High Princess Lolli led me through a maze of dimly lit hallways accented with polished stone. Each security checkpoint bustled with quiet efficiency—scanners beeped, armored guards checked our IDs, and the faint crackle of radios filled the silence between commands. When we finally stepped into the garage, a cloud of heavy air hit, the odor of motor oil, singed metal, and the bite of gunpowder overpowering. The space lived and breathed urgency, the rhythmic whirring of drills blending with the sharp clank of wrenches being used to tighten bolts. Metal scraped against metal, and the unmistakable sound of magazines snapping into place echoed like a drumbeat of war.
Three massive trucks loomed in the center, their exteriors dull with dust and wear. Crates of ammunition and tactical gear covered nearby shelves, an armory on standby. Soldiers worked withmethodical precision, their uniforms rustling as they adjusted straps and checked weapons.
As soon as they noticed High Princess Lolli, the men snapped to attention, their boots striking the concrete. They saluted, then returned to their tasks, hands steady, focus unwavering.
“There are soldiers out there now, creating paths for us,” the princess told me. “When they’re done, we’ll head out. Could be five minutes, could be five hours.” She stopped at an open section with a bank of lockers, straddled a bench, and faced me. “Let’s chat while we’ve got the chance.”
I eased down across from her, struggling to hide my growing apprehension.
She jumped right in. “You are dating our Cyrus.”
I bit my tongue. “I’d argue your use of the wordour, but yes, I’m dating him.” The snippy tone slipped out before I could run it through my Is This Smart filter.
Rather than take offense, she grinned, showcasing perfect pearly whites. Although, it wasn’t amusement I detected in her but, hmm. Nothing. I detected no emotion. “Good to see he still likes his women feisty.”
Okay, that irritated. “Cyrus isn’t a topic I’m willing to chat about.”
“I’m sure you’re disappointed not to be paired with him,” she continued as if I hadn’t spoken, “but he chose to be with Lord Miller. I wouldn’t worry, though. It probably means nothing.” She flashed another cold smile. “I decided to seize my chance to learn more about you.”
I gnashed my teeth. If I knew Cyrus, and I did, he thought he was protecting me in some way. Something we’d be discussing.
“I’ll be straight with you.” She dropped her chin but kept her gaze on me. “I know what you are.”
My stomach twisted into more of those awful knots, but not by word or deed did I reveal it. “Okay. I’ll bite. What am I?”
“What Cyrus is.” She hiked her shoulders in a shrug. “What I am. Which is a recent development, but a development all the same.”
“Okay.” An internal alarm erupted as I tried to process her confession. She couldn’t mean what I thought she meant. That she was a new Soalian and an ally. I would sense it, just as I sensed the other Soalian. While I only distinguished the other sometimes, there was always an underlying knowledge. But here, now, I felt no tug of connection. No beat of familiarity.
This must be a trick. Or another test.
This woman vied for the same exalted position as the high prince. If she could convince me she was on my side, get me to confess to a crime, then pin me as a traitor, she could damage Cyrus’s chance of success.
“You’ll have to elaborate if you’d like me to understand what you’re saying,” I grated.
She canted her head, examining me further. “We are people with an agenda. You seek Cyrus, Cyrus seeks the crown, and I seek what Cyrus can give me. I’ll win him back, I assure you.”
Bile churned in my throat, frothing. “He’s your competition.”
“I have no competition.” She spread her arms, alllook at me. “He respects strength, and I have that in spades. We can rule the kingdoms together. But you ... you are a lamb among wolves. You’ll make a pitiful queen. I just thought you should know so you don’t waste your prime on unattainable dreams.”
More teeth gnashing. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
A grim-faced Domino appeared behind her, stepping from thin air. “There’s a problem,” he said, and I jolted. “The fires Heta mentioned are producing smoke laced with some kind of sedative that affects only recently turned Soalians. As soon as one falls, feeders converge.”
Panic delivered a one-two strike, stealing my breath. “Is there a way to combat it?” I burst out without thought.
Lolli narrowed her eyes. “You did not just bark a question at me.” A pause. She grated, “Combat what?”
I opened my mouth, unsure what to say. A loud buzzer went off, spilling from the intercom system, saving me from having to eke out some kind of apology or explanation.
The princess popped to her feet. I did the same, my heart racing. The other soldiers quickened their pace, rushing to finish loading a truck.
“They’re calling for us,” she said, stalking to a table littered with equipment. “We’ll deal with your insubordination later.” After sheathing a handful of daggers, she jumped up and down, shook out her hands, and touched two fingers to her lips three times before pointing those fingers into the air.
Some kind of good-luck ritual?
I looked to Domino, wide eyed. How was I supposed to avoid an airborne sedative? I couldn’t not breathe.
