I had been born into this, in the same way that all the second sons and daughters were. Even though none of them seemed to dread their future, it wasn’t their choice either.
I hadn’t been lying or trying to cover up a hidden agenda when I helped Agnes or exposed myself to Marlowe. I did that because I could—because it was my choice. I trained to use a sword and bow because it was my choice. But was there another motive behind sneaking off to watch fights or swimming naked? Visiting gambling dens or lurking in parts of the castle forbidden to me and listening in on conversations that I wasn’t supposed to hear? Or when I left my chambers without Vikter or Rylan just so I could spy on the balls held in the Great Hall and people-watch in Wisher’s Grove? What about the Red Pearl? Letting Hawke kiss me? Touch me? All of those things that I’d done, I did because they were my choice, but…
But could it also be what Vikter had suggested?
What if, deep down, I wasn’t just trying to live and experience everything I could before my Ascension? What if I was, on some kind of unconscious level, trying to ensure that the Ascension never happened?
These thoughts troubled me throughout the day, and for once, I wasn’t all that restless in my confinement. At least not until the sun began to set. Having dismissed Tawny hours before supper since there was no reason for her to sit around while I did nothing but morosely stare out the windows, I finally got annoyed with myself and yanked open the door.
Only to find Rylan lounging across the hall.
I drew up short.
“Going somewhere, Pen?” he asked.
Pen.
Rylan was the only one who called me that. I liked it. I let go of the door, and it slowly inched back, bumping my shoulder. “I don’t know.”
He grinned at me as he ran a hand over his light brown hair. “It’s time, isn’t it?”
Glancing behind me to the windows, I saw that it was dusk. Surprise flickered through me. I’d wasted an entire day in self-reflection.
Priestess Analia would be thrilled to hear that, but not the reasons. Either way, I wanted to punch myself in the face.
But it was time. I nodded and started to step out—
“I think you’re forgetting something,” he said, tapping a finger on his bearded cheek.
My veil.
Good gods, I’d almost walked out into the hall without it or a hood. Other than my guardians—the Duke and Duchess—and Tawny, only Vikter and Rylan were allowed to see me without my veil. Well, the Queen and King could, and Ian was permitted, but obviously, they weren’t here. If anyone else had been in the hall, they would’ve possibly fallen over in a dead faint.
“I’ll be right back!”
His grin increased as I whipped around and hurried back into the room, slipping the veil over my head. It took a little more than a couple of minutes to clasp all the little chains so it was secured in place. Tawny was so much faster at it than I was.
I started back out—
“Shoes, Pen. You should put some shoes on.”
Looking down at myself, I let out a very unladylike groan. “Gods! One moment.”
Rylan chuckled.
Totally scatterbrained, I toed on my well-worn shoes, which were nothing more than satin and a thin leather sole, and then reopened the door.
“Having a bad day?” Rylan mused as he joined me in my room.
“Having a weird day,” I countered, heading for the old servants’ access. “A forgetful one.”
“It must be for you to not realize the time.”
Rylan was right. Unless something was going on, both he and Vikter were always ready for me just before dusk.
Our pace was quick as we hurried down the narrow, dusty staircase. It emptied out into an area beside the kitchen, and while we took the old access to avoid being seen as much as possible, it wasn’t completely avoidable. Kitchen servants stopped mid-step as Rylan and I passed them, their brown garb and white caps making them nearly indistinguishable from one another. I heard a basket of potatoes hit the floor and the harsh, biting reprimand. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw blurred faces bow their heads as if they were praying.
I swallowed a groan while Rylan did what he always did and pretended that there was nothing off about their behavior.
You’re the child of the gods.
Agnes’s words came back to me. The only reason they thought that was because of the veil and the paintings and various artworks representing the Maiden.
That and how often it was that they didn’t see me.
We started toward the banquet hall. From there, we could enter the foyer and be able to access the Queen’s Garden. There’d be more servants, but there really wasn’t any other way to access it from within the castle that didn’t require scaling a wall. We made it halfway past the long table when one of the many doors on either side opened behind us.
