CHAPTER 9
Sweat dampened my skin as I dipped down and spun, the long, thick braid of hair whipping around me. I kicked out, and my bare foot connected with the side of Vikter’s shin. Caught off guard, he staggered to the side as I shot up beside him. He started to strike back but froze. His gaze dropped to where I held the dagger to his throat.
The corners of his lips turned down.
I smiled. “I win.”
“It’s not about winning, Poppy.”
“It’s not?” I lowered the dagger, stepping back.
“It’s about surviving.”
“Isn’t that winning, though?”
He shot me a sidelong glance as he dragged his arm over his forehead. “I suppose you can look at it that way, but it’s never a game.”
“I know that.” I sheathed the dagger at my thigh. Dressed in a pair of thick leggings and an old tunic of Vikter’s, I walked across the stone floor toward an old, wooden table. I picked up the glass of water and took a long drink. If I could dress like this all day, every day, I’d be a happy girl. “But if it were a game, I still would’ve won.”
“You only got the upper hand twice, Poppy.”
“Yes, but both of those times, I would’ve sliced your neck. You got the upper hand three times, but they would’ve been nothing more than flesh wounds.”
“Flesh wounds?” He barked out a short, rare laugh. “Only you would think disembowelment a paltry flesh wound. You’re such a poor loser.”
“I thought this wasn’t a game?”
He scoffed.
Grinning, I shrugged as I faced him. Dust danced in the sunlight that poured through the open windows. The glass had long since been removed, and the room was either drafty and near frigid in the winter, or unbearably hot in the summer. But no one ever checked for us here, so the extreme temperature variances were more than manageable.
It was the morning after Rylan’s funeral, too early for much of the castle to be moving about. Nearly all the staff and the stronghold’s inhabitants followed the schedule of the Ascended, and the servants, as well as the Duke and Duchess, believed that I was still abed. Only Tawny knew where I was. Rylan hadn’t even known, as Vikter always had morning duties with me.
“How is your head feeling?” he asked.
“Fine.”
He arched a fair brow. “Are you telling the truth?”
A faint, bluish-purple bruise over my temple was all that remained. The skin around my mouth was no longer red. There was a superficial cut along the inside of my cheek that any amount of salt seemed to find its way into, but other than that, I was fine. Not that I would admit it, but Vikter suggesting I take it easy and rest yesterday probably had a lot to do with that.
After Rylan’s funeral, I’d spent the day in my chambers, reading one of the books Tawny had brought to me. It was a tale of two lovers, star-crossed yet fated. The title had fallen in the Things Penellaphe is Forbidden to Read pile, which was pretty much everything that didn’t involve some sort of educational material or the teachings of the gods. I’d finished the novel last evening, and I wondered if Tawny could bring me another. It was doubtful. Preparation for the upcoming Rite was consuming much of her spare time. Whenever Tawny couldn’t bring a book for me to read, I would simply sneak into the Atheneum and help myself. Plus, with the attempted kidnapping and what had happened to Malessa, I didn’t want her out there roaming around.
Which meant I also shouldn’t be roaming around unguarded, but the Atheneum wasn’t too far. Just a few blocks beyond the castle and easily accessible through the Grove. Disguised, no one would know that I was the Maiden, but it still felt too risky and dumb to do something like that so quickly after the attack.
“It hurt a little last night, but not since I woke up.” I paused. “The man had a weak punch.”
Vikter snorted as he approached me, sliding his short sword into its scabbard. “Did you sleep well?”
I considered lying. “Do I look like I haven’t slept?”
He stopped in front of me. “You rarely ever sleep well. I imagine what happened with Rylan has exacerbated your already poor sleeping patterns.”
“Aw, are you worried about me?” I teased. “You’re such a good father.”
His expression turned bland. “Stop deflecting, Poppy.”
“Why? I’m so good at it.”
“But you’re actually not.”
Rolling my eyes, I sighed. “It took a while to fall asleep, but I haven’t had a nightmare in a while.”
Vikter’s gaze searched mine as if trying to determine whether I was lying—and the man probably could. I wasn’t lying…exactly. I hadn’t had a night terror since I went to the Red Pearl, and I wasn’t sure why that was.
Perhaps falling asleep thinking about what had happened in the Red Pearl had somehow switched the gears of my brain away from past trauma. If so, I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“Who do you think will replace Rylan?” I changed the subject before he could continue down that road of questioning.
“I’m not sure, but I assume it will be decided fairly soon.”
My mind immediately went to Hawke, even though he couldn’t possibly be in the running, not when there were so many others from the Rise who’d been here longer. But the question sort of toppled out of me anyway. “Do you think it would be the one who came from the capital recently? The guard who stood by my side at the funeral?”
Who assured me that I wouldn’t be hurt again?
“You’re talking about Hawke?” Vikter asked, securing his other sword.
“Oh, is that his name?”
He lifted his gaze to mine. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“Am not!” I frowned. “What am I supposedly lying about?”
“You didn’t know his name?”
Praying that my flushing cheeks didn’t give me away, I folded my arms over my chest. “Why would I?”
“Every woman in this city knows his name.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
His lips twitched as if he were fighting a smile. “He’s a very handsome young man, or so I’ve been told, and there’s nothing wrong with you taking notice of him.” He glanced away. “As long as that is all you do.”
