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“Damn if I know.” I stopped near where the man had been passed out upon our entry, but he was now gone. A heartbeat passed. “She had it with her the other night at the Red Pearl.”

“Really?” He drew out the word.

I nodded. “Shocked the piss out of me. She said she knew how to use it.” I tilted my head. “Guess she does to some extent.”

Kieran shook his head as he turned his stare to the moon. “A Maiden with a wolven-bone dagger and, at the very least, no fear when it comes to using it?” One side of his lips tipped up. “Why do I have a feeling we may have underestimated her?”

I let out a short, low laugh. “Because I think we did.”

A GOOD MAN

The rites of death in Solis weren’t all that different from those held in my home. Performed either at dusk or dawn, the bodies were carefully wrapped and then set on fire as it was recognized in both kingdoms that what remained upon death was nothing more than a shell. The soul had already moved on to the Vale or the Abyss, depending on what kind of life one lived.

The Ascended hadn’t completely butchered that, at least.

The main differences were that those who stood in attendance as the sun began its climb above the Undying Hills, its bright glare reflecting off the black stone of the Temple walls celebrating Rhahar, the Eternal God; and Ione, the Goddess of Rebirth, believed Rhahar was waiting for Rylan Keal’s soul. Rhahar, like Ione and all the other gods, even the King of Gods and his Consort, slept. I had no idea how souls were ushered, but one would think they had some process in place before they went to sleep.

The second difference was that no one representing the Crown was in attendance. At home, the King and Queen, along with the Council of Elders who aided in ruling Atlantia, attended the last rites of all the guards who served them. In other cities, the Lords and Ladies tended to the funerals, paying the respect due to a life either served or ended in service of the kingdom. Here, no one from the Crown attended. Not the Duchess, the Duke, nor the numerous members of Court. Granted, none of them could step foot in sunlight without going up in flames. Of course, they had an excuse for that, claiming they couldn’t walk in the sun because the gods couldn’t.

Which had to be the most uncreative excuse ever.

They could’ve held the funerals at dusk. Or, at the very least, sent Lords and Ladies in Wait, those who hadn’t yet Ascended.

However, they hadn’t.

They didn’t care enough.

I rubbed a hand on the back of my neck as I stood among the other guards, fully aware of the hypocrisy of my irritation regarding the Blood Crown’s lack of respect when I was attending the last rites of a man whose death I’d ordered.

One who was said to be good.

Who didn’t deserve to die.

Whose blood would forever stain my hands.

A hushed murmur swept through the line of guards before me, drawing me from my thoughts. A few turned, looking over their shoulders. Brows furrowing, I followed their stares.

My lips parted as shock rippled through me. I blinked, thinking I was hallucinating, likely due to the single hour of sleep I’d gotten, courtesy of old memories deciding to pay a visit. It was the only logical explanation for what I saw. Or who.

The Maiden.

She walked beside Vikter in her white robes and veil, the golden chains holding the latter in place gleaming in the rising sun.

I stared, as dumbfounded as the others clearly were. No one expected her to attend. I sure as hell hadn’t. It didn’t matter that Rylan Keal had been her guard. The Maiden was never seen in public like this, not without the Duke or Duchess. I watched her and Vikter come to a stop near the back of the crowd. He stared straight ahead. She stood with her chin bowed slightly, hands clasped.

I quickly looked away as the murmurings quieted. An odd feeling hit me as I stood there while Keal’s linen-wrapped body was carried forth and lifted onto the pyre. It was…a churning in my gut and chest. Her presence unsettled me.

The respect she showed the fallen guard.

I glanced over at her, my heart thumping. She stood so still I would’ve thought her one of the statues lining the gardens she liked to visit at dusk. I doubted she could see much of the pyre from her position, as nearly all those who stood before her were taller. As the Maiden, she could’ve walked right to the front and stood among the Royal Guards. That was where Vikter should be, but he remained affixed to her side. She could sit at the feet of that damn pyre if she wanted to, but I thought her quiet arrival right before the beginning of the service said she didn’t want to draw too much attention.