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If Arin were here, he’d smile and tell me we would succeed. And like a fool, I’d believe him.
The door clunked open.
“The vaults, Your Highness.”
Razak wouldn’t hesitate. So I didn’t either. I climbed down from the carriage and up the steps, toward the portcullis, anticipating their opening,believingmy lie. I was Razak and nothing stood in my way, not even these iron bars. I’d almost reached the top of the steps when I caught the guards’ sideways glances.
Believe the lie.
I am Razak. Prince of Pain.
The guards averted their gazes.
Chains clattered out of sight and the portcullis began to lift. I levelled my breathing, but my thudding heart grew louder. The timber door groaned open. My heart thumped a beat in my throat:Im-pos-ter, it drummed. The truth had no place here—only lies. I was Razak, and Razak did not stop or slow for anyone.
I passed through the entrance into a sumptuous foyer of purple and black silks, ornate chairs, and a vast dark mahogany desk, carved like a wave.
“Ah, sire!” A man scuttled out from behind the desk. His full-length purple gown flowed around his legs, round glasses rested on his long nose, and he’d tucked his shaggy brown hair behind both ears. In the soft lamplight, I’d thought him in his middle years, but as he dipped his head in a small bow and looked up, his face bore no more age lines than mine. Perhaps he was a low-level administrator, or a trainee custodian of the vaults.
His hand vanished into the fold of his gown. Did he mean to draw a blade?
I faltered, having no blade of my own. My frantic heart skipped and old instincts urged me to run. He produced a ring of keys and swooped ahead, toward another impressive door. “Valdan is away this evening. We weren’t expecting a visit so soon after your last,” he said.
I arched an eyebrow. Valdan was likely his senior. This was good. An apprentice wouldn’t notice any discrepancies in my behavior. “Then you shall assist me.”
“Yes, yes of course.” He dipped his head again, submissive, and hurried to open the door into a long corridor. Multiple steel doors led off at intervals, each one sporting its own heavy lock. Those were private vaults, belonging to nobles. The royal vault would not be as accessible.
We walked on—the apprentice ahead—toward another door at the far end of the corridor.
I was almost there. Once inside, the crown shouldn’t be too hard to find. They’d probably have it on display, awaiting the King of Pain’s return. Razak was not yet king, not without our father’s blessing, or confirmation of his death. And as Razak and the council had no confirmation of either scenario, he had no right to claim the crown. Itwouldbe here. There was nowhere else in the court it could be.
The apprentice rattled his keys in the next door’s lock and swung the door open. Another corridor stretched deeper into the vaults, leading to yet another door at its end. It was the largest door of them all—this one carved with a simple design of four interlocking circles. The apprentice stopped, folded his hands in front of his gown, bowed his head, and waited.
Clearly, I was supposed to do something. Were there words, a phrase, some kind of ceremony?
I glanced over, and the apprentice gestured at the door. “Your key, Your Highness?”
“My key—yes! My key.” I patted my outfit in theatrical fashion. “I seem to have mislaid it.”
He blinked. “Oh.”
“You possess a spare.” I made it a statement, not a query.
“I, well, this is unusual.” He patted his gown as I’d earlier patted my empty pockets.
“Are you mocking me?”
His face flushed, then proceeded to drain of all color. “You?! No, my sire, prince, lord. Goodness! Not at all.”
Now, if I were me, I’d have half a dozen ways of seducing him to get my desired outcome—getting through the door. But Razak was not me. He didn’t seduce, and he didn’t threaten. He cut off fingers, without warning.
I killed the thin smile on my lips. “I do not have time for this. Open this door immediately or there will be consequences.”
“Well, I just…” He glanced back the way we’d come, searching for assistance.
I arched my eyebrow in a Razak-like way. “Who are you looking for? Because unless it’s the king,my father,then I do not see who would be foolish enough to refuse me access to my own vault, except you. Please enlighten me, if I am wrong.” I knew all too well how politeness from Razak was a prelude to agony. I assumed others among the court and the staff knew the same. It was always better to agree with Razak.
“No. Of course. One moment.” He fumbled his keys, searching for the correct one.
