Page 21

TYCHO

We’re stopped at the palace gates. I used to know most of the guards just by virtue of my position, but after what happened in Briarlock, it’s clear that roles and duties have been changed. Tonight, both guards stationed there are new and unfamiliar.

Neither of them look happy to see us.

It doesn’t help that we’ve been riding along muddy roads in pitch darkness for hours , and we passed midnight a good long while ago. The horses and tack are flecked with dried mud, and our armor is stained with Malin’s blood. We’re both still in the gold-and-red livery of Emberfall’s army, and we likely look battle-worn and road weary. If it was unusual for two soldiers to be traveling across the border together, it’s definitely unusual for them to be riding up to the palace gates in the wee hours of the night looking like . . . ?this.

The senior guard looks more annoyed than alarmed. From her uniform, I can tell she’s a captain. When I offer my name and title, she gives me a skeptical look before turning to Malin. “And who are you?” she says sarcastically in Syssalah. “The king himself?”

He inhales sharply, but I grab his arm before he can snap back. We’re not getting into a pissing match with a guard captain.

“Malin is a second lieutenant in the King’s Army in Emberfall,” I say. “He’s been assigned to my service by Prince Rhen.”

She looks between the two of us again, as if waiting for me to crack, but I stare back at her. Eventually, she says, “The King’s Courier was exiled to Emberfall, so you two will have to try another story.”

Exiled. Is that what they think?

Or is that what Grey said?

I draw a sharp breath myself. “I was in Emberfall, and Prince Rhen—”

“Look, I don’t care if you think you’re my mother.” She points toward the city. “Move along.”

Maybe we are going to have a pissing match.

“Wake General Solt,” I say. “He’ll verify my identity.”

“I’m not waking one of our generals to verify a soldier from Emberfall.”

“ I am not a soldier from Emberfall! ”

She looks me up and down, unfazed by my anger. “Then what are those? Stolen uniforms? You need more than that to sneak into the palace.”

“Then wake the king,” I snap. “If you insist on delaying me, we are prepared to go through you both.”

The other guard appears in the doorway when she hears my threat, and her hand is on her weapon. At my side, Malin goes tense and alert.

But the guard captain puts up a hand. “I’ll wake the general.” She points. “You can wait there.” She turns away, muttering something under her breath.

As we move our horses away from the gatehouse, Malin looks at me and drops his voice. “Did she just call you a stupid man?” he asks in Emberish.

I sigh. “Yes.”

“I didn’t follow all of that,” he says. “She thinks we’re lying?”

“She thinks we stole uniforms and we’re trying to sneak into the palace.”

“Through the main gates? How is that even sneaking ?”

He sounds so exasperated that it makes me laugh.

Malin snorts in response. “No wonder she thinks we’re stupid.”

I smile. Over our days of travel, I’ve come to really like him. I have my close friends in the palace, people I’ve known for so long that they’ve grown into a family of sorts, but none of them have ever really felt like peers . Even when I was in the army here in Syhl Shallow, I never had many friends. Some of that was due to my closeness to Grey, the new king who bore magic. Some of it was due to the other soldiers’ prejudice against Emberfall.

And some of it—likely a lot of it— was due to my past.

But maybe my growing closeness to Jax has allowed some of my instinctive barriers to fall. Maybe opening one door to trust has allowed others to unlatch, just a little.

Beneath me, Mercy paws at the cobblestones, and I murmur to her to settle. “I told the captain to wake one of the generals,” I tell Malin.

“Do you think they’ll make us wait long?” Malin says.

I glance at the guard house again. The remaining guard is glaring at us. They might have agreed to wake General Solt—but it’s clear they still don’t believe me.

“Yes,” I say.

And they do. Eventually, the remaining guard sits down, still glaring at us from inside the guard house, so we dismount from the horses and lean against one of the gate pillars. Mercy’s head hangs low, her muzzle pressed against my hip, blowing warm breaths against my thigh. I begin to wonder if the captain’s goal is to make us wait here until dawn, just to prove a point.

I really don’t want to fight my way through the palace gates.

I keep reminding myself that they’re just doing their job.

“I’m going to fall asleep standing up,” Malin says. “You might need to tell me a story.”

I smile. “But I’ve never hidden anyone’s uniform.”

“Come on.”

“I suppose I owe you.” I rack my brain for something silly, something clever , but no memories are suitable. I grimace. “I was too close to the king for anyone to trust me with pranks.”

Malin rolls his eyes. “Well, that sounds horrible. Anything, then. Your childhood?” he suggests. “How you found yourself here?”

Neither of those things would make a good story. My childhood certainly wasn’t fun. And I found myself here after Prince Rhen flayed my back open at fifteen, chained to a wall alongside Grey. We escaped to Syhl Shallow, and I swore fealty to the future king days later. A month after that, I was a soldier myself, swallowing my fears because I didn’t want to disappoint him.

Malin must watch some kind of emotion play across my face, because I’m silent, frozen against the pillar, and the teasing glint vanishes from his eyes. “Silver hell, Tycho. As soon as I earn a day of leave, we’re finding a tavern, and I’m going to buy you a drink .”

