Page 54 of Bride of Ash & Dust

“The gods only know,” I say. “And until we figure it out, the more distance between your brother and Malrik, the better.”

She sighs. It’s sharp and hard, the sound of someone who’s used to being disappointed.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, thinking of Petrys. Of Gerrart.

She shakes her head again. When she looks at me, her eyes are hard and sharp.

“I’ll send him the message,” she says.

Her mouth opens again, but she hesitates. A rooster screams from somewhere behind her, voicing his displeasure with the way things are progressing in his little kingdom.

“Thank you,” Lilias finally says, in a much lower voice. “For telling me.”

I nod, not quite trusting myself to speak. She stares at me, then at the long shadows growing before the garden walls.

“I should probably go back by myself,” she says, almost under her breath. “Right?”

“Can you find your way?” I ask.

She nods.

“Then yes,” I say. “The less you’re seen with me, the better.”

She opens her mouth, like she’s about to say something, then closes it again. A moment later, she’s moving away from me, her cloak fluttering across the path. She seems smaller, somehow, as she enters the shadows of the garden. Smaller and lonelier.

Somehow, Gerrart rises in my mind again. I remember the way he cried after I first confronted him about the godsdamned drugs.

“I hate this place,” he screamed at me. “It’s nothing like home!”

And I slapped him. He stared at me in shock, tears streaming down his cheeks, his eyes wide. He looked smaller too, in that moment. Small and alone.

Gods, how I hate that memory.

“Shit,” I mutter to the growing shadows.

I still can’t see the shape of Malrik’s plans. And I’ve lived here long enough to know how dangerous it is to stumble through the dark in this palace.

Chapter 30

Lilias

TELL ME

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

Anura just shakes her head. We’re in the garden, sitting next to the big fountain with the fox on top. The light spilling from the colorful windows on the second floor barely reaches this little clearing. I walked all the way around this little clearing before we sat down, making sure we were alone.

Some part of me realized that’s a trick I learned from the snake, making sure no one is watching from the shadows. Gods, it must be exhausting to live like that.

Maybe that’s why he prefers the brothel.

“No, I understand,” Anura finally says. “I’ll do it. I’ll tell him not to come.”

She sits up straighter and wipes her eyes with the back of her sleeve.

“I miss him too,” I say. I can’t stand the look in her eyes, so I turn to stare at my own fingers as they twist in my lap. “I’m sorry we’re not together now. I’m sorry you had to come to this horrible place.”

The vehemence in my voice stops me. I’m supposed to hide my feelings, damn it. No wonder my father said I should have been born a milkmaid.