Page 15

Apante was glorious.

Unlike Greymere, which was little more than…

well, like its namesake, a gray block of stone, the former Witch Kingdom capital was filled with tall, colorful buildings.

Multi-colored glass windows reflected rainbows onto the streets.

Where the village had been overwhelming with a few scattered visitors, the City of Answers boasted hundreds of travelers that arrived every day.

Raphael and I blended in with the crowd.

With the disguise magic in place and hood over his head, Raphael was able to move easily through the streets.

Unnervingly so—if anything, he had more ease with the vendors than I did.

He strolled up to a cart and returned with breakfast in the form of shaved meat, wrapped in a flat bread.

The food of peasants—my mother would never have let me eat something so unrefined, especially with my hands.

It was delicious.

“You still haven’t told me what you need me to ask,” I reminded Raphael, glancing up at him between bites of food.

Alphonse was settled into a stable at the front of the city. The streets were too crowded for people to move easily through with a horse, so we walked side by side, just as we had in the forest.

“Patience, dove.”

I huffed. We needed to request an audience with the Librarians. Then, I’d hold up my end of the bargain, and we’d go our separate ways.

I’d be alone. Again.

Trumpets sounded. The mass of people parted on cue, with Raphael and I getting swept to the side.

With my short stature, it was hard to see past the crowds, but curiosity compelled me forward.

A few moments later, I understood what the commotion was.

Brilliant white horses marched forward, two by two, led by a large stallion that carried Prince Marcel the Bountiful.

Women cheered loudly at the sight of him, and then everyone turned frantic as he tossed handfuls of coins out to the crowds. A few coins turned into a hundred by the time they landed. Children dove between the adults, keen eyes working with tiny fingers to try to win against each other.

As he passed us, he tossed a handful right at us. Perhaps I should’ve reached—I was hardly any better off than the beggars on the street, only a few of Raphael’s stolen coins lining my purse. Instead, all I could do was stare.

He had the same chestnut hair as all those years ago, his eyes kind and guileless. The people of Eurobis might fear their Storm-Blooded King, but they loved Marcel. His smile was broad, disguise magic perfecting his teeth that had been crooked as a child.

Twelve years was a long, long time. I hadn’t felt the years stolen from as acutely until the moment his gaze slid over our section.

There was no recognition when he turned away to throw more coins to the other side.

A relief, of course, that no one from the royal family recognized me, but not an unexpected one.

I was a nobody. Besides, as a precaution, I’d used a card to disguise myself before we entered the city in case word had spread from Greymere.

My hair was a color that seemed fashionable with the women of the day—lavender—my eyes an average blue.

The remainder of the magic I used to twist my features just slightly, changing my nose and chin enough that Raphael had rolled his eyes at me.

“Is that the type of boy you like? Not a nice village one, but a royal one? ”

Of course the vampire missed nothing. Still, I couldn’t force myself to turn away until the accompanying entourage of carriages and horses totally blocked my view.

As long as he didn’t guess the real reason I was staring at the prince, I was safe.

“You killed the nice village one, remember?”

Raphael grinned like he was proud of the murder, his smile flashing too-sharp canines that even magic couldn’t fix. I looked away, disgusted.

With him, or with myself, I wasn’t sure.

I didn’t forgive him for the murder, but I was able to make myself look past it with disturbing ease.

Like with Nelson. Maybe Thomas wouldn’t have killed me, but it felt like survival all the same.

Raphael, for all his monstrous traits, had kept me safe and gotten me to the city.

“Come on.” I shoved past our neighbors, turning from the crowd even while others remained to watch. “We won’t get to any Librarians today. This must be his pilgrimage.”

“His pilgrimage?” Raphael asked.

I snorted. Something I knew about Eurobis that the vampire didn’t. The list shouldn’t have been as short as it was, considering it was my kingdom. But that’s what a long life got him, and a decade of servitude had gotten me.

“Not sure why I should tell you,” I said, half-heartedly.

“You definitely shouldn’t,” Raphael agreed. “But perhaps I could answer a question for you in exchange for soothing my curiosity. ”

We were past the crowds now. Somehow, even though I was the one who had pushed to leave, Raphael was once again leading. Like he couldn’t help himself.

