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“Your disrespect will be reported,” he said finally, his tone pitching even higher than usual. “And we’ll see what Commander Jansen has to say.”
My smile kicked up a notch. “I suppose we will.”
“Just so you know,” he bit out, lifting his pointed chin, “I’ve got my eye on you, Flynn.”
“Most do,” I replied, then winked.
Lieutenant Smyth’s shoulders stiffened. It appeared as if he wanted to say more, but disappointingly, he stalked forward, bumping my shoulder as he continued on the patrol path.
Chuckling, I looked to where Pence had nearly blended into the shadows of the parapet.
“Exactly how big are your balls?” the guard asked.
I snorted. “Normal size, the last I checked.”
“I don’t know about that.” Pence crossed the battlement, dragging a hand through his windblown hair. “Smyth is a prick.”
“I know that.”
“Then you have to know he’s going to do exactly what he said. He’ll go to the Commander.”
“I’m sure he will,” I said, straightening the strap of my baldric as I glanced at where I’d last seen the guard. “Jole Crain has a chamber in the dorms, right?”
“Yeah. He’s on the third floor.” Pence’s brow knitted. “Why do you ask?”
I shrugged.
Pence eyed me for a moment. “You aren’t worried at all about the Lieutenant, are you?”
“Not at all.” And I wasn’t.
Lieutenant Smyth didn’t even register on the list of things I was concerned about.
I lifted my gaze to the Citadel’s stone towers, then looked farther out past the edges of the Lower Ward and Wisher’s Grove, beyond the wider, nicer streets and lush manors. My stare fixed on the sprawling, arched walls of Castle Teerman, where the Maiden likely slept peacefully, safe in her stone and glass cage, out of reach.
But not for long.
HE DIED WITH HIS DREAMS
I cut across the Citadel’s courtyard, where patches of grass struggled to grow, having been stomped out from years of training.
Lucky for me, only the new guards trained at the Citadel. The rest took part in daily sessions at Castle Teerman. I didn’t mind the training. I actually looked forward to it. The time spent in the yard gave me the opportunity to familiarize myself with the castle.
It also gave me chances to see her.
Kind of.
The Maiden wasn’t seen in public outside the City Council sessions. But I had caught sight of her watching from one of the castle’s many alcoves that faced the training yard. Usually, it was just a glimpse of the white of her gown or veil. I’d yet to see anything of her features beyond a slightly sharp chin and surprisingly lush mouth the color of berries. I hadn’t even heard her voice.
To be honest, I was beginning to think she had no vocal cords or that she spoke only in whispers like a mouse terrified of any loud sounds. Wouldn’t surprise me if that were the case. After all, the so-called Chosen had to be either a submissive, frightened creature to allow herself to be veiled and have every aspect of her life controlled, or she believed the bullshit the false Queen—the Blood Queen—fed her. The latter was the likeliest explanation for her willing submissiveness, especially since she had a brother who had Ascended.
I’d seen the Maiden in the alcove with the Duchess a few times, the Ascended watching the men training as if she wished to feast on their flesh more than their blood. Ladies and Lords in Wait did the same, usually tittering from behind silk fans between sending not-so-coy glances at those on the field. Attraction drove them to watch, but the Maiden’s presence was an intriguing mystery, and so very little intrigued me these days.
Everyone in Solis knew the Maiden was untouched in both the literal and figurative senses and was to remain so. I couldn’t even begin to fathom what kind of archaic reasoning the Ascended had to justify that or why. To be honest, I couldn’t give two fucks, but there had been absolutely no gossip indicating that the Maiden rebelled against the cage she had been placed in. So, I doubted she watched for the same reasons the Duchess and the others did.
Then again, there was no actual gossip about the Maiden at all, likely due to the fact that most were forbidden to speak to her. There were even stories of guards having been relieved of their positions or demoted to work beyond the Rise for merely acknowledging her presence with a smile or a harmless hello.
What I knew of her was minimal. The Maiden was supposedly born in the shroud of the gods, which was yet more Ascended bullshit. Those of the working and lower classes harbored a fondness for her, which was clear in how they spoke of her in the same reverent tones as Pence had the other night. And she was said to be kind. How they would know that since they weren’t allowed to acknowledge her was anyone’s guess. Their foolish superstitions likely drove their loyalty, not anything based in reality.
