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“I would rather die than go back,” she continued, “so I spent that lord’s coin to buy transport to Caerth. Then I packed up as much food as I could carry and walked into the Faeland.” She turned on the bench looking away from Sil’abar to the golden forest on the other side. It was too far to see, but somewhere among the trees and hills was the entrance to Wiseman’s Way.
“You made it into the Faeland on foot? Weren’t you scared?” The journey had taken me a week on horseback. I couldn’t imagine how long it would take an untested hiker.
She let out a laugh. It rang through the garden like a bell and sent a pair of birds scurrying into the branches of the White Tree. “More scared than I’d ever been in my life. I’m sure you’ve heard the stories of what lurks in that wood. Or in the Faeland for that matter.” I had. Everyone in Elverath knew that you didn’t cross into the Faeland and expect to survive.
“Then why go?” So many Halflings managed to hide in the kingdom well enough. Apart from her brand, she could pass as Mortal.
“I was desperate,” she said with a heavy breath. She gazed at me with glassy eyes. “If I was going to die at least it would be on my terms. At least I’d be—”
“Free,” I finished for her.
She nodded and a knowing silence fell between us. I leaned back on the bench and stared at the canopy of blooms that hung above our heads. Shades of green intermingled with bursts of pastels, set against the backdrop of the golden leaves of Sil’abar. I could live for millennia and never tire of the view. No wonder the Elves and Fae loved it here.
I studied the Halfling, the long lines of her arms and high angles of her cheeks. I could tell she knew I watched her, but she didn’t stop me. Instead, she pulled a peach from somewhere beneath the silks of her skirt and bit into it.
There was little difference between the Shades and the courtesans. Each of us were chosen as children, trained to please the king with our bodies. Mine had been made into a weapon, serving the Crown with every life I took. Courtesans were forged into weapons of their own kind, serving the king with every petty lord they were forced to take to bed.
I’d never met either kind who’d escaped. At least, none who lived to speak of it.
“Do you ever think of going back?” I cut through the silence.
She took another bite of her peach, wiping the juice off her full lips with the back of her hand. “Sometimes,” she said with a shrug. “Not in any real way, but if I ever went back I would...” She trailed off.
I perched on the edge of the bench. When her eyes cut back to mine they were cold and murderous.
“I would kill the king,” she finished in a whisper, her dark hair falling in front of her face as she leaned forward. “Haven’t you ever thought the same?”
You promised.
“Yes,” I whispered. The tightness in my chest broke as I said the words aloud. “Yes, I have.” It was the first time I’d ever admitted that to anyone. I expected an adrenaline-fueled panic, the familiar nausea that swept over me whenever I let my thoughts crack through the decades of defenses I’d built around me. Maybe they had become brittle without the wine because I could feel my walls cracking and it didn’t scare me.
“I don’t know your name,” I realized, pulling myself out of my daze.
“Dynara,” she answered, standing up off the bench. She was almost the same height as me. She walked in the direction of the inn but turned back around. The sunlight glistening off the gold ink still left on her cheeks.
“Keera,” she called, running a hand through her hair.
I raised my brow. “You knew who I was all along?”
Her sly smile returned, and she nodded. “I remember how lonely it feels. Serving the king. Trying to find something that matters before you die for him.” I crossed my arms, shielding myself from her piercing stare. I felt exposed again.
“But that’s what he wants,” she continued. “That’s how it works. Convincing us that we’re alone, when the truth is we are surrounded by people trying to break free too.”
“You want to help me kill the king?” I scoffed.
She didn’t laugh. Her lips fell to a straight line, and she took a step toward me. “I’m afraid my skill set won’t help as much as yours, but there are people who may be willing to help you. If you’re willing to look in unexpected places.”
My stomach fluttered. “I could never ask Halflings who’ve escaped the king to take up arms against him.” I wouldn’t be responsible for any more of their deaths. Not for a lost cause.
Dynara shrugged. “Maybe that decision has already been made,” she said coolly. “I know who you’ve come here for. I don’t know if you came on your own accord or at the king’s command, but I know you came out of desperation. Why else make a journey you didn’t expect to survive? But maybe you’ll find more than survival here. Maybe you’ll find redemption.”
DYNARA’S WORDS SCRATCHEDthe inside of my skull. Had this been the reason for the dreams? It had been years since I gave up on my promise to kill the king, to end his reign and the Crown altogether. I had silenced the guilt in barrels of wine. Two decades passed in oblivion. Now I couldn’t stop thinking about that promise. About trying again.
But the Shadow? Why Dynara thought he would help was beyond me. I had spent the better part of a year chasing leads, trying to pull back that hood and kill whoever hid beneath it. Why would the Shadow trust me? How did I even know he wanted the king dead?
Only if you leave a crown to claim.
They were his words. I didn’t think much of it then, but it made sense. He wasn’t just trying to keep the people of Elverath fed. He was working to take down the king. Though he wouldn’t get far stealing cargo and food. He needed to attack the king where it hurt.
