Page 40 of A Crown of Tears and Treason (The Curse of Silver Secrets and Cruel Shadows #1)

Chapter

Forty

EVIE

G oose entered the kitchen with an empty tray, reciting some kind of poem under his breath. “Your laughter is a melody, pure and clear, it brings joy to my life, drawing near–”

“Hello, Goose.”

He dropped the tray, whirling around, hand on his heart and eyes wide with shadows I couldn’t make sense of. The clank reverberated between the stone walls of the kitchen, echoing on a loop in the stillness.

“No, no, no.” I rushed forward from behind the large furnace. “It’s me.”

“Your Grace.” Goose took a ragged breath. “I apologize for my reaction–”

“Don’t worry. I’m sorry I scared you.” I drew closer as carefully as my cousins used to do with me when I’d first come back. There was something about Goose in this moment that I recognized down to my core. The jittery aura of someone who had been unfairly surprised by life and unprotected when they’d been too young, too fresh in this world, and was now fleetingly unnerved by the smallest twist.

“What–what are you doing here?” Goose asked, shaking his head. Then an idea seemed to light up his face. “Are you hungry ? Fantastic, I have a lamb shoulder crisping up–”

Ah, so that was the mouth-watering scent I’d been enduring in silence hidden in the shadows, waiting for him to show up. “I’m sure it’ll be great, but later.”

“Alright.” His brows furrowed. “Then why…?”

“Because I have a plan. Something that needs to be done on an empty stomach. Something only you can help me with,” I said. “And something Zandyr and Adara can’t know about. Yet.”

“Far be it from me to criticize your decisions, Your Grace,” Goose whispered so low, even I struggled to hear him. “But this seems unwise.”

“It is unwise,” I whispered back as we rushed through the plump bushes of Phoenix Peak, on the small, deserted paths behind the grand temple I’d mapped out during my first weeks here. Small wonder nobody smelled us coming with the amount of stealth ointment we’d dabbed on our clothes. “It’s also necessary.”

“Why couldn’t I tell the prince or Adara?” He gulped. “This seems like the kind of thing they should know about. In case something…happens.”

Because both of them would have told me not to risk it. And perhaps try to stop me.

I’d already asked Zandyr about the Quoriliths and he hadn’t given me much to go by. He also didn’t mention the remnants of that Clan had been absorbed by his own.

I wasn’t about to discuss this issue with Goose, before I knew for sure why. My mind concocted one grim scenario after another without any outside help.

How could Zandyr not tell me?

As for Adara…she had been behaving strangely ever since that tumble in the courtyard. We still trained, but the words were short, clipped, and rare.

I had to know the truth. If nobody was in a sharing mood, I’d find it myself.

“We’ll be fine,” I said, fingers running down the vials on my armor. The blood inside them whirled around in warning. “It’s not like we’re going into enemy territory. We’re visiting a library.”

“The Senate’s Sacred Archives, Your Grace. It’s more guarded than the temples.”

I stared up at the building towering in front of us, its mighty shadow darkening our path in the setting sun. It was a big, square construction, with sharp towers at every corner. Encased between them was a dome large enough to cover my entire house. Its glass was embossed with similar symbols to the ones Zandyr had painted on his own dome.

Though there were trees closeby, no vines or flowers dared approach these towers. They gleamed white in the light, powerful and menacing, reaching for the skies.

“That’s why we’ll be extra careful,” I said, either to convince myself or Goose, I didn’t know. “It’s going to be alright.”

Goose let out a wheeze of panic as we rushed forward.

“I’ll be quick, I promise,” I said. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” he said, so fast and without a hint of hesitation that I almost missed a step.

“Truly?” I asked, disbelieving. He didn’t exactly know me. I trusted Goose enough for him to lead me inside the intimidating building and be the only one who knew I was in there. I’d seen the worry in his face when he’d patched up my leg day after day, and the way he made sure I ate, but I hadn’t done anything to earn his trust. “Why?”

“Because you’re kind,” he said simply.

“A lot of people are.”

He huffed a sad laugh. “In a Clan that values strength above all else, a boy who prefers books to the sparring range doesn’t receive much kindness.”