That makes me laugh, a little. I’m somewhat abashed—but rather touched, too. “All right.”

He makes a disgusted sound and pushes upright, running a hand across the back of his neck. “Or maybe we should find one right now. How bad would it look if I laid out my bedroll right here?”

But finally, we hear hoofbeats from somewhere beyond the gates. “Wait,” I say. “Someone is coming.”

I truly hope it’s more than just the guard captain who forced us to wait here, because I really might draw blades.

I peer between the bars of the gates to see if I can identify who’s riding through the shadowed early morning darkness. More than one horse, for sure. It sounds like a lot—and when I finally see movement, it looks like a lot.

“She did wake the general,” I say to Malin, and I’m surprised.

“He’ll recognize you?”

“Yes, for certain.” Then I notice who else is riding alongside General Solt, and my heart kicks hard against my ribs. A small part of me has been dreading this moment since the day we rode out of Ironrose, but I’m surprised to find that another part is . . . ?hopeful. Maybe even eager.

It reminds me of when I was younger, when I would do anything to prove myself.

Right now, I resent it.

Either way, I’m instantly wide awake. I cluck to my tired horse and draw up my reins. “Look sharp, Lieutenant. Mount up.”

Malin hears the change in my voice and obeys immediately. “Who else is with them?”

“The king.”

Grey is always stoic, often unreadable, and being woken at this hour doesn’t change that. When he and General Solt reach the gates, the guard scrambles down from the gatehouse to open them this time. They’re flanked by half a dozen members of the Royal Guard, and followed by a dozen soldiers. I’m surprised at the show of force. It’s quite the imposing contingent. Malin and I wait at attention outside the gates while the guards roll them out of the way.

It leaves us facing the king across a span of twenty feet, and for a flicker of time, that familiar tension crackles between us. My chest tightens like we’re on opposing sides of a battlefield, and a cool wind blows through the gates, lifting Mercy’s mane and tugging at my hair.

Magic whispers on the breeze between us, brushing against my senses, and for the first time, I recognize it. Nakiis.

The king rides forward, but he stops at the edge of the gates. Those guards press in close, the soldiers following.

If Grey and I were alone, I’d ignore our conflict and tell him everything that’s happened since we parted ways in Briarlock. Duty has always trumped emotion for us both.

But we’re not alone. The moment feels too charged.

Even Malin is aware of it. I can sense his vigilance, his readiness .

Grey’s eyes flick over us, and I watch him take in the uniform I’m wearing, the soldier at my side, and the state of our armor. Mud and blood speckle everything, and I probably still have dirt in my hair.

“Tycho,” he says, and his tone carries an edge. Everyone else might hear it as a thread of anger, but I know him too well. He’s wary .

That drives a spike into my heart. I wonder what Grey expected to find that made him bring a contingent of guards.

Whatever it is, I don’t like it. That note in his voice seems to emphasize the fractured trust between us.

All I can offer is an attempt to undo it. Grey normally isn’t one for extreme formality, but I swing down from Mercy, place a hand over my heart, and drop to one knee. “Your Majesty. Prince Rhen ordered me to return. I have urgent news to report.”

There’s absolute silence for a moment. My eyes are down, so I hear more than see the king climb down from his horse.

“Tycho,” he says, and his voice is a little lower, a little quieter. “Get up.”

I rise to standing, and he stops right in front of me. His expression is fierce, his eyes searching mine. There’s so much tension in the air that I half expect him to order me to get back on my horse and go back where I came from.

But he just touches a hand to my shoulder. His voice is quiet. “Are you all right?”

I’m struck by his tone, or maybe the motion. Of anything, I didn’t expect concern. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

His eyes shift to the state of my armor before returning to mine. “Truly?”

I nod quickly. “Truly.”

His hand drops away. “Rhen? Harper?”

I nod again. “They’re well.”

Another breeze blows through the gates, another whisper of Nakiis’s magic in the air. Grey’s eyes widen the slightest bit, and I know he feels it this time. He takes a step back, his eyes flicking to the star-speckled sky.

“But something has happened,” he says. “Or you wouldn’t be here.” Any softness has vanished from his voice.

“I have a written detail from Prince Rhen,” I say. “Lieutenant Malin and I can give you a full report as well.” I pause, thinking of everything that’s transpired. I don’t even know if we can trust the guards who followed the king onto this field. “I recommend that any accounting should be done privately.”

He hears the weight in my tone, and his eyes snap back to mine. “We’ll return to the palace. I’ll have the guards take your horses.” He glances at Malin. “Lieutenant, you will follow.”

Malin is on the ground in a heartbeat. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Grey glances at the sky again, but the magic in the air has fluttered away to nothing. He looks back at me. “Whatever you mean to tell me—should I dismiss these guards and soldiers, or should I be doubling the protection around the palace?”

He sounds a bit cynical, as if he might not be fully serious.

But I think of Nakiis’s warnings. “The latter.”