Aran smiled. That same infuriating, unbothered smile he always wore when he knew something I didn’t.
“You only need to know one thing about fancy people and fancy places, Kera,” he said, reaching into his coat and pulling out his little leather pouch. He gave it a shake, and it clinked softly in his hand.
“They never turn down money.”
I wasn’t up for a debate, so I let him convince me.Just leave it to me,he’d said. Fine. If he wanted to take the lead, be my guest. But the moment we stepped inside, I knew we didn’t belong. It felt like crossing a line we weren’t meant to see, let alone step over. The marble floor gleamed beneath my boots, polished so clean I could see my reflection in it. The walls shimmered with veins of gold, lit by sconces shaped like wings. Somewhere deeper inside, a piano played something slow and unfamiliar.
Will brushed his fingers against mine, and I hadn’t realized I was trembling until then.
“Have you ever seen anything like this?” Will whispered.
I shook my head. I hadn’t. Not even close.
Aran didn’t hesitate. He walked straight to the counter like he belonged there, like he was one of the fancy men in polished suits and shiny shoes. He leaned casually against the dark wood and gave the man behind the counter his most charming smile.
“We’d like your most expensive suite,” Aran said, clear and confident. “One night.”
I wasn’t even sure how he knew what a hotel was, or how to act in one. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he just pretended to know everything. Bluffed his way through life.
The man behind the counter responded in formal Alévi, in words I didn’t quite understand, but the tone was enough. Polite. Detached. Unimpressed. Aran’s smile didn’t drop, but it dimmed.
“Big room,” he said again, slower this time. “Three guests. One night.”
Still nothing.
The man raised one hand, gestured slightly toward us, and spoke a single word. One I did understand.
“Documentation?”
Documentation. Of course. That’s how it worked. You needed papers to prove who you were, permits to cross borders. Seals and signatures, names.
I thought of the father we’d seen at The Wall, desperate, red-faced, waving a crumpled paper at the guards while his child wept beside him. That man hadproof. A reason. A name.
We didn’t have that.
Ididn’t have anything.
How could they not see that? In their polished uniforms and starched collars, their perfume and their pinned-up hair, didn’t they know that people like us… didn’thaveanything?
The heat started to rise behind my eyes, not from tears, just pressure. Shame. Rage. Panic. Then, by the grace of the gods, or maybe just luck, a woman slid into view. She wore a lilac cross-shoulder dress, and her dark hair was pinned back with something iridescent that caught the light when she tilted her head. She didn’t rush. Didn’t raise her voice.
“Vestoni?” she asked.
My breath caught. Of course she knew. It was probably written all over us—our clothes, our accents, the dirt under our fingernails. I didn’t even know if the border was closed because Alevé wanted to keep us out… Or because the king wanted to keep us in. I wasn’t sure which was worse.
I suppose what we’d donewasa crime. And criminals deserved prison. But I didn’t feel like a criminal. I hadn’t killed for power or gold. I hadn’t crossed the sea to conquer. Everything I’d done, I’d done to survive. Because there was no other choice. Because if I hadn’t done it, I wouldn’t still be standing. That had to count for something, right?
My mind raced ahead of her words, already seeing it unfold, guards bursting through the door, cold metal at my wrists, the sea pulling me back across to Vestance. Delivered into King Devore’s hands like a traitor, then torn apart by his Vultures.
I didn’t want to kill anyone else. I didn’t want more blood on my hands. But would I, if I had to?
Could I?
The woman continued, taking our silence as confirmation. “No papers, I assume?”
I didn’t answer. Didn’t even lift my head. My eyes stayed on the polished floor, on my own reflection, pale and ruined and out of place. I couldn’t even bring myself to nod.
“No worries,” the woman said, her accent bending the words slightly. “We make exception.”