“Maiden.”
A wave of goosebumps spread over my skin in revulsion. I recognized that voice, and I wanted to keep walking—to pretend I’d suddenly lost my hearing.
But Rylan had stopped.
If I kept walking, it wouldn’t end well for me.
Inhaling deeply, I turned to face Lord Brandole Mazeen. I didn’t see what I was sure most saw, a dark-haired man who appeared to be in his mid-twenties, handsome and tall. I saw a bully.
I saw a cruel man who had long ago forgotten what it was like to be mortal.
Unlike with the Duke, who seemed to despise me without cause, I knew precisely why Lord Mazeen found such glee in harassing me.
Ian.
And it all stemmed from the vainest, most inconsequential thing possible. A year before my brother Ascended, he’d bested Lord Mazeen at a game of cards, to which the Lord had ungraciously accused Ian of cheating. I, who probably shouldn’t have even been present for the game, had laughed. Mainly because the Lord was utterly terrible at poker. From that moment on, the Lord had sought to irritate both Ian and me whenever he got the chance. It only got worse once Ian Ascended, and the Lord began to…assist the Duke with his lessons.
Clasping my hands together, I said nothing as he strode toward me, his long legs encased in black breeches. He wore a black dress shirt, and the darkness of his clothing created a striking contrast against his pale skin and lips the color of ripe berries. His eyes…
I didn’t like to look into them. They seemed fathomless and empty.
Like all Ascended, they were such a dark black that the pupils weren’t visible. I wondered what his eye color had been before he Ascended or if he even remembered. The Lord may only appear to be in his second decade of life, but I knew he’d Ascended after the War of Two Kings, along with the Duke and Duchess. He was hundreds of years old.
Lord Mazeen gave a tight, close-lipped smile when I didn’t respond. “I’m surprised to see you here.”
“She’s taking her evening walk,” Rylan replied, tone flat. “As she is allowed.”
Eyes like shards of obsidian narrowed on the guard. “I didn’t ask the question of you.”
“I’m taking my walk,” I stepped in, answering before Rylan said another word.
That unnerving, fathomless gaze shifted to me. “You’re going to the garden?” One side of his lips quirked when surprise flickered through me. “Isn’t that where you always go at this time of day?”
I did.
And it was more than a little disconcerting that the Lord was aware of that.
I nodded.
“She must be on her way now,” Rylan interjected. “As you know, the Maiden must not linger.”
In other words, I wasn’t allowed to interact, not even with the Ascended. The Lord knew that.
But he disregarded it. “The Maiden also must be respectful. I wish to speak with her, and I’m sure the Duke would be most disappointed to learn that she was unwilling to do so.”
My spine straightened as a wave of anger swept through me so swiftly, I almost reached for the dagger strapped to my thigh. The reaction shocked me in a way. What would I have done with it if I hadn’t stopped? Stabbed him? I almost laughed.
But none of this was funny.
His thinly veiled threat of speaking to the Duke had been effective. The Lord had backed both Rylan and me into a corner because even though I was not supposed to interact, the Duke didn’t hold Lord Mazeen to the same rules as others. If I walked away, I would be punished. So would Rylan. And while my punishment wasn’t something to take lightly, it would be nothing compared to what Rylan would face.
He could be removed from the Royal Guard, and the Duke would ensure that it was known that he had fallen out of the Duke’s favor. Rylan would soon be unemployed and therefore dishonored. It wouldn’t be the same as being exiled, but his life would become measurably more difficult.
I squared my shoulders. “I would love nothing more than to speak with you.”
A look of smugness settled on his handsome features, and I wanted nothing more than to kick him in the face. “Come.” He reached out, curling his arm over my shoulders. “I wish to speak in private.”
Rylan stepped forward—
“It’s okay,” I told him, although it really wasn’t. Looking over at him, I willed him to listen. “Truly, it is fine.”
Rylan’s jaw hardened as he stared at the Lord, and I could tell he wasn’t remotely happy about this, but he nodded curtly. “I’ll be right here.”
“Yes, you will,” the Lord replied.