Page 116 of Queen of War and Ruin

I smile. And we start walking. The gravel of the path crunches beneath our feet. I wince at the sound. It seems very loud against the low thrum of the music drifting out of the brightly lit windows.

My heart almost stops when we pass the first couple, a man and a woman holding hands and whispering as they walk. Petrys tilts his head. I try desperately to smile. And then they’re gone, following the path behind us, and I finally remember to breathe.

The windows of the ballroom still feel like they’re very far away. We have to walk the length of the ballroom, then turn and continue through the gardens to reach the stables.

Gods above. I feel like it’s going to take us a thousand years to make it that far.

Every burst of applause from the palace’s grand windows, every break in the faint, distant music, makes me jump. I’m sure we’re about to hear screaming, then men rushing into the garden with their swords drawn. The longer we can go without raising an alarm, the better, Petrys said. But surely the men guarding Zarek’s cage will notice he’s gone?

The closer we get to the ballroom, the more people there are in the garden. I feel like my heart is going to explode every time someone approaches us. Petrys smiles and nods, returning pleasantries and walking slowly, like he has all the time in the world.

No, like he’s trapped here. Like he’d rather be somewhere else, but he’s stuck with the noblewoman in the huge dress who’s wandering the gardens with a panicked grin plastered onto her face.

I force myself to breathe, then turn to stare through the windows. We’re close enough to the ballroom now that I can see the men and women on the other side of the glass. I watch light sparkle off the jewels around a woman’s neck and catch on her glass of wine. The man beside her whispers into her ear, and she throws her head back to laugh.

It’s like watching people living in another world. We walk past that window, and I glance in the next. Elegant bodies move across the dance floor, weaving in and out, following the steps of a dance I vaguely recognize. I think I learned that one. I could probably fake it, at least.

And then my body goes cold.

Blayne. He stalks the edge of the dance floor, scowling at the men and women swaying to the music. He’s glaring at the dancers, examining them like he’s trying to find something he lost. The song ends, and everyone applauds.

Everyone but Blayne. He turns away from the dance floor and walks past the window, his eyes hard above his frown.

“Oh no,” I whisper.

I don’t realize I’ve stopped walking until Petrys brushes his fingers against my arm.

“What’s wrong?” he whispers.

I open my mouth and try to breathe.

“Blayne,” I gasp.

Zarek makes a noise in the back of his throat, a low growl. Petrys glares at him.

“What about Blayne?” Petrys asks, his voice low and sharp.

“He- He’s—” I gulp another breath. The garden feels much colder. “I need to go through the ballroom,” I declare.

“No,” Zarek replies.

I turn to him. “I’ll meet you at the stables,” I say. “But I need to go in there first. Blayne is looking for me. And if he doesn’t find me in there, he’s going to keep looking⁠—”

My voice pinches and fails. I think about Laurance’s face when I held the blade to his neck, the rage in his eyes when he called me a crazy bitch.

I messed everything up in Ethiria. I’m not going to do that again.

“He needs to find me,” I finish. “Blayne has to think everything is normal.”

“Shit,” Petrys hisses, turning to Zarek. “She’s right. He’ll send someone looking for her. And if they can’t find her, they’ll come looking for you, won’t they?”

“No,” Zarek says. “I’m not leaving without her.”

There’s a raw edge to his voice, something ragged and sharp. Petrys takes a deep breath, then turns and puts his hands on his brother’s shoulders.

“Zarek,” he says in a low whisper. “You know she’s right.”

“I’ll go with you,” Zarek says. “I’ll keep my hood up.”