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“I know it’s—” began a bearded Sorachian-looking, portly man before noticing us. He looked back over his shoulder, then the key in his hand, blinked, and with narrowed eyes, seemed to decide to focus on the most pertinent fact, shouting, “Intruders! Thieves!”
Dimitri stood between me and the stairs, bare-chested, pants finally on, when two more men entered the room. His noble’s sigil wound around his arm from wrist to elbow, dark and undeniable.
He pointed to the wall we had exited through. “This tunnel needs to be bricked up, by royal command. Bone soldiers will arrive shortly to guard it. You are to give them everything they require. Ready a coach.”
They blinked at him as he paused to pull on his ruined shirt and pick up his coat. I hurried to dress behind him, blushing all the way to my chest, as he issued orders as if we had every right to turn up undressed in some noble’s basement.
A graying man in a vermilion robe and slippers, with a brass candlestick in his hand to bludgeon intruders—presumably the lord of the manor—stepped past his servants.
“Who do you think you are to deliver orders in my own house?”
Dimitri straightened, and for a moment, he was the dangerous man who caught me in the woods, the one who strode through a dining hall full of nobles expecting them to leap out of his way, the one who rode into Tal, untouched by those screaming their love and hate—the one who killed without remorse to save me.
“I am your crown prince.”
The words swelled to fill the silence as the lord froze, his eyes drifting to the still partly exposed noble’s sigil—its size and complexity marking Dimitri as royal.
The man lowered the candlestick and dropped into a deep bow, mumbling confused excuses. The servants followed their liege’s lead, faces twisted in disbelief.
After that, everyone leapt to offer their assistance—especially if it meant getting rid of the unexpected, irate royal—and we were inside a coach before a quarter of a bell had passed. They had given us new clothes after Dimitri ordered the old ones burned. I swam in a page boy’s attire while his ankles were exposed in too short pants.
As we traveled through North’s Place, our lips twitched until neither could hold back our laughter. Terrible things had happened during the night. Undead we could not fight walked below us. A field of poisonous flowers grew ready to spread death—perhaps we were already infected—but at this moment, we were alive and free. He was mine; I was his.
As the coach stopped before the palace gates, Dimitri brushed his lips against mine, seeming to say that while there was no time for anything more, the morning had not been a mistake.
“Third bell. Where can I pick you up?”
I hesitated. “Dragon Bridge… we have to be there…”
“There will be plenty of time before midnight.” His hands were on my back, one drifting downward, making it hard to think of objections.
“So you’ll come? Alone?”
“I’ll think on it. Rebels…” He shook his head. “Tempest, you keep surprising me.”
“I’ll be waiting outside the Royal Theater.”
Third bell would give me plenty of time to convince him. And truly flying… A grin split my face.
He slipped out with a final, lingering kiss that made me shiver and instructions to the driver to take me wherever I wanted to go.
I might end as my mother—a secret woman, mocked and envied for all the wrong reasons. Others might laugh when I called himmineand thislove. But I would know through trust and magic. Being free was not running away, it was living despite everything else. Tomorrow would always be a better day, because I knew that no matter what others thought, we would do our best to make it one.
I ordered the carriage to Popova’s shop. Perhaps I could find Lumi again and convince her to release me from my promise. If I could tell Dimitri about her, I was sure he would understand. If I could show him the letter in advance, he would know why we needed to cooperate.
This threat could be turned into an opportunity for a better tomorrow if everyone talked. Soon, he would be king and though I did not know Lumi’s position among the rebels, convincing her his rule could be different would be a start. Tal was fractured, but it could heal. I had hope.
Chapter thirteen
Dimitri
Despite the mountain of work before me and two days with barely any sleep, my smile did not waver. My mind constantly drifting to the one who put it there, how she’d looked in the morning light, the lavender scent of her skin and gasping breaths, was a small price to pay. Like the most dedicated cartographer, I had mapped her shape in my mind and my fingers itched to put it onto paper. I would need a new private journal to fill with versions of her, for once would never be enough.
“You would have loved the rumors sure to fly through the nobility today,” I said, addressing the air and Alexei’s memory. “Me and the princess—or perhaps another woman—locked in a basement undressed.”
My friend would never have let it go. I imagined years of his cheeky grin as he brought it up in arguments and needled me until I laughed as well. Any other day, the moments we would not have would have filled me with grief. This day, it made it all lighter to bear. He was gone but never forgotten.
Tempest—Vanya—was mine, and the feel of her was imprinted on my mind. Only her final request marred the memory.
