Welcome to Twilight
SERAPHAE
The walls of Twilight rose straight from the earth.
They stood taller than any building in Thalvarn.
Fae script, ancient and beautiful, stretched across the entire surface.
If you looked closely, the script wasn’t just poetic nonsense but runes.
Wards that were raised after the sixth bell when the gates closed.
The etchings pulsed blue like a heartbeat.
Vines and flowers in shades of blue, yellow, and white clung to the cracks in the stone.
Whereas in Thalvarn, winter was a cruelty people had to survive, in Primoria it merely kissed.
There was a chill in the air, with the scent of wet stone and frost, cut with whatever florals bloomed in this realm.
It rarely snowed here, and when it did, it was gentle.
Snow only existed heavily in the Kingdom of Winter.
Light spilled in thin ribbons between stones, silver-white and shimmering. Except it wasn't light, but silversap that powered the wards as much as it powered the kingdom.
“Gets me every time,” Xander said with his head tipped back, mouth open like a man who had forgotten how to be subtle.
At the wall’s center stood a massive gate framed in white stone pillars and dark metal etched with sigils that hummed when you stared too long.
A line of people had formed before it. It was strange to look up and find stars where there should have been sun.
The surrounding light didn't change, since the kingdom was charmed to look like daylight.
The stones on the wall were still bright, the armor on the fae soldiers still gleaming. But overhead, the sky was dark.
Impossible was the only word I could think of.
The line moved quickly. Fae soldiers stood in perfect formation beneath the arch, silver armor polished within an inch of intimidation. They wore youth like a coat they'd owned for centuries. The decades didn't show on their faces, but their eyes held the wisdom of them.
Absolutely unfair.
“I heard Twilight is letting humans live here,” Xander said, looking around as if he were considering residency himself.
I snorted. “I heard getting into Crown needs papers, a bribe, and a human sacrifice. I don't think Twilight would pass out citizenship.”
Fae laws had always restricted humans from living within Primoria, though this depended entirely on the kingdom.
Primoria was ruled by King Adonius Vaelor.
He had initially split the land into four kingdoms: Crown, where he ruled from, Winter, Tide, and Verdant.
Twilight was recognized later and was considered the fifth kingdom.
Even though each kingdom had its own laws and customs, each was ultimately under the king’s rule.
He had the right to veto anything and everything.
We walked under the arch and through the wall. The air felt dense with the pressure of old wards, like walking through something that hadn't decided whether to let you pass.
“I'm serious,” Xander continued. “I heard it from someone.”
“Was that before you killed them?”
“Yes,” he admitted. “Very reliable source. Until the end.”
We stood just past the gates and stared, doing a terrible job of looking like we belonged.
Water ran through the city in a canal on one side, reflecting starlight that wasn't technically real. Small bridges arched over it. Gondolas drifted past slowly.
The entire kingdom had been built during the Primorian War. I couldn’t imagine it being anything but beautiful.
At the side of the intersection was a large cauldron, wide and deep. Its dark metal surface was etched with runic patterns of complicated script magic that shimmered from the silversap running through the crevices.
A woman with a parcel tucked under her arm stepped up to it. She said something to the cauldron before dropping the parcel inside.
“If that parcel comes back as a bird, I’m leaving,” Xander said from beside me.
Nothing happened.
The woman walked away the same moment a man walked up. He stood and looked down into the cauldron for a moment before a small parcel shot out and into his arms. He read the tag on it, smiled, and walked away.
“Welcome to Twilight,” I said, pressing Xander’s jaw closed, since he had forgotten how to.
“You know,” he said, plucking a blue flower from a vine beside him. “If Twilight really is accepting humans, you could just live here instead of going south.”
I imagined that. A human living in a fae kingdom sounded like the beginning of a miracle or a very tragic story. I preferred not to be in either.
“I said I wanted freedom.” I took the flower from his hand, twirled it, and let it drop. “Trading one set of dangerous employers for another who are prettier and longer-lived doesn't feel like an upgrade.”
It was easy to tell that Xander and I weren’t fae. The citizens of Twilight could see it. If they got close enough, the evidence was on our skin.
Fae had flawless skin. No blemishes, no spots, no wrinkles.
Xander had a subtle spread of freckles peppered across his cheekbones. I had fine lines between my brows and around my mouth. Barely noticeable unless you looked for them. I blamed Xander. Over a decade of glaring at him for his poor decisions would weather even an immortal.
The imperfections made us human.
I was oddly proud of that.
Two women walked in our direction and didn’t bother hiding their curiosity.
The one with a dark crown braid was blatantly staring at Xander.
She whispered something into the ear of the other, whose eyes bounced between Xander and me as if she were choosing a target.
Then she smacked the braided one playfully before blushing.
Xander flashed a charming smile and a courteous bow that earned a harmonized giggle from them both.
An older man who watched the entire exchange had his face twisted in disgust.
Xander gave him the finger.
The man said something in Primorian that I was sure had been educational.
“Okay.” I yanked Xander’s arm. “We are not doing this.”
