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This was her moment. Her chance to get away and return to her people in Nerastis. Yet Zarrah found herself hesitating, wondering if escape was truly the path to reclaiming the honor she’d lost.
Silas Veliant was her enemy. The man who’d murdered her mother. The one she desired vengeance against.
“Dawn is nearly here, Valcotta,” he said quietly. “It needs to be now, or the opportunity will be lost. As soon as the sun rises, we travel to my father’s palace in Vencia, and once you’re inside, there will be no escape.”
Not just inside the city, but inside the Rat King’s impenetrable palace—a goal long denied her people. As Keris’s prisoner, she’d have the chance to get closer to Silas than she’d ever dreamed possible.
Perhaps close enough to kill.
Rising to her feet, Zarrah shifted the knife in her grip so that the pommel was down, seeing Keris tense as he readied himself for the blow.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
Could she trust Keris with her plan? Did he hate his father enough to see it through? She wavered, uncertainty churning through her thoughts, but then he looked up at her.
And thatcursedblue hardened her resolve.
Zarrah swayed on her feet, allowing the weapon to slip from her hand to land with a clatter. “I…” She let her knees buckle, rolling her eyes back as she dropped.
Swearing, Keris caught her, and Zarrah kept her eyes closed and her body limp as he settled her back on the bed.
“Your Highness?” a concerned voice called through the door. “Are you well?”
“Fine,” he snapped and she could feel his frustration. His panic. “I dropped something.”
The doorknob jiggled, and Zarrah forced herself to breathe deeply as Keris cursed under his breath, fumbling to retie the ropes binding her to the bed.
“Your Highness?” the voice called, then again, with growing alarm: “Your Highness, please open the door.”
“Calm yourself!”
Her ears filled with the sound of the latch being unfastened, the door opening, then boots scuffing against the wooden floors.
“Apologies, my lord,” the man said. “But word you are traveling to the city with a prisoner has preceded us to Vencia, and an honor guard was dispatched to ensure your safety. They arrived in the night and are waiting to escort you the rest of the journey.”
“It’s not even dawn, and the prisoner is still unconscious. Tell them to wait.”
The guard cleared his throat. “There is concern that the Valcottans might yet attempt rescue, my lord. Better that we not tarry. I’ll arrange for a stretcher to carry the prisoner to the carriage.”
Silence.
Zarrah held her breath, waiting to see if Keris would argue. Whether he’d find a reason to delay their departure so as to give her another chance to escape. And whether in doing so, he’d stymy her own growing plans.
“His Majesty sent word with them that you were to come with all due haste,” the man finally added, and it was all Zarrah could do not to smile as Keris answered, “Then I suppose we must do so. Arrange the stretcher.”
She kept her eyes closed as they carried her out to the carriage and settled her on the bench, her nose filling with Keris’s spicy scent as he joined her inside. Then a whip cracked and the carriage moved forward, the horses soon urged into a fast canter, pulling them north.
Toward Vencia.
Toward the palace of her enemy.
And once she was inside, Zarrah intended to cut out Silas Veliant’s heart.
37
KERIS
How had things gotten so terribly out of his control?
