Chapter 23
Aiden
Two years ago . . .
One more hour. One last meeting. One final death. And then Rellmira would be safe.
I paced the dirt floor of the abandoned warehouse.
The stale air still smelled like the barrels of wine Melaena’s merchant friend used to store.
Now the floor-to-ceiling shelves stood like skeletons against the wall.
Nothing else inhabited this building, save for the lone torch I lit while I waited.
I’d burned all of Brielle’s maps of the palace and her scribbled notes about her husband’s routines and guard rotations the moment I memorized them. I never wanted to leave any evidence of a meeting in case someone searched the building.
The thick wooden door swung open, and a hooded figure slipped inside.
I breathed a sigh of relief, my feet finally able to stand still.
She latched the door and slid the heavy crossbar over it before facing me. “Aiden.”
I dipped my head. “Brielle.” From our very first meeting, she’d refused to hear me call her by a queenly title.
“I didn’t see Maz on lookout,” she said, tucking some of her golden hair into her hood.
“Late shipment for Melaena. I insisted he go. The dock master has been skittish lately. I paid a stable boy to keep watch. He’ll whistle if he sees anything.”
She nodded, her blue eyes troubled as they darted from my face to the barred door.
I tensed again. “Problem?”
It’d been several months since we’d last met, but that wasn’t unusual since we could only meet on the Four’s feast days.
Brielle shook her head quickly, almost as if to shake off whatever thought nagged her rather than assure me.
“A position opened up, at last,” she said, limping a little as she moved toward me.
I scowled, sweeping my gaze from her covered head to her simple white dress—a nod to Viridana—and her dainty silk slippers. She was favoring her left ankle.
“What happened?” I demanded. “Did he hurt you again?”
Her pale cheeks flushed. “No. When I climbed out the Temple window, I landed badly.” She gestured to her slippers. “I couldn’t find my boots. Weylin had already started dinner, and I didn’t want to keep you waiting.”
My conscience twitched for the thousandth time. The risks she was taking. My mother probably wouldn’t approve of what I was asking her best friend to do. I hated it, too . . . but it was the only way.
“Did you hear what I said about the position?” She slid a bag out from under her cloak. “A gardener. I managed to get the uniform as well.”
Hope rekindled in my chest as I reached for the violet uniform she handed me. I rubbed my thumb over the Rellmiran crest stitched over the chest—a half sun rising over a shadowed moon.
“It’s not too late, Aiden,” she whispered.
I jerked my gaze up.
“After Weylin’s gone, you could still be king,” she continued in a rush. “It’s what your mother would’ve wanted. Your father, too.”
My fingers curled into the stiff uniform. “I doubt my parents—or anyone else in Rellmira—would want an assassin for their king.”
Her mouth formed a grim line. “It’s no worse than what Weylin did to them.”
“Perhaps not. But then I would be no better than him, stabbing my way to the throne. I’m here to right a wrong and put the crown on your head. That’s what we decided, Brielle.”
She clasped her hands in front of her, the dirt under her fingernails at odds with her status.
“I feel as though nothing I do can atone for what happened to Rhea and Tristan,” she said. “And to you.”
I squeezed one of her small shoulders. “It’s not your crime to pay for.”
She closed her eyes. “I wish things had been different. I wish you had grown up alongside my son as Rhea and I always dreamed our children would.” Her shoulders trembled. “I miss her.”
My heart grew cold. I couldn’t miss someone I’d never known. That life had been stolen from me by Renwell’s arrow and the knife that Brielle always carried in her belt.
“Courage, Brielle,” I murmured. “It’s almost over. Remember the plan.”
She nodded, stiffening her spine. My hand fell away. When she looked at me, I glimpsed the queen I’d first met at the Temple.
She’d agreed wholeheartedly with my plan to kill her husband. She knew, better than most, what sort of monster sat on the throne. What he had done to get it and what he had done to keep it.
My parents’ murders and the subsequent lies of succession. The massacre in Pravara and the executions in Aquinon during the rebellion. The mistreated—and often innocent—prisoners in the sunstone mine.
All for a throne he’d stolen.
It needed to end. And Brielle and I had come up with the perfect way to smuggle me into the heart of the palace. I was going to kill him and escape, leaving Brielle to take up the crown and piece Rellmira back together.
