Page 7 of A Promise of Lies (Shadows of the Tenebris Court #3)

6

Kat

A s Adra led me away from tea with my guard trailing us, I wondered about Zita’s potential help and what it might mean. Hadn’t I been searching for an ally? But could she and Sepher be trusted? He was Cyrus’s brother, after all.

We weaved through corridors, not heading back to my rooms, I soon realised. Although there was something familiar about the route. I must’ve gone through this part of the palace during the attack.

We passed servants cleaning rooms, removing broken furniture and supervising mops that seemed to move on their own. The lilting hum of their magic spilled from open doorways into the hall.

At last we reached a set of double doors that opened into an antechamber containing a huge gilt mirror. Leaving my guard outside, Adra led me in. “His Majesty apologises for the lowly condition of your accommodation last night.”

So these were his personal rooms—that explained the oversized mirror. I could picture him practising heroic poses in front of it.

As funny as I found the image, he was king now, and all the more dangerous. I swallowed and straightened, preparing for a private audience with His Majesty. Appear the calm, unthreatening human woman. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Adra continued into a sitting room furnished in shades of cream, with marble panelled walls veined gold and pink. If there had been any doubt I stood in Dawn’s side of the palace, the fireplace would’ve quashed it. Made of the same marble, it dominated one wall of the room, carved rays spreading from the pink-tinged fire, like it was the rising sun.

Certainly grand enough for a fae king, and for once I was grateful for the strict teaching of my father and countless governesses, as it helped me avoid fidgeting.

“We had to vacate their previous occupants, but new rooms have now been prepared, which we trust will meet with your approval.” Adra spread her arms in presentation.

I smiled. I blinked. I slowly, horribly understood.

These were my rooms.

Not the cosy little room that spelled out how unimportant and barely noticeable I was, but an entire suite, lavishly decorated. She started to explain how it had two bedrooms, a study, a private dining room, and three well-appointed bathrooms.

I swallowed down my heart, which was trying to punch its way out of my throat with each beat. Magic tingled over my skin, though I held my power on a tight leash. “The king is far, far too generous. This isn’t necessary. I’m sure?—”

“I’m sure Lady Katherine will get almost as much pleasure from her using these rooms as I will.” Cyrus’s voice came from behind me, making even my clamouring heart fall still for a long moment. “That will be all, Adra. I can show the lady around. Besides, we have a small matter to discuss.”

“Your Majesty,” I managed to say on a breath as I turned to him and bowed. I kept that pleased and appeasing smile on my face—unCavendish had enjoyed my fear and I had a feeling Cyrus was the same. If I showed any, it would only encourage him to try to frighten me further.

I had to play the part of the perfect guest.

“It is such a pleasure to see you here, Katherine.” He smirked down at me. Power hummed from him—the tingling I’d felt earlier—far more than before, like he was gaining strength now he ruled Dawn.

“Allow me to show you around. I chose this suite for you, especially.” With a glint in his eye, he led the way, seeming to watch me expectantly.

To appease him, I widened my eyes at the size of the rooms and exclaimed over the decoration, though I preferred the cosiness of Dusk’s side of the palace. Dawn was too bright, too light, too much like a great cloud that I might drift away on and never come back.

All the while, something crawled along at the back of my mind. Something familiar about the space, something in the look he gave me.

“And this completes the tour.” He spread his arms, standing at the centre of the main bedroom.

The strange sensation crawled down my spine as I eyed the huge bed with its gauzy drapes.

“It’s beautiful. Your Majesty does me too high an honour—such a gorgeous suite of rooms and a personal tour. I’m sure I’m not deserving of such attention.” I looked down, perfectly humble.

“Oh, but you are, aren’t you?” With a slow smile, he sauntered closer. “You’re special in so many ways—kept by the Night Queen’s Shadow, a human who not only survived poison, but gained magic. Quite incredible.”

In the long pause that followed, I could feel his close attention, but I didn’t dare return it. I’d used my gift enough that it was no surprise the news had reached him. Though I noted he considered me “kept” by Bastian rather than some other word like “beloved.”

“Which brings me to that small matter.” He reached into his inside pocket and produced a flat box, similar in shape to a jewellery box, except this wasn’t covered in velvet but a dull, grey metal. It clunked open, more like a prison lock than a trinket box, and revealed a solid, hinged bracelet and a tiny key. He stiffened and took a long breath.

Then I felt it. The taint of iron.

Even coated in silver, it made my magic scatter, agitated. My chest constricted.

“I’m sure you understand why I can’t take any chances with such a… deadly power in my court.”

He meant to block my magic.

“Of course, Your Majesty.” My voice sounded remarkably level.

“Then allow me to do the honours. Just to be sure it’s secure.”

