable of bearing my weight, I gauged the distance between me and the top of the wall.
The wall was about two feet wide. I’d practiced plenty of balancing techniques with Garamgai, but training was different from real life.
Aiming to jump a good seven feet to land on top without splattering fifty feet below and balancing myself over those two feet was—I smiled—exhilarating.
Without waiting another moment, I jumped, landing on the edge—barely.
My feet slipped on the edge, and half my body dropped before my arms grappled the top of the wall. I wiggled my legs up the wall, searching for any gaps my toes could grip.
I found one.
Yanking myself over by the power of my arms, I crouched, balancing on top. I then surveyed my surroundings, trying to figure out how to get down.
But before I looked for another tall tree in the distance, I found a tower.
Thank. Fucking. God.
I tiptoed my way over, hoping no one would see my body on top of this massive palace wall. Once I reached the edge of the wall, I jumped onto the tower only to find out it was a watchtower, and a warrior now stood in front of me, eyes wide, hands on the hilt of the sword swinging from his hip.
I did what men did best: dancing around my opponent in a swaggering manner.
My hood low, I watched him. Placing one foot across the other, I ensured there was a decent bounce in my knees before I sprang forward.
Forearm in front, I crashed it into his wrist. The surprise didn’t release his hold on the sword, but he staggered backward.
He opened his mouth to—I assumed—shout for his fellow warriors, but my head connected with his teeth.
A crack split the air.
Bent over, he howled—that wasn’t what I wanted. My legs wrapped high above his shoulders and climbed him as if he were a tree. My inner elbow twisted around his neck, and he gurgled against my chest and arm. I could feel him trembling for air, so I tightened my hold.
His hand reached up toward my face, but I leaned back, pulling even more. He wasn’t helping his case.
This was taking longer than I wanted. With my free hand, I grabbed the knife hanging from my thin belt and hit his temple.
We tumbled forward, plummeting onto the tower floor. He went limp, and I jumped back on my feet.
I glanced at his still face, wondering if I had, in fact, killed the man. I crouched low and placed my blade up to his nose.
A faint blur appeared in the reflection of the moonlight.
Flipping my dagger, I placed it back on my belt and looked for the—
There it was. My way inside the palace walls. I approached the door and trotted down the staircase, noticing a set of weapons lying on one of the tables at the bottom. After browsing, I opened the door to the courtyard.
Peering through, two warriors passed by, making their way to the opposite side of the gates.
“—a quiet night,” the man to the left commented.
“Enjoy the calm before the storm,” the other warrior responded. “Tomorrow morning, when the Navons all arrive, it’ll be chaos with the festivities later. I’ve heard it’ll be the biggest—”
Their voices faded, but not until I heard they weren’t here this evening.
I was hoping to catch one or two royal family members, slit their throats, and bury their bodies before the event started, and I did it all over again.
How terribly inconvenient.
As soon as they passed, I slid behind trees until I came to one of the palace buildings—the main one, crawling with beautiful jasmine vines.
The front was where royalty and nobles of neighboring countries would see the first glory of its surroundings.
I could tell this was it because I used to live in structures like this.
It was like a city inside a city once you began to explore.
That was before the family residing in this one burned it down and killed mine.
This was where I was to dance tomorrow, where the celebration would take place.
It was hard to see through the moonlight, but that didn’t stop me from climbing through one of the open windows to scout inside.
There was barely any light as I crept through the streets. After a long search within the palace, I had begun my way back to the Khraus. I hadn’t been expecting to find much, but I snuck around and got familiar with it. No man was injured, again, or killed.
I peered down at my hands through my coat. They were bloody and scraped up from sliding down that stupid bark. I tsked. I was going to get an earful from Sorrella.
A rabid cat attacked my hands in my sleep, I would say.
But the strangest thing occurred when I stepped past a quiet tavern, causing me to halt in my tracks. My heart pounded. It couldn’t be.
I skimmed the inside of the tavern for him.
He wouldn’t dare.
“—good to see you again.” He patted a man on the shoulders. “I hope to see you more often.”
“As do I,” the tall, bald, middle-aged man responded with a large grin on his face.
I lowered my hood.
It was him.
I took one step, but then stopped. My heart squeezed. I left him… and here I was fighting the urge to run back to him, if only for a moment.
I let out a breath and entered the tavern.
“Salazar,” I said with a thick emotion I couldn’t recognize.
Salazar spun at the sound of my voice, and his face softened the moment he saw me. “Eshe.”
He hadn’t called me by my name since I was sixteen. He wrapped his arms around me, and I could feel a pressure rising in the back of my throat. His embrace was warm, and my hands grabbed onto his back, not wanting this to end.
“Salazar,” I repeated with incredulity. Pulling myself back to look at his unharmed but sunburnt face, I asked, “What are you doing here? Tell me you didn’t…” I swallowed the pressure down. He never came this far south. “Tell me you didn’t come here for me.”
Salazar turned for a moment and nodded at what looked to be his old friend before the man left us alone. His brows knitted at me. “When you left, I knew where you’d gone—what you were planning to do, and Eshe, I’m telling you—”
“I won’t hear it,” I snapped, pulling myself from the safety of his arms.
“No, but you must!” Salazar insisted. “Come, sit with me. I’m tired. I’ve been traveling for too long to start arguing with you right now.”