Page 60 of Kingdom Of Veil And Vow

My eyes snap to his at the mention of my scars, our steps forced to a halt when the king stops to speak with some passing noblewomen. My heart races beneath my ribs, Jerrick’s perfectly chosen words hitting their mark. Jerrick just happened to be in the infirmary when I was brought in after what the king did that night.

What would Siyala think if she saw them? I push the unhelpful thought away as the king resumes his walking. It’s not like she’d ever see them.

“It’s fascinating that you spend so much time trying to goad me considering you know exactly how thoroughly I can kick your ass.”

He growls low in his throat, prompting King Dolian to look over his shoulder. Jerrick relaxes, keeping his strides even despite the anger I can feel brimming in him. He waits until the king turns back around before saying, “You’ll get what’s coming to you, Xander, mark my words.”

Normally, I’d celebrate the challenge in his voice and the false promise of his words, but today, they burrow like another arrow fired into my chest. It feels as if the stakes surrounding me have never been higher, and I am terrified I won’t be the one to pay the price if everything comes crashing down.

The dining hall is filled with high-ranking guards and nobles, their cheery, alcohol-induced laughter scraping like nails along my back. The king lounges lazily to my left at the head of the table, a chalice of cherry wine constantly in his grasp. He spends most of his time speaking with Simon seated across from me, the advisor casting me glances with his beady little eyes every so often. Next to him is Commander Miles and then Jerrick, the two in near nonstop conversation as well. To my own right is Alden, who has only managed to speak two words in deference to the king all evening. Though he glares at Miles and Jerrick impressively, there’s something unsettling about his presence as well. But given the choice between him and the commander, I would still choose Alden to fill the open role, so I force my doubts about him down until they are no longer a worry in my mind.

Simon grabs his chalice and taps his knife against it, the chattering coming to a hush as he stands. “Ladies and gentlemen, it is an honor to have the best of our kingdom gathered before our great king in celebration of those who have made it to the final round of the trials of the Trusted.” A gentle clap breaks out, and the king grins at the attention, lifting his own chalice in recognition. “King Dolian has spent his entire life in dedication to this kingdom. Each choice he makes is for its betterment, of that you can always be sure.” More claps, a few shouting out their allegiance. I grip my fork more tightly, avoiding drinking tonight with the memory of the first Trusted trial tied to this room. “To Commander Miles and Alden. May the gods favor the one of you most fit to protect our king.”

Those at the table drink to that, and then a band is brought in and the food abandoned when most of the attendees stand as a partition in the room is pushed back, revealing an open dance floor on the other side. Staring down at my plate, I contemplate the appropriate amount of time I can wait before excusing myself when movement catches my eye. Glancing up, I watch Miles and Jerrick stand from the table and leave. When I look back to their seats, I find Simon already looking at me.

“Do you have a question, Simon?” I ask as I lean my elbows on the table, setting my fork down on my plate. A nobleman grabs the king’s attention, the two talking to my left.

“How is the interrogation of the shifter coming?” he asks, mirroring my position as he sets his chalice down on the table.

“She has spoken about the princess at length, but the information given hasn’t proven useful yet.”

“A shame,” Simon muses, finger tracing the edge of his chalice. “One might have thought that seeing an example of what will happen should she continue keeping her thoughts to herself would have spurred her into speaking more freely.” I hold myself still, unwilling to let the bastard read me. “In any case, sometimes, all it takes is a fresh pair of eyes to see things that were otherwise hidden. Things that, perhaps, someone of a softer mettle might have missed. Take Commander Miles, for example. He came to me just this morning with some ideas on how he might get the female to more willingly share.”

Arching my brow, I tilt my head slowly, while inside, my heart beats furiously at the mention of Siyala. All he has to do is get the king to agree to send him to her, and there won’t be a damn thing I can do about it. Not unless I’m willing to risk exposing what I’ve been building all of these years. “Are you claiming that I can’t do what the king has commanded of me? Because we both know how eager I can be to prove someone wrong, especially when it comes to matters regarding the king and my loyalty to him.”

“Of course not, Xander.” He raises his chalice in my direction, the curve of his smile devious. “Long live the king and all of those who support him. May you soon find the shifter much more… malleable than before.” He drinks by himself, turning to speak with the king once the nobleman has left.

“It seems I am not the only one who is questioning your methods, Xander,” Alden says at my side, his gaze locked on those dancing beyond us.

Fucking gods above. My patience is wearing thin. “I thought we squashed this, Alden,” I say, taking my napkin from my lap and dropping it onto the table. When he doesn’t say anything in response, I stand, pushing my chair in before leaning down so that only he can hear me. “If you can’t handle what it takes to be a Trusted without risking the resistance, then tell me right now.”

His eyes flick to mine, narrowing just slightly. “I won’t ever risk the resistance. My goals are as they always have been.” A quick look at the king. “I want him to pay with his life for what he’s done.”

“Good. As do I.” Righting myself, my eyes scan the mingling bodies, finding Jerrick with Silas and Von, Miles not among them. “I’m going to consider this matter dropped. Don’t make me resort to something harsher than a conversation if you bring it up again.”

I expect relief to wash over me as I stand to leave, pushing through the double doors and entering the hall, but instead, all I feel is exposed. As if I’m being watched by many sets of eyes. I pass through streams of silver moonlight where it spills in from tall windows on my left, the late hour teasing a yawn at the back of my throat. The urge to see Siyala quickens my steps as I contemplate if it’s too late to make my way to the dungeon. Our last conversation has played in my head since I saw her last, taunting me with the image of her profile as she spoke to me. The rush of blood that tainted her cheeks when I asked if she wanted to kiss Flynn. The embarrassing jealousy that had tangled in my stomach at the mere prospect.

Rolling my shoulders back, I decide that I will check in with Tienne first. The servant’s quarters are busy because of the dinner, but I manage to squeeze past them in the hall as I force my way into the kitchens, looking for my friend. When I do a visual sweep of the entire place three times without spotting her, I grab the attention of another maid passing with a tray of sweets. “Have you seen Tienne?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Xander. Tienne hasn’t been feeling well and needed to go lay down. She left shortly after the commander came for a meal.” She moves to keep going, her brow scrunching when I step in front of her again.

“I’m sorry, which commander?”

She scrunches her freckle-dotted nose. “Commander Miles, I believe. I’m sorry, I must get this out to the table.”

Stepping aside, I let her pass, my mind whirling. Why would Commander Miles come for a meal when he just left the dinner we were at? Exiting the kitchen, I run a hand through my hair, worry for Tienne mixing with my confusion about the commander.

And then Simon’s words from dinner push to the forefront of my mind. I stop mid-step in the hall, a servant nearly running into me as cold seeps into my veins. What if the meal wasn’t for him?

“Shit.” I launch into a sprint, terror nipping at my heels. Siyala. Miles went to interrogate Siyala.

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Siyala

It is happening again. The thought is all I can muster as I look through half-closed eyes at the commander kneeling in front of me, his hands securing my wrists to the wooden armrests. Pain filters in steadily, coming in waves, each one stronger than the last. But I’m unable to move away from them. I’m unable to move at all.

“Not so feisty now, are you, little kit?” he asks, light eyes looking up to meet mine.

His body splits into two and then three, settling back into one as I blink slowly. Gods above, what is wrong with me?