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An ache filled Zarrah’s chest, because she knew this pain. Could have spared him this pain, if only she’d done what Coralyn had asked. “I’m so sorry. This is my fault. If—”
Keris’s eyes snapped open. “This isnotyour fault.” He closed the distance between them, gripping her face gently. She could smell the blood on his hands as he said, “She told me what she did. Told me why. Coralyn dug her own goddamned grave tonight for no better reason than that she couldn’t see a future different from the present.”
There was a quiver to his voice, the grief in his eyes so vast it carved out her heart. Though part of her wanted to ask what Coralyn had said, what had happened, Zarrah sensed that talking about it would undo him. And they were far from out of danger. So instead, Zarrah wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling Keris against her.
She felt the rapid pounding of his heart against her breasts, her cheek pressed against his, rough with stubble.
“You shouldn’t be out of the chest,” he said. “It’s not safe.”
Zarrah swallowed hard. “Someone came in. His body is under the bed.”
“Pardon?” He blinked at her, eyes hazed with grief and exhaustion, though they sharpened swiftly enough when he realized her words were no jest.
“Serin sent him in here to search for proof you’re involved with this escape,” she said as he crossed the room, bending to lift up the bed skirt and swiftly recoiling. “The man was thorough and discovered where I was hidden. I had no choice but to kill him.”
“Shit.” Keris scrubbed his hands back through his hair, and she noticed his face was pale. “Why can’t one goddamned thing go as planned?”
Battles rarely went as planned—the secret was being able to adapt your strategy. To look for solutions to problems as they occurred. They needed to get rid of the corpse somewhere it would never be found, which was impossible within the palace. Anywhere they put it, the body would eventually be found, and the blame would fall back on Keris.
“What the fuck do we do with him?”
Zarrah heard the edge of panic in his voice. Knew that he’d been pushed too hard, too far, to think clearly. But she’d been raised on the battlefield, trained to fight and to think even when bodies were falling around her. Even when her life was on the line. Which meant her mind was now at its sharpest. “We take him with us.”
68
KERIS
Heart in his throat, Keris followed the pair of sweating men he’d tasked with carrying his trunk of books down from the tower, keeping his arms crossed and a scowl on his face as they passed through the gardens and out the gates into the main palace.
Only for the drum towers, which had been a constant barrage of noise for hours, to plunge into silence.
Keris froze, his stomach twisting. Had Aren been caught or killed? Was that why the towers had ceased their noise? All it would take was one of Aren’s party being caught alive, one of them caving to Serin’s torture, for the information of Zarrah’s whereabouts to be revealed.
As well as Keris’s complicity in the escape.
Hooves clattered, and his father appeared before him, mounted on the back of his stallion. “They’ve made it up the cliffs outside the western gate,” he shouted at the soldiers massing around them. “We can’t let them reach the water! Go!”
His eyes latched on Keris. “Where the fuck are you going?”
“Nerastis.” He met his father’s glare, not bothering to curb the venom in his voice. “As you ordered. Your Grace.”
“Now?”
“You told me to be gone by dawn. And as it stands, I find there little reason for me to remain in Vencia.”
The horse sidled sideways, betraying his father’s tension, and he hauled on the reins. “Coralyn deserved her fate. She’s a traitor to the Veliant name.”
There was no one more loyal to this family than her,Keris wanted to scream, but he bit down on the words. Because drawing his father’s ire would be foolish. And because Coralyn’s loyalty to her family had been what had gotten her killed. “My ship sets sail at dawn. Do you have any orders for me?”
His father stared him down, then gave a tight nod. “War will be coming to Nerastis. Make sure we are ready.” Then he dug in his heels and galloped out the gate.
The streetsof Vencia were empty except for the soldiers patrolling them, everyone under orders to remain in their homes while the city was searched. It was quiet, but the stink of smoke from the fire at the east gate was nearly as thick as the tension that hung in the air as his carriage slowly made its way down to the harbor.
The wind had risen, the waters rippling with whitecaps despite the thick storm walls that protected it from the worst the seas had to offer, which meant it would be rough once they passed out into open water. But being out on violent seas was more appealing than remaining in Vencia a moment longer, because drowning would be a far more merciful death than would be granted them if they were caught.
Soldiers flanked the gangplank as Keris and the servants carrying his trunks approached, the men with his book trunk staggering beneath its weight. Aboard, more men searched the contents of the vessel, his father taking no chances of anyone escaping. The sight had sweat rolling in rivulets down Keris’s spine.
“Your Highness.” The soldier in command bowed low. “I regret the inconvenience, but your belongings must be searched before the ship can set sail.”
