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Her rendition of my name was hesitant. I paused, turning to take in her façade. She seemed impeccable as always, even if the bridge of her nose held an unusual pinch.
“Yes?”
Uncertainty was unlike Cryssa. She strode through life with an easy confidence that made me envious. But when her throat worked loudly in the quite suite, I took her fingers in my own.
“Is something the matter?”
“I…” Her lips pressed together, their curves flattening into a thin line. Behind her pink-rimmed glasses, I watched her eyes dart around the round, unable to meet my gaze.
She let my fingers drop, turning away abruptly.
“It’s nothing,” she said quickly, reaching for the binder and snapping it shut. “We’d best get going.”
I remained rooted to the carpet.
“Are you sure?” I questioned, her hesitation triggering my own. “You know you can speak freely with me.”
She nodded, her bangles clinking as she stuffed the binder back into my briefcase.
“Yes, well,” she acknowledged. “We’re going to be late. We should go.”
How very odd.
Chapter Nine
Zoei
Rage reverberated through the palace, shaking it awake from its soundless slumber in the grip of dawn.
Many a person had whispered behind my back that Highblade Palace often took on the emotions of its King, and now I knew the truth in those words.
A river of blood splashed over the stone tiles of the chamber, pooling from the neck of the maid who’d had a dagger pressed to my throat just moments before. The room filled with a deafening silence, broken only by the grotesque sound of her gasps for breath.
The maid's eyes, wide with fear and pain, met mine briefly before she crumpled to the ground, life slipping away from her.
The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood, and the vivid crimson stains marred the once-pristine surface of the floor.
Stray droplets splattered over the bedding, like a canvas painting waiting to be hung by an artist gripped in the throes of violence.
An assassin.
An assassin in Highblade palace. My fortress—my safe haven.
It was unheard of. The palace was impenetrable—at least, it had been before tonight.
Goddess damn it all! I’d warned the councilandmy mother, time and again. I’d alerted them that it was a stupid idea to open up our home to strangers. I’d fought to keep the coronation a simple affair.
But I’d been outnumbered.
If alcohol had slowed me down this evening, I would have been dead.
Dead.
My blood vibrated with hot, uncontrollable rage.
Breath gusted heavily from my lungs as I stared down at the small, prone form, trying to recall if I had seen this maid before. Her features were simple and plain without any notable traits that would cause her to stand out.
She wore her stipulated gray robes modestly without revealing a single inch of skin, unlike many others on the palace grounds. Her dark tresses were tucked neatly out of the way in a single bun coiled around her nape, held in place with black pins that matched her hair.