Committing a crime in fae territory was unheard of. The reason for that was because no one lived to tell the story. Which reminded me what a wonderful decision it was to take the contract on a fae royal.
We passed a bulletin board crowded with notices.
Warnings about Hollow creatures spotted in the wildlands.
Rewards for catching them. An announcement for a night festival that included masked street performers and wine that I filed away for a different life.
There was a notice that was half ripped, but enough words remained to reach a conclusion.
By Order of the Twilight Crown.
Human. Chartered…employment, or sanctioned…Must register their residency within border…Law.
I tried to steer Xander away from it and failed.
“Ha!” He pointed like he'd won something. “See. Reliable.”
I gestured to the shredded notice. “Seems like the people have mixed feelings about the arrangement.”
His smile stalled.
The eastern quarters opened up to us like organized chaos. It was the most crowded district of Twilight, catering to fae from other kingdoms and Thalvarnans.
This was also the newest part of the kingdom. Everything west of the main road had been there since the borders were established. The eastern quarters had been built in the last fifty years after the treaty was signed.
We moved shoulder to shoulder with the crowd in the narrow street.
In Thalvarn, I would have checked my pockets three times already.
Pickpocketing was apparently too undignified in Primoria.
Children threaded through us in a spurt of giggles.
A sweet scent of freshly baked bread drifted from a bakery close by.
Xander slowed at every shop we walked past.
“Can you focus?” I asked and steered him away from a shop that sold daggers and all things sharp. For a moment, I considered going inside and getting my blade sharpened.
Then I remembered I had a magically charmed one.
“I rarely get to come to Primoria.” He looked over his shoulder wistfully. “I heard they smelted Thalvarn steel with fae metals to make something unbreakable. Strong enough to cut stone.”
“I doubt it,” I said. “The fae may have their silversap, but Thalvarn has the best siegecraft and forges.”
Otherwise, the war would have been lost. Then again, if our siegecraft hadn’t been so advanced and our forges so powerful, the late King Tarvin would not have been so ambitious.
We found an inn closest to the Cliffhouse where the prince lived.
The room was twice the size of the nicest inn in Thalvarn.
The ceiling was high enough that sound echoed in the space.
The walls were covered in burgundy wallpaper with gold foil vines and florals.
A large window faced the cliffs. Even the bedding was remarkable.
The linen was so soft it seemed unreasonable.
A span of cliffs rose over the city in the distance.
Somewhere on those cliffs was the prince’s estate.
It was at least fourth bell. I imagined that he’d be finishing court or whatever a ruler usually spent his days doing.
He’d be settling in for his main meal soon.
Hopefully, it would be a bountiful meal with wine at least. I planned on doing the same.
Because one of us wouldn’t get another after tomorrow.
I stood at the window a moment longer while Xander talked to himself about the two fae women from the market earlier. Beyond the cliffs lay the snow-tipped mountains of the Kingdom of Winter. Another fae prince. I wondered briefly if someone had a contract on him, too.
Xander appeared next to me, and we looked out the window together.
“Maybe you should let me do it,” he said.
“You’re not bad to look at, but I doubt you’d be able to seduce the prince.”
“Fair.” He folded his arms. “But I can do it the old-fashioned way.”
Xander slipped wards and evaded guards better than anyone in the syndicate.
Wards were raised by anchor points and powered by a source such as silversap.
Script magic provided instructions that told the wards what to do.
He didn’t break wards, as that would leave evidence.
Slipping them required finding gaps and weak points caused by negligence during the casting.
There were always gaps in the pattern. The same way that guard rotations always had gaps.
His magic certainly helped, but he was good at reading them both regardless.
“I can teach you again.” Xander sat on the edge of the bed. “You just need to be patient. Every time I teach you, you’re always—“
“No, thank you.”
Wards weren’t something that was taught by the Obsidian Hand. We were taught bladework, poisons, and the art of escape. Xander had picked it up on his own after tripping wards and spending enough time in Thalvarn dungeons that the guards knew his name.
I was better with the blade. Faster than Xander at taking out a problem entirely. Xander solved the problem by not letting the problem notice him.
He kicked off his boots and rolled onto his side to face me.
“Why do you think Twilight opens its gates every year just for the masquerade?” he asked, focused with the look of someone running through possibilities.
Usually, getting into Twilight for humans meant needing a reason to be there, along with enough paperwork to make you reconsider.
“Could be strategic,” I answered, untying my boots. “The prince collects contracts like fine wine. If I were him, I’d offer an opportunity for an attempt. Make it predictable.”
“So he’s expecting you tomorrow,” he said flatly.
“Probably.”
“And we’re still doing this.”
“We don’t have a choice.”
I let that land where it should.
The gold dagger rested on the nightstand beside me. The twin serpents on the hilt curved toward each other as if they knew something I didn’t.
I stared at it longer than I should have before tucking it under my pillow.
Emotional support came in many forms. Mine happened to be sharp knives.
Tomorrow, I either retired rich or died dramatically. There was no middle ground. No third option was waiting for me.
The prince or the assassin. One of us was going to have a bad evening.