Page 5 of A Promise of Lies (Shadows of the Tenebris Court #3)
4
Kat
W herever I was led, I went. I was vaguely aware of the lavish decoration, though everything seemed to float past, not quite real, not quite obeying the laws of gravity.
Then again, laws seemed unimportant when Cyrus had done this… when he was now King Cyrus.
I managed to paste a faint smile in place, like I wasn’t concerned about being in Dawn’s side of the palace. Like this would all be fine and I was perfectly safe because I trusted my host implicitly and there was no reason for them not to trust me.
All perfectly fine.
Everything was absolutely, entirely, positively, utterly fucking fine.
But my heart knew the truth, hammering too hard and too fast, making it feel like something was caught in my throat. Or maybe I was going to be sick.
Still, I smiled, and I walked.
Cyrus caught up with our little procession of guards and guests, swaggering to the front. The golden crown of Dawn glistened under the fae lights. He hadn’t been officially crowned yet, but that didn’t seem to matter—he wore it, and I had to admit, he wore it well.
This was reality, a glint of it breaking through my stupor.
I fixed my gaze on that glittering metal, and gripped my hands hard even though it crushed my fingers painfully against Bastian’s ring. I clung on to those reminders of reality. I couldn’t afford to go away, however tempting it might be.
Maybe the new king felt my gaze, because he glanced back and when he caught me staring, he smiled. Sharp, white teeth shone almost as much as his crown.
I dipped my head—an obedient girl who didn’t dare be so bold as to meet a king’s eye.
Obedience would serve me well here. I could retreat to those well-worn paths.
Out the corner of my eye, I spotted the old king’s assistant, Adra, slip into place at Cyrus’s side and say something.
“The time?” Cyrus’s voice filled the corridor as he tossed his head. “Why the hells should I give a damn about the time?”
“Your Majesty , the Sleep.” Her ashy blond hair bobbed as she widened her eyes at him.
“Fucking Sleep.” He stopped and spun on his heel, giving us a dazzling smile. “My dearest guests, forgive my terrible hosting, but I must leave you now. I am sure you will all be most intrigued by all that Dawn Court has to offer.” He spread his hands as if welcoming us to a party rather than to a prison, and his gaze paused its passage over the group, resting on me. Without looking away, he angled his mouth to Adra’s ear and murmured something.
Particular attention. On me. Shit.
If he realised I knew he was the one who’d killed his father, I was dead.
So I forced my smile a little wider, a little brighter, and told myself it was a good thing when he gave Adra an approving nod before sweeping away.
My churning stomach kept me anchored in the here and now as Adra led us through the corridors. We passed pale servants and courtiers whose red-rimmed eyes revealed they’d been crying.
They were in mourning… and they were also in danger, even if they didn’t realise.
Cyrus had staged this attack. He’d had all those people killed— his own people. All in order to kill his father and take the throne. What was it—he’d grown bored of waiting?
Whatever his reasons, these fae were expendable in his eyes.
How long would it take their numbers to rebuild after today?
My chest cracked at the memory of Bastian’s sorrow as he’d told me about their wars, the lives lost, and how their population had never recovered. I could see his face, the grief in it, the desperation to never allow something like that to happen again.
Meanwhile, Cyrus did this and was all smiles and swagger.
“Katherine? Katherine Ferrers?”
It took a moment to yank myself out of my racing thoughts and realise we’d stopped. The other “guests” parted so Adra could look up from her notebook to me. “You’ll be in here for tonight.”
A servant opened the door as Adra turned to another guest and assigned them the room opposite.
I was ushered inside, the lock clunked behind me, and like that, I was alone in Dawn.
Darkness obscured the room, and I blinked into it, welcoming the nothingness after the day’s sensory clamour.
But it was short-lived as a familiar voice came from outside. “I’m here to see Lady Katherine.”
Caelus?
“Let me through.”
“I’m afraid not,” a woman replied. “The prince—uh, the king has said they’re not to have any visitors.”
A glimmer of hope kindled in me. “Caelus,” I called through the door.
“Katherine?”
Metal clinked outside—I recognised the sound of spears clashing together, and I could picture guards blocking his way.
“Sun and Stars, I’m not about to break in there, you idiots,” he huffed. “Calm yourselves. I’m sure His Majesty’s orders didn’t specify she couldn’t speak to someone through a door, did they?”
A moment’s silence, followed by Caelus, “I thought not.” Then, louder, “Are you all right?”
Despite the hope lighting in me, calming my nerves, I bit my tongue. Could he be an ally in dawn? Possibly?
He’d helped me before. So, probably?
Then again, I had given him arianmêl and taken advantage of its effects to get answers about unCavendish’s pearlwort necklace.
Either way, anything I said now would be heard by the guards and anyone else close by. This wasn’t the time to seek comfort and confess my fears.
“I’m… I’m fine.”
But that word broke me.
It was as though saying it let all the adrenaline seep away at last, leaving my body shaking, throat closing.
I was alone. Separated from Bastian and my friends by a different plane of reality.
I was trapped. Penned in with Cyrus and gods knew how many fae who hated Bastian and had no doubt seen us dance today.
I was unsafe. Perhaps the most unsafe I’d been in my entire life.
Because these were fae. They’d had centuries to dream up cruelties I couldn’t imagine. They had power that made my magic seem like a pathetic candle flame against an inferno. They could only be killed by iron, aconite, or fae-worked weapons, while there were a thousand inventive methods that could end my life.
“If you’re sure?” Caelus called back. “I’ll speak to His Majesty—I’m sure he’ll let me see you.”
“Great. Night.” I couldn’t form any more of a reply with that, fighting against the way my chest wanted to gasp every breath as I pushed my palms against the door.
Hardness. The wood. Focus on those things. What can you feel? What can you see? It was Bastian’s voice in my head.
The smooth lacquer. Dampness on my cheeks.
Three more things. That would bring me back from this spiral.
I sucked in a breath, held it, then managed to choke out, “ Lumis .” Fae lights sprang into existence.
Moss green carpet. Gold-green trim on the door, the colour of aspen leaves.
I managed to take a steadier breath, then another, before pushing away from the door and hugging myself tightly.
My arms around myself, hands squeezing my biceps.
Five things. Real. Here. Now. Like Bastian had showed me when I’d been so afraid and broken in his rooms back in Lunden.
I needed him to wrap me in a towel and squeeze me close. I needed to know he was nearby, ready to tell a rude aristocrat to keep my name out of his mouth. I needed…
I needed him .
But…
That was impossible. A powerless wish.
He wasn’t here.
I took a long breath and held it.
Perhaps I could channel him—do for myself the things he would. I squeezed myself tighter and nodded.
He would check the room over like he had on our journey to the Lady of the Lake. Entrances, exits, spy holes.
I should do that.
A yawn seized me and weariness swept in from a day of…
I scrubbed my too hot eyes. The wedding, the attack, discovering King Lucius dying, helping Bastian search the palace for attackers… the throne room. Had that really been just one day?
I would do my security check after a moment sitting down—that wouldn’t do any harm. It was a small bedroom, though carefully decorated in shades of cream and green. The bed at its centre called to me. I sat on the edge, unable to stop myself sighing as the covers puffed up around me, making it feel like I sank deeper and deeper with each second.
Just a moment’s rest, I told myself as I yawned and kicked off my shoe.