With a slow breath, I straightened and angled my chin high. Noc slid his arm around my waist and put a lazy smile on display. Oz and Kost wore disinterested expressions, and as we approached the open ivory gates, not a single Sentinel glanced our direction. We joined the line of Wilheimians entering the city and kept our lips sealed. And then we were in. No warning flares or sudden shouts from the guards. Just happy laughter and mundane conversation from the locals. Oz stuck close to my open side, and Kost fell into step beside Noc.
Kost leaned close and offered a false grin. “We’re in the clear.”
Noc let out a quiet laugh as if Kost had just said something amusing. “For now. Follow my lead.”
With Noc’s warm hand on my hip and the security of Oz beside me, I took in Wilheim’s splendor for the first time in my life. Glimmering bricks of salmon, daffodil, and tangerine made up the palette for the buildings. Roofs of all different shapes were covered in gardens, with vibrant greens spilling over windows and giving birds a place to nest. Waterways with crystal streams divided a maze of marble pathways, and slow-moving canoes leisurely paddled in the still waters. Trees with pink blossoms were planted at every intersection, and despite the winter chill, not a single petal dropped from the smooth white branches.
“Queen’s Heart,” Noc said. His gaze followed mine to the closest tree. “They say Adeline, Mavis’s mother, planted the first one after her daughter’s death. They’ve been growing steadily ever since with no signs of dying out.”
“Gorgeous.” My voice was barely a whisper.
Noc pinned me with his stare. “Yes.” After a long moment, his gaze swept away, tripping over shops and people. A dark shadow flickered through his eyes, and his hand on my waist tightened a fraction.
“Noc.” I placed my hand over his. “Do you miss this? Miss home?”
He let out a dismissive grunt, but there was a slight tightening of his jaw. “This isn’t home. Home is Cruor. And right now, getting us through here safely and back is all I care about.”
I couldn’t bring myself to believe him. I knew how badly it had hurt to be cast away from Hireath, to lose the people and home I’d always known. Even if his family was gone, there were still memories here. Perhaps a childhood friend lingering on a street corner, or a battle-scarred brother from the royal army who he’d shared life-threatening moments with. Noc may have been hesitant to admit it, but I could see the masked longing. The way he shifted, the slight pain flickering in the dark depths of his gaze. How often he forced himself to swallow. The ever-increasing pressure from his fingers on my hip.
It was one thing to bury the past and walk away, but when the truth resurfaced, there was no denying every unraveling, unspoken feeling that came with it. Anyone would come undone.
We continued down the marble paths until they opened to a wide, circular courtyard with fresh-cut lawns. White rosebushes drenched in crystals tossed blinding light into the air, and an elegant tiered fountain showered the area in a fine spray of mist. On the highest layer, a man carved out of stone kneeled with his crowned head tucked to his chest. With one arm over his heart and the other pressed flat to the ground, he was the complete picture of reverence.
“The First King.” Noc paused, and Kost and Oz stalled a few feet away. “Receiving his blessing from the gods.”
I came up empty for words, and instead basked in the silence. Noc didn’t seem to mind. Endless gaze locked on the hand over the man’s heart, he didn’t move. Didn’t speak. An angry muscle feathered down his neck and spasmed through his shoulders. After a beat, he pulled himself away.
Squeezing his hand, I drew his attention. “Are you okay?”
“Zane’s blood runs in my veins.” His brow twitched. “That was his father. I…I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like I can feel his displeasure.”
Alarm bells crashed in my head. On our way here, he’d recounted what happened at Oslo’s Ruins. About the vision of a gleaming snake and the questions Oslo asked. Noc assured me that he didn’t want to rule, that he had no intention of rewriting history like the gods seemed to want him to do. But I was beginning to wonder if the gods would take no for an answer.
I bit the inside of my cheek. “Should you really be going to Silvis’s Ruins, then? We can go alone. We don’t need—”
“Noc.” Kost strolled toward us with Oz, feigning nonchalance, but the stiffness of his gait and rigid length of his spine set my nerves on fire. “We need to move. Now.”
All traces of another man’s anger disappeared from Noc’s face. Calculating eyes swept through the crowd. “What is it?”
Oz minutely tilted his head to the left. “Darrien.”
A brief flicker of shock, followed by ire, dominated Noc’s face before he schooled it back to indifference. My heart plummeted to my feet. We’d guessed at Darrien’s knowledge, but to see him here, lingering in the open mouth of one of the many walkways spilling into the courtyard, was more than jarring. Hope of getting through the city unnoticed took a nosedive, and I clenched Noc’s hand tight.
Darrien leaned against a building with a cocky grin. With his brown hair oiled and slicked back, his curls caught on the lip of his high-necked tunic. He was dressed in Wilheimian clothing saturated in greens and gold. Errant hints of shadows drifted from the hems of his pants. A handful of men and women, including Quintus, appeared beside him. Their shadows dispersed, sending nearby locals skittering away with anxious glances over their shoulders.
“Dressed like a Wilheimian and blatantly displaying his powers.” Kost’s nostrils flared. “You know what this means.”
Noc’s jaw was tight. “It means he works fast. The king wouldn’t let Darrien loiter here if he didn’t have something to offer.” Noc tilted his chin my direction, and worry fractured his stoic stare. “We must remain unseen. If Darrien’s claims are validated and you’re here with me…”
Death or a bargaining chip. He didn’t need to say it for me to understand. There was also the matter of my newfound position as Council member, which could be seen as Noc striking an alliance with Hireath. Unease prickled along my skin. “What do we do?”
Grasping my hand, Noc turned his back on the traitor. “Walk away. Don’t draw attention to ourselves.”
The four of us crossed the courtyard as one, our pace toeing the gap between a brisk walk and an all-out sprint. The dull city sounds were suddenly too loud, each peal of laughter or vendor call a screeching alarm. Prying eyes lingered too long on our forms, and I was convinced that they knew. My heart slammed against my ribs. We’d never make it. The winding offshoot of a marble pathway grew closer, and the stacked buildings with hidden alleys promised reprieve from the open eyes of the square. Our feet ate the distance away, and Noc’s hand slackened a fraction in mine.
He kept his voice low. “We’re fine. We’ll loop around and—”
An explosion of onyx shadows erupted before us. Thick tendrils shot outward like vines, crawling across the street and stretching toward our feet. Darrien stepped out of the plume with a wicked grin.
