“I will,” Cyrene told her.
Then, she watched Elea hurry down the corridor. Cyrene slipped back into the chamber just as the patrol rounded the corner once more. Cyrene just hoped that Elea was as reliable as Rhea had claimed she was. As Cyrene so desperately wanted her to be.
Night fell.
Elea did not come.
Cyrene paced the chamber in frustration. Elea should have already been here. Cyrene shouldn’t have waited for her. She should have just left already. It might have been messier, but the anxiety of waiting for help was killing her.
She knew that waiting was the smarter move, but the impulsive side of her personality said to barrel forward. But hadn’t that gotten her here in the first place? Back in Byern, alone, without any of her friends, except Sarielle. Because she was impulsive. Playing at hero. And now, she would prove that she could wait. Wait and wait longer.
She chewed on her lip until it was raw and painful before Elea appeared. She was dressed in all black with a bundle in her arms.
“Cyrene,” she whispered, “are you still there?”
Cyrene sighed in relief and then pushed her way through the entrance. “I’m here.”
“Oh, thank Creator.” Elea thrust the bundle into Cyrene’s hands. “I brought you a cloak. I have no idea how you managed to get into the castle in an all-white dress and a giant sword to begin with, but the black cloak should help.”
“Thank you.” Cyrene tossed it around her shoulders, covering Shadowbreaker.
She didn’t even begin to explain what had happened to her. They didn’t have the time. And it sounded outrageous to her ears, and she had gone through it.
“We must be quick. I don’t know how long the tonic will last. Especially on a day like today.” Elea looped her arm with Cyrene’s and strode forward. “Keep your head down. I know a back way.”
“What do you mean, a day like today?”
“Kael is in an uproar. He tore apart his war council and killed one of his ministers.” Elea cringed.
“Which means…he took in their blood magic,” Cyrene said softly. Her own blood magic rattled within her. An unquenchable ache that pressed against her veins, asking for more at the thought.
Elea nodded. “He’s worse when his energy is restored. And I think the potion won’t hold him as long.”
“You’ve done this before?” Cyrene asked carefully.
“He’s a tough man to live with,” Elea whispered. “I’m sure you understand.”
“That I do.”
Elea dipped her chin and then pressed a nearly invisible latch against a wall. The door hissed inward, and they disappeared inside.
“The hidden tunnels only go so many places. We’ll have to be careful not to run into anyone else in here.”
“Where are we going?”
“To see a contact of mine. She runs the Network out of Byern. I met her through Rhea and Fenix.” Elea glanced at her. “How are they?”
Cyrene’s mood darkened at the thought of Fenix. “In love.”
Elea just grinned. “About time. Fenix seems like he cares about nothing, but it’s just his spy aloofness. When you get to know him, you will come to like him for Rhea.”
“I like him for Rhea,” Cyrene said. The limited time she had seen them together, she had known at once that they were meant for each other. “I don’t like him on my own war council.” Or what had once been hers…
“I’d want him on mine. He’s the best spy in the world.”
“I think you’re giving him a run for his money.”
Elea giggled and then shushed them both.
They remained silent as they navigated darkened tunnels with the ease of someone who did this frequently.
What exactly was Elea’s life like here at court? Cyrene wanted to ask why people were afraid of her like the guard had been, but she was afraid of the answer to her question. Perhaps it made her cowardly. But she was enjoying this time with her sister and didn’t want to break their camaraderie.
“Here,” Elea whispered. She checked an eye-level peephole and then pressed forward into the room.
Standing there was none other than Lady Cauthorn, the very woman who had created both Cyrene’s Presenting ballgown as well as her Consort coronation dress. She was the most talented dressmaker in the entire city, possibly the entire country. And also, someone who already knew exactly who Cyrene was. She had somehow known all along. She had tried to help Cyrene before she was invested as Consort.
“You again,” Cyrene said with a smile.
“Hello, girl,” Lady Cauthorn said. “Oh look, you’ve filled out. Your measurements would be all wrong now.”
Cyrene laughed. “It’s good to see you.”
“I’d say the same, but you should not be here. Byern is the wrong place to be right now. War makes for a bad time to be a dressmaker. I’ve been conscripted to sew uniforms. A dreadful waste of my time and precious fingers.” Lady Cauthorn held up her callous fingers. “Are you ready to depart?”
Cyrene nodded but then turned back to Elea and grasped her hands. “Come with us.”
“I…I can’t,” Elea said. “You need me here on the inside.”
“You don’t have to go through with this,” Lady Cauthorn added.
Cyrene looked at them in confusion. “Go through with what?”
Elea chewed her bottom lip and said nothing.
Lady Cauthorn huffed. “You didn’t tell her?”
“Tell me what?”
“She’s betrothed to the king.”
“Elea!” Cyrene gasped. “You’re to marry Kael?”
“Technically, I was betrothed to an emperor.”
“You can’t go through with it!”
“Shh,” Elea said. “It’s not that serious, Cyrene.”
“Not that serious? You will be married to a murderer, Elea. The man who killed his own brother and sister and will kill anyone who gets close to him. His future wife is not off-limits.”
“He wouldn’t.”
“Don’t be stupid, girl,” Lady Cauthorn said. “He most certainly will.”
“Not to mention, he is now working with the actual goddess of destruction and going to war. He’s not fit to be king, let alone your husband,” Cyrene gushed.
“He can change,” Elea said. “I know how that sounds. I know it sounds like I’m a stupid, naive little girl, but I’m telling you that I’m not. He is different with me. I can reach him. I am the only one he will listen to. And your only source of information. If I leave with you, then you’ll lose that.”
“Elea, please,” Cyrene said. “I don’t need any of that if it comes at the expense of my sister.”
Elea didn’t get a chance to respond when a banging started on the door.
“Open up in the name of His Majesty, King Kael!” a guard shouted.
“Go!” Elea hissed.
Lady Cauthorn grabbed Cyrene’s arm and dragged her across the room.
“Elea, please,” Cyrene pleaded.
“Come on, girl. She’s made up her mind.”
Cyrene met Elea’s gaze one more time in despair before she was stuffed through an opening in the back of the dressing room. A door clicked softly closed in front of them just as the doors burst open on the other side. Cyrene and Lady Cauthorn stood perfectly still. Any movement could give their position away at this point. They both listened through the wall.