My cheeks did flush hotly then because I had done far more than simply take notice of Hawke. “When exactly would I have had a chance to do anything other than take notice, which is, might I remind you, strictly forbidden?”
Vikter laughed once more, and my frown increased. “When has something being forbidden ever stopped you?”
“That is different,” I said, wondering if the gods would strike me down for so blatantly lying. “And when would I even have a chance to do something like that?”
“I’m actually glad you brought that up. Your little adventures will need to come to an end.”
My stomach jumped. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He ignored that. “I haven’t said much in the past about you and Tawny sneaking off, but after what happened in the garden, that has to end.”
I snapped my mouth shut.
“Did you think I didn’t know?” His smile was slow and smug. “I’m watching even when you think I’m not.”
“Well, that is…creepy.” I didn’t even want to know if he knew that I’d been to the Red Pearl.
“Creepy or not, just remember what I said the next time you think of sneaking out in the middle of the night.” Before I could respond, he said, “And regarding Hawke, I would say that his age would make him becoming your personal guard doubtful.”
“But?” My heart started thumping, and I was barely aware of Vikter taking the glass from me.
“But he is exceptionally skilled, more so than many of the Royal Guards now. I wasn’t stroking his ego yesterday when I said that. He came here, held in high regard by the capital, and he appears to be close to Commander Jansen.” He finished off my glass of water. “I wouldn’t be all that surprised if he was promoted over others.”
Now my heart was slamming itself against my ribs. “But…but to become my personal guard? Surely, someone who is more familiar with the city would be a better fit.”
“Actually, someone new and less likely to be complacent would be the best,” he said. “He would see things differently than many of us who’ve been here for years or longer. See weaknesses and threats we may overlook out of monotony. And he showed yesterday that he has no problem stepping up while everyone else stood by.”
All of that made sense, but…but he couldn’t become my personal Royal Guard. If he did, I’d have to speak to him eventually, and if I did that, he’d recognize me at some point.
And then what?
If he was close to the Commander and determined to rise through the ranks, he would be sure to report me. After all, the highest-ranking guards who had a chance of living to see a well-funded retirement, were the Royal Guards who protected the Duke and Duchess of Masadonia.
During the day, when the sun was high, the Great Hall, where the weekly City Councils and grand celebrations were held, was one of the most beautiful rooms in the entire castle.
Windows taller than most of the homes in the city were spaced every twenty feet or so, allowing the warm, bright sun to drench the polished white limestone walls and floors. The windows offered views of the gardens to the left and the Temples atop the Undying Hills.
Heavy white tapestries hung the length of the windows and in between them. The golden Royal Crest embossed the center of each banner. Creamy white pillars adorned with flecks of gold and silver were spaced throughout the long, wide chamber. White and purple jasmine flowers climbed out of silver urns, perfuming the air with their sweet, earthy scent.
The hand-painted ceiling was the true masterpiece of the Great Hall. Above, all the gods could be seen watching over us. Ione and Rhahar. The flaming redheaded Aios, the Goddess of Love, Fertility, and Beauty. Saion, the dark-skinned God of the Sky and the Soil—he was Earth, Wind, and Water. Beside him was Theon, the God of Accord and War, and his twin Lailah, the Goddess of Peace and Vengeance. The dark-haired Goddess of the Hunt, Bele, armed with her bow. There was Perus, the pale, white-haired God of the Rite and Prosperity. Beside him was Rhain, the God of the Common Man and Endings. And then there was my namesake, Penellaphe, the Goddess of Wisdom, Loyalty, and Duty—which I found highly ironic. All their faces were captured in striking, vivid detail—all but Nyktos, the King of all the gods, who had made the first Blessing. His face and form were nothing but brilliant silvery moonlight.
But as I stood on the raised dais to the left of the seated Duchess, there was no sunlight pouring in through the windows, only the dark night. Several sconces and oil lamps placed to provide as much light as possible cast a golden glow throughout the Hall.
The gods did not walk in the sun.
So, neither did the Ascended.
How had Ian adapted to that? If it was a sunny day, he could be found outside, scribbling in one of his journals, recording whatever stories his mind had drummed up. Did he now write in the moonlight? I would know sooner rather than later if I was summoned back to the capital.
Anxiety bloomed, and I pushed that thought aside before the unease could spread. I scanned the throng of people who had filled up the Great Hall, pretending that I wasn’t searching for one face in particular, and failing miserably.
I knew Hawke was here. He always was, but I hadn’t seen him yet.
Full of nervous energy, I unclasped and then wrung my hands as someone—a banker—continued to heap praise upon the Teermans.
“You all right?” Vikter bent his head, keeping his voice low enough so only I would hear him.
I turned just the slightest to the left and nodded. “Why do you ask?”
“Because you’ve been fidgeting like you have spiders in your gown since the beginning of this,” he answered.
Spiders in my gown?
If I had spiders in my gown, I wouldn’t be fidgeting. I’d be screaming and stripping down to nothing. I wouldn’t care at all who witnessed it.
I wasn’t sure exactly what had me so incredibly restless. Well, there were myriad things, considering everything that had happened recently, but it felt like…more than that.