I held out my wrist, fixing the smile on my lips, while he donned gloves and removed the bracelet from the case. With a soft click , it fastened around my wrist, and the constant vibration of magic around me vanished. It was like I suddenly couldn’t hear, and I found myself swallowing, trying to make my ears pop.

He turned the tiny key, causing another clunk-click , then smiled. “ There .” His shoulders sank, and I was shocked to read relief on his face.

For all I’d been putting on a show, hiding my fear, he’d…

It seemed ridiculous, but he’d been afraid of me. He knew I could poison him with a thought. Maybe I should have done so—fuck the consequences.

Except that would most likely lead to war between Dusk and Dawn—not to mention my own death.

He held up the key and inspected it. “Such a little thing, yet so important.” His gaze slid to me. “And now it’s mine .” He dropped the key into his inside pocket and patted it. “I’ll be sure to keep it close.”

Sickness rose in my stomach, and I barely had time to mutter “Excuse me” before running to the bathroom to throw up. How had I grown used to this disgusting stuff before?

After splashing water on my face, I emerged. Cyrus wandered around the bedroom, touching the chest of clothes that had been brought from my previous room, running his fingers over the hairbrush on the dressing table.

I swallowed down another wave of nausea as he fingered a silky dressing robe set over the back of a chair. I could deal with the iron. I’d done it before and could do it again. With deep breaths, I pushed away the twisting sensation in my stomach—it was a distant thing that didn’t matter.

“The perfect room for the Serpent’s little human.” Cyrus flashed me another sharp smile before sauntering over to one of the high windows.

Daylight haloed his golden hair and crown, gilding his skin. I couldn’t deny it was a breathtaking sight, but hadn’t I always known? Fae were at their most dangerous when they were most beautiful.

That earlier urge to run away hit me again. I could climb out the window, grab Vespera from the stables, and ride south over the border.

Except then I’d be in Albion. My uncle could easily follow me, and Robin might be dead, but that place was full of men like him.

How many women hadn’t managed to find that piece of broken glass? How many had been killed by their own Robins?

Once again, I couldn’t change my circumstances, only survive them. I only ever moved from one pile of shit to another. And Cyrus was just the latest.

Running away to Albion wasn’t the answer. It was just as dangerous as Elfhame. Neither kingdom kept its people safe.

What had Sura said? Peace had a cost, paid by those it didn’t serve.

Then again, violence had a cost, too, I realised as I watched Cyrus gazing out over the city he’d gained through it.

The problem was the people on the thrones—or the thrones themselves. Perhaps Sura was right—the system was broken here and in Albion.

As though he could feel my stare, the king turned. “That’s an intent look.” His eyelids lowered, smugness clear in his smirk as he lounged on the windowsill.

He thought I was enjoying the view of him .

I managed to avoid wrinkling my nose—barely. “Ever since I got here and learned about the palace’s unique construction, I’ve been wondering—what happens if you climb out a window?”

He made a soft sound of surprise. “Planning to escape my hospitality so soon?”

I laughed like I’d be foolish to do such a thing. “More wondering how safe I am when my guard waits at the door. Someone could climb in. Or, if they were particularly daring, leap out of a Dusk window and in through this one.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it. They aren’t structured lodestones. Your body would pass through an unstable channel between the different planes. It’s sturdy enough to admit fresh air and light, hence being able to see Luminis.” He gestured at the spires outside. “As you pointed out, making all the windows stable passages would be a security risk.”

“So, what would happen to your body?” The risk just might be worth it.

“You’d be forced through the gaps in the planes. Best-case scenario, you might get through unscathed, but that would be a miracle. Worst-case scenario, you would be disintegrated.”

I swallowed. “And middle scenario?”

“ Bits of you would be disintegrated. Chopped up by fragments of the veil between the planes, like meat through a grinder. No, more like something soft forced through mesh.” He said it impassively, despite how horrifying it sounded.

He glanced out the window, giving me a chance to wipe my sweaty palms against my gown and breathe past the sickly feeling in my stomach.

“Well,” he said at last and rose from his perch on the windowsill, “I have important, kingly things to do as I’m sure Adra is dying to remind me. But I trust you find these rooms much more fitting for such an esteemed guest.” He smiled, not quite benevolent, not quite smug. He gestured towards the window. “I thought you’d appreciate having a familiar view. I’ll leave you to enjoy it.”

He nodded, and I barely managed a bow before he swept out, my mind still caught on what he’d just said.

I stalked towards the window and it was as though the spires outside pierced my chest and not just the sky.

Because I knew this view from the palace.

Two sides, both identical, divided only by the thinnest barrier. You could be in the library in our version of the palace at the same time someone else is in Dawn’s library, and you’d never know the other person was there . The same space but on different planes.

These were Bastian’s rooms—the Dawn version of them, anyway. He could be standing right next to me in Dusk and neither of us would ever know.