Page 23 of House of Dusk

But why? Sinoe took most of her meals in her own chambers, which were in the north wing, or in the solar, with a small company of ladies of the court.

There was a grander feasting hall, of course, its walls painted with scenes of a royal hunt, and couches for a hundred guests.

But that was in the western wing. No doubt Hierax had a private dining chamber, but his suite was in the eastern wing.

She had to ask. Had to prepare herself. This could be an opportunity. “Princess, where are we going?”

Sinoe halted so abruptly Yeneris had to catch herself to keep from smacking into the woman. Tami hissed at her from the princess’s shoulder, snapping her hooked beak until Yeneris drew back, tucking her hands behind her. “It would be helpful to know. So I can ensure your safety.”

A man from the palace guard had given Yeneris a tour before she began her service.

Important to know the exits, the routes she might need to take to get Sinoe to safety, in the case of any threat.

But the tour had not included the south wing.

No one goes there now, the guard told her. The king keeps it sealed.

It was only from the gossip of servants that Yeneris learned it was where Hierax had secured the reliquary. She supposed it made sense, if the man believed that the kore was his fated bride.

“We’ll be dining in my—in the queen’s salon.” Sinoe bit the inside of her cheek. “You don’t have to come. You can wait outside. Tami can stay with you. It might be for the best.”

Yeneris arched a dubious brow at the ailouron, just as the bird-beast gave a scornful shriek. Apparently neither of them liked that plan.

“I’ll be safe,” said Sinoe. “These are the most secure rooms of the palace.”

Yeneris had noticed. She’d counted eight guards so far, mostly in pairs, several in stationary positions, others patrolling. All well-armed, in spite of their tasseled ceremonial armor and gilded helms.

“But you don’t feel safe,” said Yeneris. She couldn’t risk being left behind now, even if the comment verged on inappropriate. “I’m not leaving.”

Sinoe gave her a wan smile. “You may regret that.” Then she led the way onward, to a heavy wooden door inlaid with a geometric pattern of black and white tile, guarded by two more soldiers.

The princess took a bracing breath. “Be good,” she whispered, presumably to Tami, as the guards opened the door for her.

Yeneris followed, her skin humming, nerves on fire.

The reliquary was here, somewhere. Little chance of recovering it right now, but she might be able to make plans for a future attempt. She just needed to figure out where Hierax had it hidden.

The room was nearly a perfect, windowless cube, as tall as it was broad, the walls painted with false columns, so it seemed as if they were entering a marble pavilion looking out over a starlit meadow.

The dozens of tiny oil lamps scattered about the room added to this effect, providing a shimmering quivery light that made it hard for Yeneris’s eyes to focus.

She blinked, thinking that was the reason she saw double. Two people, seated at the head of that long, imposing table, rather than the one she had expected.

But it wasn’t a trick of her eyes. There was Hierax, with his overlarge eyes and gold-ringed fingers and heavy lips pursed in expectation.

And beside him, a veiled figure, her brow clasped by a circlet of beaten gold leaves and crimson gems. Bony wrists jutted from the sleeves of her gown, stiff with gilt embroidery and precious stones.

A sash clasped her impossibly narrow waist.

“Hello, Father.” Sinoe dipped her head, her voice tight. Tami gave a tiny hiss.

Hierax’s brow furrowed. “That beast should be in its cage.”

For a moment she thought Sinoe might protest. But she only swallowed, nodding. She turned to Yeneris, her face strained and pale. “Take her, please.”

Impossible to argue, not here, in front of the king. Even Tami seemed to sense the weight of Hierax’s displeasure, and consented to be coaxed from Sinoe’s shoulder onto Yeneris’s arm. Her talons pricked painfully. She gave a low, mournful keen as the princess turned away.

Hierax cleared his throat significantly as Sinoe moved to take her seat at the table. “You haven’t greeted your mother, Sinoe.”

Mother? Yeneris gaped, trying to fathom the words. Queen Kizare was gone, exiled back to her people in Scarthia.

There was a beat of silence. Then Sinoe dipped another bow, this time to the veiled woman. “Hello, Mother.”

There was no response, not even the slightest stir of the gauzy linen veil. Hierax gave a rumble of approval, and Sinoe finally took her seat. She was pale, except for two spots of brightness high in her cheeks.

