Page 43 of House of Dusk

The faintest of dents dove between Opotysi’s brows. Yeneris couldn’t read her expression, but the beat of silence spoke loud enough. “You are a daughter of the steppes,” she said, finally. “Surely it is only fitting that you have an ailouron as your companion.”

Yeneris saw Sinoe’s shoulder hunch slightly.

As if she was preparing herself for a blow.

And again, Yeneris fought the urge to spring forward.

To shield Sinoe from this. “No. I am a daughter of Helisson. My father is the Ember King. And my true mother—” there was no hesitation, only the faintest flex of Sinoe’s fingers as she spoke—“is his Faithful Maiden, who has returned to us, and praise the Fates, will once more stand at his side.”

A murmur rippled through the various nobles who had gathered. Yeneris saw cautious smiles and nods from those in Helissoni garb, but the Scarthians were less pleased. Some frowned. Others shook their heads.

The only person who seemed completely satisfied by Sinoe’s proclamation was Hierax.

That was when Yeneris understood the point of all this spectacle.

The truth of it sliced her, sudden and unexpected, like the slip of a paring knife.

And for a long moment she could only stare at the blood seeping from the wound.

This was Sinoe’s plan to convince her father to allow them to visit the kore’s bones alone.

The princess had publicly rejected her mother, had cast off her beloved ailouron, all to help Yeneris rescue the kore. All to win King Hierax’s approval.

And it had worked. Hierax gave Opotysi a triumphant look. “Indeed. As my daughter says, Ambassador.”

“Very well,” said Opotysi, her voice clipped, her expression cool. “I’ll make sure your message is delivered.” She gave another nod, then spun away. She paused briefly to speak with Hura, before heading off toward the Scarthian tents.

Hierax reached for Sinoe, one heavy hand wrapping her arm. “Come, General Fortus is about to fly his hawk.”

Sinoe glanced back as the king swept her away, her eyes hunting, landing on Yeneris. “See to the transfer, Yen. She trusts you.”

And then she was gone, leaving Yeneris to grapple with the aftermath. With the hard knot tied into her chest. This was the mission, she reminded herself. And why shouldn’t Sinoe make sacrifices? Yeneris surely had.

“Yen, is it?” Hura had lingered. He was watching her now, a little too curiously for her comfort.

“Yeneris,” she answered, painfully aware of her own voice, and how it might betray her.

Hura might not think anything of it, of course.

There were thousands of folk with Bassaran heritage scattered across the lands of the Middle Sea.

She didn’t think he would suspect her mission.

More likely he’d simply think her desperate, to take service in the household of the man who had destroyed their city.

Or maybe he didn’t even care. Urabas had remained neutral during the war.

Choosing to save themselves, rather than risk being attacked.

“Yeneris,” he repeated, speaking her name as she had, in the softer Helissoni way.

The name wasn’t unusual. The languages—like the people—of the Middle Sea had much in common. They had all been part of the old empire, after all. Before the cataclysm. Stop fluttering, she told herself. Stop acting like you have something to hide.

“May the kos bless you.” Hura gave the greeting casually, as if it meant nothing. And maybe it was true. He was half Bassaran, so no strangeness that he might offer her a Bassaran greeting.

She nodded in return, then turned and began marching toward the cart. The sooner this was over, the better. Tami was keening again, a plaintive wail that scratched her nerves raw.

This was all for her. No, that was presumptuous.

It was for the kore. Sinoe needed to win her father’s trust, to gain access to the south wing.

Still, Yeneris wished there were an easier way.

One that didn’t require Sinoe to give up Tami.

The princess hid her feelings well, but Yeneris knew she must have sliced out her own heart to make that speech.

To know that her mother—her true mother—might think it was real.

That Sinoe had so thoroughly rejected her.

She halted beside the cart. The two servants stepped back at her approach. Bracing herself, Yeneris tugged aside the cloth. Tami gave a bright chitter, uncoiling from a tight ball at the bottom of the cage and flinging herself at the bars closest to Yeneris with a piteous wail.

“Shhh,” she hushed the creature. “It’s going to be all right. You’re going to go home now.”