“The head housekeeper, Gilda, is expecting you,” Brielle said. “She knows how particular I am about the gardens, so she didn’t question me too much when I told her I’d found someone to replace the old gardener.”
“Excellent. I’ll report for work tomorrow and use her name to get across the bridge.”
Brielle nodded, her gaze darting once more to the door.
Dread curdled in my gut. “What aren’t you telling me? Do you think someone followed you?”
“No. I always adhere to the routine you gave me. Walk at different speeds. Take extra turns. Loop back. I . . . I just . . .” Her throat bobbed. “I think Renwell is getting suspicious.”
My dread flared into fear. Renwell—the man who’d hunted down People’s Council sympathizers and whose Shadow-Wolves I’d been dodging since I’d arrived in Aquinon.
“Why do you think that?” I bit out. “Has he said anything to you?”
“No. But . . . he caught me in his study a month ago.”
I crushed the uniform in my fist. “Gods damn it, Brielle. What were you doing in there?”
She lifted her chin, a steely glint in her eyes. “I wanted to find more evidence of the horrors he and Weylin are carrying out in the Calimber mine. I heard there were children working in that gods-forsaken hole. Children, Aiden.”
“I know,” I growled. I hadn’t told her much of my time in the sunstone prison, but I’d seen those horrors with my own eyes. I still saw them in my nightmares. “But what did he do when he discovered you?”
“I played the simple, dutiful woman and claimed I was looking for a piece of paper and ink to leave him a note, asking whether he would join us for our special Viridana’s dinner tonight.”
I winced. “Did he believe you?”
Contempt hardened Brielle’s face. “I never know with Renwell. That man could lie to the gods themselves and get away with it. He also refused my invitation, so I don’t know where he is right now.”
This time it was me who glanced at the door, then around the empty warehouse. Nothing stirred. I also hadn’t heard a whistle from outside.
Brielle said she hadn’t been followed, and yet . . . I felt it, too. A wrongness. A prickle at the back of my neck.
Gods damn it, I shouldn’t have made Maz go to the docks.
“You should leave,” I said. “Get back to the Temple before your guards question the Teachers. I’ll follow to make sure no one else is.”
Brielle nodded, then hesitated before resting her palm against my unshaven cheek. “If we don’t speak again, I want to thank you, Aiden. For letting me know my husband didn’t kill my best friend’s son. And for helping me fight for my family’s—and our kingdom’s—freedom. Thank you,” she whispered.
I swallowed hard against the knot of guilt in my throat. I didn’t deserve her gratitude. I’d done nothing but lose more lives since I’d started fighting back.
But I only needed one more. Weylin’s.
Brielle led me to the door. Just as the latch started rising.
We both froze.
The latch continued to glide upward. The door creaked as someone pushed it from the other side. But the crossbar held firm.
Slowly, I grasped Brielle’s arm and dragged her behind me. She shook like a leaf in a storm, her mouth clamped shut.
“Brielle,” said a deep, deadly cold voice.
Brielle let out a low moan of terror, her nails digging into my arm. “It’s Renwell,” she gasped. “Holy Four, he found me.”
Gods damn it, why didn’t the stable boy warn us? Unless Renwell had found him first.
My heart beat frantically as I hauled her away from the door. The only door.
Something crashed against it, making Brielle jump.
“I know you’re in there, Brielle,” came Renwell’s voice again. “I know what you’ve been doing. Is your new gardener in there as well?”
Fucking Four. His words were like matches that set fire to our plans. Years. Gone.
Rage filled me. I tossed aside the useless uniform and unsheathed one of my blades. “Stay here, Brielle. Don’t come out until he’s dead.”
“Aiden, no, he’ll—”
“Don’t try to escape,” Renwell commanded. “I have a dozen of my Wolves surrounding this building. Things will get a lot bloodier if we have to chase you.”
Shit. If he was telling the truth, I wouldn’t be able to fight my way out. And he was blocking the only exit. Unless . . .
I glared at the hatch in the roof. It was little more than a window to let in light, but we could fit if I made the hole bigger. I had my knives, a few fireseeds, and the torch. I could make that work.
I sheathed my knife and dragged Brielle over to the towering shelves. I laced my fingers together, forming a foothold. “I’ll boost you up as high as I can, then—”
She stepped away from me, shaking her head.
