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Unfortunately, I had. Maids and servants sometimes died because they had seen something they should not have or because a lord fancied them one night and decided to get rid of the evidence the next day. The Queen of Light punished those instances whenever they came to light, but some always slipped by.
“I don’t think King Duncan is that kind of man,” I told her. “But you think that is what happened to Liltra?”
“It could be,” she said.
“Either way,” I replied. “We have to tell someone.”
“Orla?” Xira cocked her head.
“I think so, too,” I replied.
“Let’s go,” Xira said, and before I could do anything, she grabbed my hand and dragged me outside the room.
We did not run, but we were fast. Xira led me through the hallways, and only when a group of ladies appeared on our path, she released my hand. The warmth of her touch remained with me as the ladies glared at us, and when we passed them by, I heard the usual murmurs about me. I did not focus on it but hoped Xira had not heard.
Orla’s room was in the king’s tower. She was tasked with protecting the king from mind intrusion by an enemy, which meant she had to sleep near his room to catch any attempts at gathering the secrets of the crown. Being close to the king meant more protection, and only when we reached the tower stairs, which were the only way to get to the rooms above, I realized that could be a problem.
Two guards were standing motionless at the tower entrance. They did not meet our eyes or acknowledge our presence as Lady Xira went and stood right before them. I stopped a few steps back, hoping my presence would not evoke mistrust in the guards. My attempt did not work.
The guard with blond hair and white wings stared down at me while the other met Xira’s gaze. He did not bow; the king’s guards were not supposed to acknowledge anyone as their superior. They had to protect the king against anyone, including the nobility.
“We need to see Lady Orla,” Lady Xira said.
Her voice had a politeness to it now, one that she had cultivated during her life as the daughter of a nobleman. Her demeanor was similar to any other lady.
“We are not to let anyone inside the tower,” the guard with blond hair said without taking his gaze off me. The other guard nodded to confirm the order.
“If Lady Orla wants to see you, she will,” the other guard added. “You should send her a message and ask to be let in. If she...”
“We need to see Lady Orla right now,” Xira interrupted him. “Could you let her know that we are here?”
The guard raised his brows. The blond guard was still staring at me, the hate in him was explicit, but the other guard, the one with broad shoulders and the unleashed wings, did not seem hateful; he was just following his orders.
“We don’t have a way of sending a message inside,” he said.
“Should I just try to think loudly, so she will hear me?” Xira asked frustratedly, letting go of some of her poise in her anger.
I saw the guard’s lips twitch as though he was about to smile, but the blond guard was angered by Xira’s question.
“We don’t care what you do,” he replied before the other could. “Leave now, or we will have to detain you.”
His counterpart seemed surprised to hear the hate in the blond guard’s voice. Xira’s body tensed up. I reached to grab her by the shoulder to calm her down but realized at the last moment that it would look bad.
“We just want to talk to Orla!” She said, raising her voice just a bit. “Don’t you think it would be inappropriate if you put us in a dungeon because of that?”
“You are being a nuisance,” the blond guard replied angrily. “We are supposed to take care of that.”
I wished Xira would not push him anymore. We could always go back and try to talk to Orla another time. It wasn’t...
“Lady Xira,” I whispered. My voice was low, but the blond guard’s gaze darted toward me at once. There was hate all over him. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. “We could come back later.”
“No,” Xira replied angrily without looking back. “We should—“
“What is happening here?”
I turned swiftly to face Lady Queill. Her long gray hair was tied at the top of her head in an elegant braid. She had wrinkles around her eyes that normally gave her a compassionate look, but right now, she seemed pretty angry. To my surprise, her anger was not directed toward Xira.
“You have trial champions at your door,” she said, taking a few steps to stand next to me. “Why are you making them wait?”
