Page 52

A rden jogged through the open gates, ignoring the ache in her legs from first the hours on Ora’s back and then the too-quick run up the innumerable steps to the palace complex.

She knew very well she was pushing it on time today, but if she ended up late for training with Storm, at least she’d be able to tell him she’d already done those particular drills.

Not that her cousin ever gave her a pass because she’d done something strenuous already.

Exhaustion threatened to crowd in, but she held it at bay. She didn’t have time to be tired. Not today, not in general. Didn’t matter that she had barely slept the last two nights, or that she felt as heavy as if she were wearing her dive suit. She had work to do, work no one else could do for her.

And just now, work she would do anything to avoid, so perhaps she ought to let her steps slow a bit.

The Guards watching the gates waved their greeting, which she returned, trying to tell herself that the knot in her stomach was hunger and not dread.

Skies, she wished she could hand off today’s crystals from Kiyana to some underling, along with the verbal message her contact had given her, rather than deliver them to Seidon herself.

Cowardly? Absolutely.

But that wouldn’t have stopped her from seizing the excuse to avoid him for another day. Not if Kiyana’s words weren’t still replaying over and over in her mind, demanding that she not just share them, she get a response to them.

For Jade, she could face Seidon. Which was both ironic and fitting. It was only because of Jade that she’d even become his friend—though also because of Jade that she could never be more.

She strode quickly into the busy thoroughfare where palace sprawled out into city, that being the shortest path from the gate to the palace proper.

People moved around as they always did, going about their everyday lives, knowing well that things were wrong in the world but not yet feeling their own rock.

They would. If they couldn’t rescue Jade soon, every person here would feel it. All these people would be shaken by the impact of war. Any one of them could be a casualty of it.

Arden touched a hand to the pocket of her leather vest with its threatening crystals, as if feeling their shape there would show her their messages.

“Mama! Mama, look! It’s her.”

The words alone, spoken in the excited voice of a small child, wouldn’t have been enough to make Arden pause—because no one ever referred to her as her .

But the mite of a girl—perhaps five years old—was also pointing a finger straight at Arden from a few steps in front of her, tugging on her mother’s arm and bouncing on her toes.

A new dread uncurled in her stomach. There was only one thing that made Arden worthy of note—Ora.

She tried to always approach civilization at an angle that would obscure the fact that the great hawk had a rider, but she knew that eventually someone would spot her.

That wasn’t to say they’d recognize her as Arden Bleu, but who rode Ora hardly mattered.

Once it was known that someone did, rumor would spread.

And just as they were finding ways to hear the rumors from the Sunken Cities, she had no doubt the flow of information was still going the other way too. Word would spread beneath the waves. The Black Tails would hear that there was a hawk rider.

Bad. Bad, bad, bad.

Even as Arden froze, trying to figure out how to misdirect this child and her mother and wondering when they’d spotted her, the little one had tugged her mother closer and now looked up at Arden with awe.

Arden forced a smile onto her lips. “Hello.”

“You’re the one, aren’t you?” The little girl blinked thick black lashes over sienna eyes. “The one who sits with the king each week at missa.”

“Oh.” Relief surged, leaving her nearly giddy in its wake. She supposed she in fact had two things that made her noteworthy. Smile softening on her lips, she nodded and crouched down to put her eyes level with the girl’s. “I am, yes. My father and the king have been good friends for many years.”

It was the simplest explanation for her presence in the royal pew.

But its simplicity didn’t make the girl’s eyes gleam and sparkle any less. She clasped tiny hands in front of her heart. “Are you going to marry him?” She said it with wonder in each word, and clear hope too.

Geysers. Was this the backlash from the white gown at the Blue Ball that they’d at first expected and then assumed must have been forgotten in the wake of the attack? Arden made herself laugh it off. “No, sweet one. I’m just a friend.”

“He holds your hand all the time,” the girl said, as if this was proof that Arden didn’t know what she was talking about. “And puts his hand on your back. That’s how Mama and Daddy are too. And they’re married.”

Arden glanced away from the girl, toward her mother who stood a step behind, a flush coloring her beautiful brown cheeks. Arden grinned at her. “And I’m sure your parents love each other very much. But the king is simply affectionate with his friends.”