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. That explained the jitteriness from before and it made me want to hug those awful memories out of Goose.

“Why?” He frowned. “You’re not responsible for it.”

Empathy also seemed to be lacking in this Clan. Though I’d heard how Silas kept ignoring Allie’s requests for information about the state of the Protectorate, so perhaps it was a general Clan problem.

Goose slowed his steps as we neared the road. “They’re doing it.”

With aplomb, too. Six guards had been cutting a menacing line in the front of the library, right underneath its massive, branching glass arch. They broke up in perfect synchronization.

Five of them turned on their heels at the same time, thumping their spears against the ground as they stepped away, rounding the corner. Only one remained, left in the searing sun.

“I know him,” I whispered from the corner of my mouth.

He was the guard who’d actually looked at me with something other than cold detachment. Who had been missing from my fence for weeks.

“That’s Owyn.” Goose walked so fast, his long legs looked like they would snap away from the rest of his body. I struggled to keep up. He would have been a great runner. “I saw him sneer at Banu’s back, and I heard the advisors ignored his requests for medicine for his daughter. We might be able to trust him.”

“Might?” Also, someone was getting a mysterious delivery of medicine first thing next morning–if I survived today. Goose had made it perfectly clear that while he adored the knowledge the Archives provided, it was a very dangerous place.

As we breached the safety of the greenery and crossed the deserted street, Owyn narrowed his eyes on me. Not Goose. Me. He tightened his hold on the spear.

“Your Grace.” He didn’t bow.

“We’re here to take a peek at a history book Her Grace needs for the wedding,” Goose interjected quickly; there was a soft sheen of sweat on his brows. We didn’t have much time until the next shift of guards came.

“The Archives are closed for the day,” Owyn said.

“Her Grace didn’t want to disturb the students’ studies.”

Owyn hummed. “Do you both have special clearance?”

Goose gulped.

I took a step forward. “I need more information about my future role. I understand you have countless books about past Blood Brotherhood leaders and traditions.”

His lips twisted with disapproval. “Be that as it may–”

If I didn’t do something fast, we wouldn't be getting in. I knew it, Owyn knew it, and Goose was about to find out.

“Why did you leave the group of guards entrusted with protecting me?” I asked.

Owyn’s frown deepened. “I was ordered to.”

My mind raced with possibilities, all of them ugly. “Why?”

“The advisors, in their infinite wisdom–” He spit the words out. “–decided I wasn’t doing my duty properly.”

“You were guarding me just fine.”

Owyn’s eyes narrowed. “I had many duties, Your Grace.”

To report, to spread rumors, maybe even to bring that snake into my house. Whatever Owyn had refused to do, he’d been punished for it.

“Thank you,” I said.

“You shouldn’t,” Owyn said as his eyes shined with surprise.

“And yet I did. Where do you live, Owyn?”

His hold on the spear tightened even more. “In the Capital.”

“Where, precisely?” This needed to end fast. The pounding of the next guards already resounded from behind the building. But Owyn, knowingly or not, had helped me by refusing to participate in whatever the advisors had planned. Having principles was so rare and he’d been penalized for it. “I understand your little one needs medicine and your request has been denied.”

The color drained from Goose and the guard’s faces.

“I meant no disrespect.” Owyn’s voice and spear shook as his shoulders caved. The change in him was stark. He was terrified. “The advisors know best and they decide who is worthy or not. They have decided my precious little–my daughter doesn’t…I trust their judgment. As should all.”

There was fear in Owyn’s eyes, glowing desperately.

“Trust your future queen,” I said with all the gravity grandpa Constantine had tried to instill in me. “And I say a child, yours or otherwise, is worthy of help. Let us in or not, your child won’t suffer for it.”

The guard gulped.

The seconds ticked.

The marching guards drew closer.

Owyn took out a scraggly key that looked to have changed thousands of hands throughout the years. He inserted it into the lock, chanting under his breath. A hiss vibrated through the enormous door as it opened.

“I never saw you,” Owyn whispered as I and Goose rushed inside.

The door fastened behind us with too many bolts digging inside the frame, sealing us inside.

Goose swallowed thickly, the sound echoing in the cavernous space. “Now the dangerous part begins.”