It hurts to think that they’d be just as beautiful if I wasn’t here.
“I mean everything about this moment,” Esther says. “You. Me. Sisters. One Royal and one Nameless. Glenquartz and Hat, one Legal and one Nameless. Think of everything it took for this moment to happen: the four of us sleeping in one room…almost like…” Her eyes flutter and she looks away, not finishing her thought. “When people call you the impossible heir, I think this is what they’re afraid of. After everything and despite everything, when we’re all alone and scared, we come together, no matter what.”
If I was any kind of gracious, I would tell her in this moment that yes, we are sisters. That yes, we are family, we can be a family. We can be everything to one another that each of us has always hoped for. We can love one another. But I can’t bring myself to say it, because it doesn’t seem like enough.
I don’t have the words for it yet. I don’t have them in my heart. This is a language I’ve only just begun to learn how to speak. I put an arm around her shoulders and tip my head against hers.
She hugs me, and everything we don’t know how to say to each other is wrapped inside this moment. Sister. Family. Friend.
It’s all I can do to hold on to her. Hold on, knowing that at some point I’ll have to let go.
* * *
The Assassins’ Festival is everything I thought it would be.
I’m in the Royal Court arena, perched behind a row of booths and tables where Legals are shouting about special delicacies and one-of-a-kind culinary treats.
I remind myself why I am here. I don’t need to prove to my allies that I’m strong. I need to prove it to my enemies. Today, I’m vulnerable. Anyone walking by could slide a blade between my ribs. Anyone with a clear shot from a long distance could pick me off. Paranoia is not my friend, but it is with me like a shadow today—a shadow grafting to my bones.
The arena fills slowly at first, like a few raindrops falling into a stone basin. Then more quickly, gathering in small pools. Then it’s a deep well of bodies and voices, heat and motion. A rush of conversation swirls in the air, and soon the entire arena is an echo chamber filled with a sound like rushing water. There are hundreds of people here. Over a thousand now. Somewhere out in that crowd are the Nameless. I see some of them in their dark clothes, loitering near the waste bins.
Today, I am anything but frivolous. I am lean and prepared. I considered wearing a dress—it would have allowed me to hide the movement of my legs during a duel, but its weight would have been too cumbersome. I settled for a long coat belted at my waist, dark pants, and a bright red blouse, which we had the tailor dye with three diagonal black streaks. It’s like the clothes Royals and Legals throw away, when they mar the fabric with dark paint in fear that a Nameless will steal it and try to pass themselves off as a proper citizen. It’s bold and unapologetic, like the claw marks of a monster, and I love it. I’ve braided my hair to keep it close to my scalp and out of my eyes. And to round out the ensemble: boots, of course.
A railing surrounds the arena, keeping the audience at a distance. I reach out toward them, sensing their auras. It’s like being in the market. Sounds and people and feelings buzz in the air. Some people have claimed their spots early, draping coats and cowls over sections of railing. I scan the faces for anyone recognizable. Belrosa threatened that the army would be here. I know as well as anyone that with the right colors and cloth, no one looks at you twice.
I scrutinize the crowd, wondering which of them are from Belrosa’s and Marcher’s Nameless army. The Legal with the wide-brimmed hat who spends too much time staring at the sugar bread but never actually buys it. The Royal wearing a luxurious scarf so big that it covers half his face. Occasionally I send Glenquartz on a scout run to check my blind spots.
There’s a sheltered viewing area for the Royal Council that would provide good cover for anyone with a rifle. That’s where Esther will be, among my contenders and my enemies. Any of them or all of them could be waiting for the right moment.
The only other structures aside from the viewing booths are the vending stalls that dot the surrounding area. The whole event is more festive and lively than I expected. The entire day of “try to kill the thief-turned-queen” is a novelty to the Legals and Royals. They’re selling chains of popcorn shaped like nooses and bread and biscuits shaped like daggers and swords.
The first of the Royal Council arrives—General Belrosa, of course—followed quickly by the others. Hat emerges from behind the seating area, hopping the fence lithely, dressed in Royals’ clothes.
“Coin, look!” Hat says as she reaches me. “I have my own med bag. Isn’t that great?” She opens it and starts shuffling things around to show me. I only register enough to know that she has a lot of bandages.
“You sure are prepared,” I say, and I truly am pleased.
“Yep,” she says with a big smile. “I mean, don’t die or anything today, but if you do, I’ll be very ready to help save your life.” Her grin is infectious. “Although…Rhana says that I have to help anyone who gets injured.”
Suddenly I want to do nothing else but throw my arms around her and wrap her tight. While she’s as calm and confident as I want to be, all I can think is that at least she’ll be okay. Everything about who I am and what I’m doing today could get me killed. But at least she’ll be okay.
Glenquartz joins us, and he lights up when he sees Hat with her med bag.
He puts a hand on my shoulder, and his fear springs to life inside my chest. It’s both unnerving and comforting to know that he has imagined as many terrible outcomes as I have. I put my hand over his, trying to hide the shortness of breath I feel every time someone’s thoughts shock through my body.
“Don’t worry,” I tell him. “I’m coursing with pure adrenaline right now. Not even the wind could sneak up on me.” I make a faint chopping and punching motion as if I’m going to fight the eastern breeze.
Glenquartz smiles and withdraws his hand apologetically. “I’ll be with you in thought. Make me a promise?”
I raise an eyebrow.
“While you’re out there,” he says, “you’ll act like the thieving queen you are.” His excited aura makes laughter bubble in my chest.
“I’ll do my best,” I say with a faint curtsy. “And you make me a promise too? Keep Hat safe.”
“Honest oath.” He nods gravely, then adds, “I swear by everything Nameless.” Glenquartz guides Hat toward one of the gateways of the arena. I watch them until they disappear.
Esther strides to the center of the arena. She wears a pale blue dress that is light enough to be stirred by the breeze and a dark blue jacket that covers her tattoo. Her hair is done up with a white headband that could be mistaken for a crown from far away. She holds the first page of the duel challenger list that has been posted outside the dining hall for nearly six weeks now. The highest-ranked challenger on the paper is General Belrosa, but we have something better than a plan—we have a con.