Words she’d believed wholeheartedly two days ago. Words that now curled around her tongue in a way that felt like a lie.

“You took my breath away. And I never got it back.”

She might be absolutely certain that Seidon would forget her the moment he met Jade, but she hadn’t been able to convince herself that he’d acted impulsively when he kissed her, not given the words he’d spoken first to her and then to Enoch.

Which meant that, if he’d been thinking that way, it was quite possible that all those casual touches had meant a bit more than she’d been willing to grant.

A thought that both thrilled her and slayed her.

The child before her wasn’t to be deterred by any such logic anyway, it seemed. “Well, I think he should marry you,” she declared, reaching out to touch small fingertips to Arden’s braid. “You’re so pretty. I wish I had hair like yours.”

It was Seidon’s association that the girl thought pretty, really.

But she wasn’t going to be so rude as to say so.

Instead, she reached her own fingers out to touch the bouncy ends of the girl’s tight black curls.

“Really? Because I always wanted hair like yours. My aunt has beautiful curls like this, and I was always so jealous that I inherited my mother’s fair hair instead. ”

The girl giggled. “My name is Latitia.”

“A name as beautiful as your curls.” She tapped a finger lightly to the tip of Latitia’s nose, earning her another laugh. “My name is Arden.”

“I know your name, silly,” Latitia laughed on. “Everyone knows your name.”

Skies, that was a terrifying thought. And couldn’t possibly be true.

Obviously Latitia and her family attended the same missa that Seidon did, and they must live nearby too, to be on foot in this busy palace marketplace.

Quite likely one or the other or both of Latitia’s parents actually worked at the palace.

Of course they would know her name. But no one outside the palace had any reason to.

Latitia’s eyes lit up and, clearly excited by whatever idea she’d had, she took a step back toward her mother, tugged her down so she could whisper something in her ear, and gestured wildly at the shopping tote the woman carried.

Her mother smiled and nodded, and a moment later Latitia had fished something out of the bag and turned to Arden with bright eyes.

She held a small red flower out toward Arden, hope in her eyes. “For you.”

There was certainly no need to force her smile now. Rather than take it with her fingers, Arden moved her head closer to Latitia’s and turned it a bit, presenting her braid. “Will you put it in for me?”

Little fingers went to work forcing the delicate stem in Arden’s hair.

She’d check it herself the moment she walked away of course—she didn’t want it to fall out—but the smile wreathing the girl’s face as she stepped away again was worth the moments of bumbling.

“There,” Latitia pronounced. “So pretty!”

Arden couldn’t resist reaching up to touch it. “Thank you so much, Latitia.”

“You’re welcome.” She bounced back to her mother’s side and took her hand. “We’ll see you at missa on Firstday.”

“I’ll be sure to look for you.” Arden straightened, moving her smile and gaze from the girl to her mother.

The woman mouthed a thank-you and the two said their goodbyes and then moved off, Latitia skipping and bouncing with each step.

Arden breathed a laugh. Nothing to do with Ora. Nothing to do, even, with Seidon’s little prank at the ball. Just a little girl who liked to dream of weddings and romances.

Her smile faded as the two moved into a shop.

No adults had ever made the mistake of thinking Arden could be suitable for their king.

That, she knew very well, was why no rumors about them had sparked after the ball.

It wasn’t that all the news had been about the mer.

It was because no one who had reached the age of reason could look at her and see a future queen.

Enoch had the right of it—perhaps Seidon the man could love her. But Seidon the king could not.

A glance at her watch had her shaking all those musings off and dashing down the street at a run.

She would have only a few minutes to deliver the messages to Seidon before she was due with Storm, and while, yes, she had known time would be tight and had planned it accordingly, she did still need to tell him what Kiyana had said.

No way Storm would let her be late for training today though, given that she’d had yesterday off as he visited on the Banks.

The Guards at the palace proper not only didn’t slow her, they opened the doors for her the moment they spotted her loping toward them, letting her slip through with quick smiles of thanks. Finally, Alexei was the only one between her and Seidon.