But Tami continued to wail until Yeneris opened the cage door. With a creel of triumph, the ailouron leapt onto her shoulder, nestling her beak beneath Yeneris’s ear. She began to purr.

“She likes you,” said Hura.

Yeneris shrugged. “I’m familiar.”

The man arched a brow. “Ailourons aren’t particularly friendly with anyone other than their chosen person. Or people their chosen person cares about. Their hearthkin.”

Another Bassaran word. Hearthkin and heartkin.

The two kinds of family, her mother had taught her.

Those you were born to, and those you chose for yourself.

A foolish heat spread up her cheeks. Yeneris reached for Tami, unwinding the ailouron’s claws from her hair, ignoring her squawk of protest. She held the creature out to Hura.

“Then she’ll be very happy with you. Princess Sinoe clearly thinks very highly of you, Lord Hura. ”

Hura took Tami, who in fact did submit easily to his touch, and had soon nestled herself onto his shoulder. Yeneris told herself sternly that it was ridiculous to feel jealous.

“I should go.” She started to stalk away.

“A moment, Yeneris.”

She halted. Not because of his raised hand, or the entreaty in his brown eyes.

It was her name. Even on Sinoe’s lips, her own name still sounded strange to her, just slightly dissonant.

But this time Hura spoke it properly, the way her mother had said it.

The way Mikat said it. It must be deliberate.

Calm , she told herself. Give nothing away .

It could be simply a slip. He was half Bassaran, after all.

“What is it, my lord?”

“I have something for Sinoe,” he said. “Another gift. One that I hope she will keep. One to give her hope.”

Yeneris hesitated. Unease crawled over her skin. Hura had positioned himself so that his back was to the crowd. His short cape hid his arms as he drew something from his brightly patterned tunic. “Will you see that it reaches her safely?”

“What is it?”

“A trinket from Lady Kizare. She wishes her daughter—” He spoke the word very deliberately—“might know that she has not forgotten her. That she thinks of her. That she prays every day to the four winds that they be reunited.”

The unease became something sharper. Yeneris stared at the small packet in Hura’s outstretched hand. What would Sinoe want her to do? Taking it endangered Sinoe. And Hura too, for that matter.

And it endangered the plan. Sinoe needed her father’s trust. She had just sliced out her own heart for the chance to visit the kore alone.

She started to step back. Hura’s gaze narrowed. “Please, take it. You strike me as a woman who knows how to keep secrets. And if you help me, I can help you someday. Perhaps you understand the desire to return someone beloved to their home?”

Ice spiked her chest, but Yeneris kept her expression impassive.

He could simply be fishing, tossing chum into the water to see if she’d bite.

She would not bite, even as her mind spun through possibilities.

If she denied him, did he have the power to reveal her?

Hierax clearly didn’t trust the Scarthians.

But Hura could seed doubt. Whisper in the right ear, and raise enough concerns that she might be fired from her post.

If she accepted, she would need to thread a very narrow course.

Clearly Hura wanted to whisk Sinoe out of the palace, off to Scarthia and her mother.

If not for her own mission, Yeneris would want that too.

To get Sinoe as far away from her father and this cage he kept her in.

To give her space to spread her wings and fly. What a sight that would be.

But Yeneris needed Sinoe, too. The princess could take her to the kore. Help her ensure that the reliquary returned home, that whatever desecration Lacheron planned would not come to pass.

Still, if she could balance things just right, maybe she could have both. Rescue both Sinoe and the kore.

Carefully, Yeneris turned and went to collect the small leather bag that hung beside Tami’s cage. Returning, she held it out to Hura. “Here,” she said. “Tami’s favorite treats. The princess would want her to have them.”

As Hura took the parcel, he pressed his own into her palm. She tucked it away in a smooth movement, slipping it into her sleeve like one of her hidden daggers.

“Thank you,” said Hura. Turning, he ambled off. Tami craned her neck, bright golden eyes fixing on Yeneris. She began to keen again, riffling her wings, but Hura distracted her with one of the bits of dried meat until she quieted. And then he was gone, and Yeneris was truly alone.