“Anything?” I asked, considering.

That was a powerful offer. Tempting.

“As long as telling you would not endanger my kingdom,” he corrected.

“That’s hardly fair, since you want to know state secrets.”

Raphael rolled his disguised eyes at me. “I could simply enthrall another off the street to tell me.”

“Then why don’t you?” I countered.

“Perhaps because I want you to be the one to tell me. Though if you’d like to use that as your question, by all means.”

Fine. He made a fair point, and I might as well get something from it.

“The pilgrimage is a trip made after the royal heir turns eighteen. There’s meant to be a specific prophecy for every ruler for the next thousand years.

It’s the only time the royal family is allowed to ask the Librarians for counsel.

If they attempt at any other time, their requests are ignored, even though the Librarians will hear other requests.

” The ruling line didn’t get to choose what question the Librarians answered, either.

“Because of what the royals did to seers.”

“What the seers made them do,” I corrected, just as I’d been taught .

It was said Apante had previously been the capital of Eurobis because that was where seers were strongest. But several hundred years ago, some king had decided to build up Ulryne as the new capital, right in the center of the continent—as far from the vampires as possible. Seers were immediately outlawed.

Raphael scoffed. “Just because some king felt threatened that someone knew more than he did.”

“It’s said to be a betrayal of the throne to have powers greater than that of the king.” That’s what we were taught. It was pedantic to argue with the vampire over the point. Even as a child, those two things had sounded similar to me, though my mother had insisted there was a difference.

All witches must pay a tithe to the king. Yet the seers give it only at their discretion. They may say no to the king, but yes to a peasant who asked. It was treasonous , she’d told me. She never said a single thing against the royal family—or at least, not against King Vaughn.

“And for that so-called betrayal, he ordered them all put to death.” There was no mistaking the disgust in Raphael’s voice, the curl in his lips. “But still they grasp on to slivers of that power.”

It was hard to argue that point.

Before the seers had been killed, they had stored their magic in the Great Library.

Even now, all these years later, their cards remained.

The Librarians, though not seers themselves, guarded that knowledge, along with more traditional books, and dedicated themselves to understanding the world around us.

Any witch or void could ask for their guidance—once.

Because of the exile, even the king himself would be turned away if he asked for any more than what he’d been given during his pilgrimage.

Marcel was already eighteen.

It had felt like my life had frozen while I’d been in Greymere. That obviously wasn’t the case.

“My turn.” I could’ve asked him for vampire weaknesses or something useful, but one question had bothered me for days. “Why did you let yourself get captured?”

“Let?” Raphael drawled. “What makes you think I let myself get chained in copper and shoved into a dark prison?”

“Don’t play dumb. You can enthrall humans, and I’ve seen you fight. Or rather, I’ve seen you kill. It’s not even fair to call those fights .”

Raphael was quiet for a long beat. I wondered if he’d go back on his word.

“You’re observant, I’ll give you that,” he eventually said with something that bordered on respect in his tone.

“Well?” I prodded.

“I was looking for something. I was led to believe I’d find it near the witch prison. When I didn’t find it, I decided to let some pompous guards think they’d found me, and enthralled them into imprisoning me rather than attempting to decapitate me.”

“But why? What were you looking for? ”

“I’ve answered your question. If you wanted more details, you should’ve been more specific.”

I huffed a breath in frustration. He’d let them put him in copper shackles, turning him weak as a mortal while they whipped him for days?

His thrall might have stopped the first set of guards from decapitating him, but a new set could have done so.

I still wasn’t convinced his thrall worked in Greymere—he’d have been defenseless.

For a vampire who planned to live a “very long time,” he’d risked coming to a bloody end in chains.

What under the gods’s sun could he have been looking for?

“Is this what your question to the Librarians is about?”

Raphael didn’t answer. I hid my grin and took it as a yes.

I should’ve dropped it. Once I asked the question, my bargain was fulfilled, and we’d go our separate ways.

But the vampire was a puzzle. And I was terrible at resisting puzzles.