Something dark and frantic sank its claws into my chest. “Brielle, don’t—”
Another crash echoed, making her wince. “I can’t run, Aiden.”
“Yes, you can,” I growled. “Even if I have to strap you to my back.”
She took another step backward, closer to the groaning door. “He knows about me. Which means Weylin knows. It’s over.”
“No, it’s not. I’ll hide you where he’ll never find you. I’ll get you out of Aquinon.”
She smiled sadly. “You can’t save me, Aiden, but I can still save you, as I should’ve done all those years ago.” She withdrew the gold-hilt sunstone knife Weylin had sunk into my father’s back. “Go. Before he sees you.”
Understanding sliced through my mind like lightning. I seized her knife hand, keeping the blade well away from her.
“Don’t do this, please.” My voice shook. “Don’t give up. If not for me, then for your children.”
All the color leached from her face, and she sagged in my grip. “I’m doing this for them. Weylin warned me, years ago, what he would do to them if I betrayed him. He . . . he had my daughter beaten in front of me just to prove his point. I can’t . . . I won’t be the reason he hurts them.”
Another crash and the sound of wood splintering reverberated through the room. But my gaze never wavered from hers.
I was failing. Again. Someone else was going to die because of me. Again.
I gripped her hand tighter. “I’m not letting you go.”
Tears trembled in her blue eyes and tumbled down her cheeks. “They’ll torture me, Aiden. Then they’ll hurt my children. And I’ll tell them everything I know about you to keep that from happening.”
I drew in a ragged breath. “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill them all for this.”
“I always told you it would be Weylin’s death or mine.
I just never thought . . .” She closed her eyes as more tears fell between us.
For a moment, her face crumpled with pain.
“I should’ve said goodbye. My son. My daughters.
I’ll miss the rest of their lives. I had so many things I wanted to do with them.
So many words I’ll never get to say. Yet this is how it ends. ”
The world felt muffled and hollow. As did my chest. My fingers grew numb around hers.
She slowly aimed the knife at her heart. The tip wavered, scraping her skin. Whether from my trembling or hers, I couldn’t tell.
“Please, Aiden,” she whispered. “Please. Help me.”
Her words clapped against my eardrums like thunder. I immediately resisted. The darkest request. An act that would stain my soul. Make my heart a stranger. I would never be free of this moment.
“It’s mercy, Aiden. Please. I can’t do it myself.”
Somewhere, in another world, glittering black knives, like the one I held with Brielle, stabbed through the door.
But I wouldn’t let them have her.
“May the gods find your soul.”
Brielle smiled tremulously, cupping my cheek once more. “Tell my children I love them.”
I wanted to close my eyes. But I couldn’t dishonor her by hiding. I tried to ignore the sensation of piercing her delicate flesh, of the quick drive home.
But my hand would not forget. My ears would forever ring with her last desperate breath. My heart would never forgive me for stabbing hers.
Her hand fell away from my cheek. Her blood flowed over my hands. Shaking in pure agony, I threw my head back and roared.
For a moment, the world grew still. The crashes stopped.
I gently laid her on the dirt floor. She deserved so much better than this. I brushed her eyes closed over her final tears.
I whispered my last promise to her and rose to my feet. I stared at the splintered door as if from a great distance as Renwell and his dogs attacked it anew.
Clutching the thin torch in my teeth, I hauled myself up shelf after shelf. Away from her, but still covered in her blood.
With numb fingers, I plucked a fireseed from my pocket and nestled it in the wooden frame of the window.
I shielded my face as I held the torch to it. Heat exploded around my hand, but I didn’t let go. I hacked at the weakened wood with my knife until I’d made a jagged hole large enough for my shoulders.
A loud crash echoed below as the door crumbled to bits and shadows poured in. Against all my instincts, I hesitated. I needed to see him—the man who’d already stolen so much.
Renwell’s dark eyes and pale face gazed up at me.
Without thinking, I released the rest of my precious fireseeds, and as they bounced down the dusty shelves, I threw down the torch.
Flames howled to life, devouring the connection between us.
I dragged my body through the hole, ignoring the tears in my clothes and flesh, and climbed onto the roof. My body remembered how to slide over the warm tiles and hurtle itself over gaps between buildings.
But inside, I stitched every moment, every feeling, into the fabric of my mind so I would never forget this either.
Because one day . . .