“There,” said Hierax, leaning back, more relaxed now, almost jovial. “See how happy it makes her, to have you here with us?”

A pit had opened inside Yeneris, and all her sensible thoughts were spinning into it, sucked down by a realization that was too horrible for her to accept.

She stared at the veiled woman. Unmoving.

Skeletally thin. She could just barely make out a shadowy face through the veil: the pale, sharply cut features, the empty dark eyes, the hint of a leering grimace.

It took all Yeneris’s control to hold herself back behind Sinoe’s chair.

A wild laugh snagged in her throat. So much for her fears that she might not discover where the reliquary was hidden.

She had found it. Or rather, she had found the sacred bones, the last mortal remains of the revered kore of Bassara.

Here they were, right in front of her.

It wasn’t enough that Hierax had stolen the bones. That he’d slaughtered an entire city to claim them. But to pervert them? To dress the kore like a child’s doll, propped at his dinner table?

She bit her tongue, feeling Sinoe’s eyes. Had she made a sound? Thankfully Tami’s bulk hid her face somewhat. She struggled to regain her composure. Listen, watch, learn. Later, she could be horrified.

And so she catalogued all that was before her. The table, set with a dozen silver platters. Dishes of roasted quail and cheese-filled pastries. Rabbit stewed with prune. Jeweled heaps of pomegranate and fig and ripe apricots.

Hierax made a show of slicing the choicest cuts and setting them on the plate before the kore. “Only the best for you, my love.”

Sinoe took a sizable sip of her wine, then set the cup down with a clink that was just slightly too loud. “Did you hunt the rabbit yourself, Father?” Her voice was a cracked jug trying desperately not to spill.

And there was nothing Yeneris could do to help. You can do your job, she chided herself . The real one.

The king had accepted Sinoe’s conversational gambit, and was now expounding on different techniques for hunting rabbit. Yeneris let the words fade to a hum as she absorbed the layout of the room, fixing the details in her mind.

She doubted that this was where the kore was kept normally. The way Hierax had spoken, the way he acted even now, told her this was no farce. He truly believed that the kore was his beloved, his bride. His queen.

Queens did not sleep in dining rooms.

There were two other doors, aside from the one by which she and Sinoe had entered. One of them must lead to the queen’s bedchamber. Was that where the kore lay during the night? Her bones tucked into a silken sleeping gown, a scarf tied round her poor bare skull?

Did the king—

Raised voices interrupted her thoughts, which was probably all for the best.

“The ambassador meant no insult, Father,” Sinoe was saying.

“What did she mean, then?” The king tore at a leg of quail, fingers digging into the oily flesh.

Sinoe gave one of her light, tinkling laughs. “Tami’s an ailouron, not a marriage contract. You should be happy about it, Father. It shows how greatly the Scarthians esteem us.”

“It shows how shamelessly they try to manipulate you,” scoffed Hierax. “That woman thinks she can win you over with amber baubles and ill-bred pets.”

“Tami isn’t ill-bred,” protested Sinoe, her expression hardening. For the first time, Yeneris saw the resemblance between father and daughter, as they glowered at one another. “The gift of an ailouron is a great honor. A sign of respect for me, as Kizare’s daughter.”

Crack!

The king’s fist struck the table so hard it made the wine slosh from Sinoe’s goblet. “Enough. I will not have you insult my true queen. You will return that beast, or we’ll be feasting on ailouron flesh next time we dine together. Now. Apologize.”

Sinoe’s lips trembled. Yeneris winced as Tami’s talons clutched at her, and she could hear the low growl beginning to boil in the creature’s chest. I know. I want to tear his throat out too. But that would only make things worse.

Gingerly, she lifted a hand to stroke the ailouron, the way she’d seen Sinoe soothe Tami earlier. Surprisingly—but gratifyingly—Tami did not snap her fingers off. The feathers around her neck calmed somewhat, though she continued to rumble unhappily.

“I’m sorry, Father,” said Sinoe at last, though there was little repentance in her tone.

Hierax stared back, still thunderous. “I’m not the one you insulted.”

Sinoe’s shoulders hunched. She looked ill. But she turned toward the silent, veiled figure. Her voice was almost a whisper, hoarse with unhappiness. “I’m sorry. Mother.”

They finished the meal in silence.