And if so, she thought, sinking down into the water to wash the suds from her hair, could I really deliver her to her death?
Despite the warm water she soaked in, Safire shivered.
She lay still, considering the dilemma over and over, trying to find a solution. The bath was so warm, and Safire was so tired, that after a short while, she fell asleep.
She woke to a sound in the bedroom. Bolting upright in the now-cold water, it sloshed over the tub. Safire sat perfectly still, listening as she gripped the cool ceramic sides. But no sound came from the room beyond this one.
Slowly, she lifted herself from the bath and wrapped herself in a towel, peering through the doorway.
At first, she saw nothing unusual or out of place. It was only as she began toweling her hair, scanning the room for a second time, that she saw the dress hanging over the chair in front of the vanity. A dress that hadn’t been there before she got in the bath.
Safire approached, all her senses on high alert. The dress was sky blue and she ran her fingers across the tightly woven wool threads. She looked for the weaver’s mark, but all she could find was a tiny silver star embroidered into the sleeve of the left wrist.
Lifting the fabric, she pressed it to her face and breathed in.
It smelled like the sea.
Like Eris.
Her skin prickled at the thought.
Safire lowered the dress, looking slowly around. But there was no other sign of the Death Dancer walking her rooms while she bathed.
Maybe she was wrong. Maybe the dress was a gift from the empress, as a thank-you for the information she’d given. After all, Eris would never venture inside the citadel of the enemy she’d been running from for seven years.
Whoever gave her the dress, it was the only thing Safire had to wear, seeing as her only other clothes were in a grimy, salt-encrusted pile on the floor.
She had only just pulled the dress over her head when a knock came on the door.
“Commandant?”
Safire recognized the voice. It belonged to one of Roa’s personal guards. A young woman named Saba.
“Yes?” Safire called as the dress cascaded down her.
“The dragon queen is wondering where you are.”
Safire frowned as she reached to fasten the button at the back of the neck. “Clearly I’m right here,” she said, swinging open the door.
Saba stood before her, dressed in her soldat uniform with the dragon queen’s emblem proudly displayed across her chest: a white hawk in a circle of jacaranda flowers. “The banquet started a little while ago,” Saba said, her dark brown curls circling her head like a cloud.
A little while ago? thought Safire. How long was I asleep?
“Shall I tell her you’re on your way?” Saba offered.
Safire touched her damp hair, then nodded. “I’ll be right there.”
As soon as Saba left, Safire twisted her hair into a knot, then pinned it quickly into place. Before leaving for the banquet, she did another scan of the room, even going so far as to look under the bed and inside the chest full of blankets.
But she was alone.
At the bottom of a spiraling staircase in the heart of the citadel, the noise of wind instruments playing a reel wafted down to her as a glass chandelier hung from the ceiling four stories above. Its blue and white glass threw glittering light all down the wide staircase.
Safire paused on the bottommost step. Ever since Dax promoted her to commandant, Safire attended official events in uniform. As Safire smoothed the woolen dress over her hips now, she felt exposed and vulnerable.
Sucking in a breath, she started upward, needing to find Dax and tell him everything she’d learned. She climbed the steps until she reached the uppermost floor, where two Lumina stood guard at the entrance to the grand ballroom.
Safire stepped into the biggest room she’d ever seen. Bigger than any of Firgaard’s courts. Rows of columns ran from end to end, holding up the glass roof. The archway depicted monsterlike creatures cast in gold, and the white walls were broken up by floor-to-ceiling windows where guests stood talking and drinking as the moon rose over the city below.
It was times like this when Safire most felt like an imposter. All around her, people were dressed in silks and furs and glittering baubles, in rich purples and yellows and blues. Yes, she was a princess, related by blood to the dragon king. Yes, she’d been born in a palace. But those things didn’t tell the whole story—one of a girl who’d been kept out of sight of the court, kept away from her own cousins. Ashamed of and despised because of the choice her father made. Because of who her mother was.
She might be a princess, but she hadn’t been raised as one. And she’d never belonged in places like this.
Safire spotted Roa and Dax across the room, within view of their guards, speaking with the empress. Between them and Safire, however, stood Raif. The young soldier who’d escorted her through Axis last night. He was speaking with his captain, Caspian, and Safire thought she heard him say her name, then cast his gaze out over the room, looking hopeful.
Safire was not in the mood to deal with Raif. Before his eyes fell on her, she turned on her heel . . . and walked straight into a starry crest.
“Draw attention,” came a familiar voice, “and you’ll never hear what I’ve come to warn you about.”
Safire’s gaze lifted.
Eris stood before her wearing a stolen Lumina uniform that hugged her curves: black shirt, black leggings, gray calf-high boots. Her blond hair was knotted loosely at her nape, and a soldier’s cap shielded the upper part of her face.
The sight of her unearthed a storm of feelings in Safire.
She knew what she should do: grab Eris and yell for reinforcements. But if she did that, what would happen? If a petty pirate like Kor had gotten no trial, neither would Eris. The empress would certainly execute her.
Safire glanced around the room full of Eris’s worst enemies and whispered, “Are you out of your damned mind?”
Twenty-Seven
Eris hadn’t meant to walk out into that crowd of people. She’d meant to only stand in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to get Safire alone. But as Eris watched Safire step into the room, she’d seen the change come over her.
In an instant, Safire was no longer the cousin to a king. No longer the commander of his army. Somehow, that room transformed her into someone small and lost and alone.
Eris couldn’t stand it.
So, fool that she was, she went to her.
Her whole body buzzed with unease. Her hands were slick with sweat. But at those words from Safire—Are you out of your damned mind?—the fear drained out of her.
Safire wasn’t going to alert them to her presence.
Why? What had changed?
She shook off the question. Pressing her free hand firmly against the small of Safire’s back, Eris led her to the far end of this uselessly large room, then pushed her out between lush gold curtains and onto one of the balconies.
Eris pulled the curtain closed, concealing them both from view. The mist was thick around them.
Safire spun to face her. The sight of her made Eris’s heart beat twice as fast.
Her black hair was twisted up in its usual knot, held in place by one of her throwing knives, and she wore the blue dress Eris left in her bedroom. The hue complemented her eyes perfectly.
“She killed them,” Safire blurted out.