Page 1 of In The Dark

1

What if Inever come back?

What if I lock this door and disappear?

The knob warms beneath my fingers in the dead of summer, locking runes flickering up the frame in a glow of sigils. I stand just outside my chamber door with an impossible decision and a grind to my teeth.

Go out tonight, or disappear? Would the king even care?

Either way I’ll be searching for them again—my parents. The ones I’m not supposed to care about, but I do. No one knows, and if the king found out, I doubt I’d ever leave the castle again.

And losing my freedom by death is the last thing I need.

I force my shoulders to relax despite the questions. Despite the severed heads flashing across my vision from my most recent mission. I keep telling myself: just one more, and I’ll be free.

Free to search for the ones who abandoned me so long ago. Would I actually be free? Probably not.

Yet I know this feeling will pass, as it always does. It’s just the mission—nothing more than another disappointment. I’m sure I’ll feel better after I go out tonight.

I let out a defeated sigh as my boots smack against the stone steps of my stairwell, strands of my hair fluttering from the warm air coming in from the arched entryway.

If it weren’t for the back-to-back missions, I probably would have found an escape sooner than I have, but the king has kept us busy running his errands. That’s what I call them—errands—because that’s what it feels like. Like I’m taking care of something for him he’d rather not do himself.

The bloody parts. The cruel, gruesome killings he likes so much. Donning one of the many metaphorical masks he’s trained us to develop in the Veiled Brotherhood—masks of personality and disguise. Something we’re all good at.

Masking my expressions is like second nature at this point—hiding my emotions from everyone on the outside. Like it’s always been a part of who I’m meant to be.

Except for when I’m around Ezra.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Ezra throws me a teasing scowl the moment my boots touch the gravel.

“What do you mean?” I glance down, pinching my brows: loose black pants and a matching tunic draped off my shoulders.

“I figured you would have worn something more… accessible.” He chuckles like he can’t believe what I chose to wear. I scoff and roll my eyes, tossing my braid back over my shoulder.

We’re on our way to the Painted Bird, the finest brothel in Alvonia. A brothel with strict rules that, if broken, get you thrown out by your hair. It’s typically where I go after completing a grueling mission, and the anticipation of going ate at me all day. Though their rules can be quite annoying at times, I love the place so much, I don’t dare break one.

Tonight is the only night Ezra and I can escape after weeks of nonstop missions. I just need a damn breather, but Ezra’s incessant pestering isn’t going to help me relax.

“What would you like for me to wear?” I ask.

“You’re wearing pants. You look like one of the males,” he mutters, his hazel eyes throwing me a sideways glance as we exit the stone rise of the castle.

“Were you expecting me to wear one of the king’s ball gowns when all I’d do is get it dirty? You’re wearing pants. What’s the difference?” I grumble.

His pants are paired with a fitted tunic that sits snug around his chest, showing off years’ worth of our training in the brotherhood, though he’s all rough edges and hard lines.

Hard lines that I believe have made him an unshakeable tool for King Elion to use—forged by combat and killing. But I’m not glaring at a honed weapon. I’m glaring at my best friend.

He snorts, walking past me with a quick glance over his shoulder. “I didn’t say that. Just something, you know, less masculine.”

I quicken my pace. “This is not masculine. Besides, pantsareeasily accessible. All they would have to do is?—”

“Oh, come on, Isa. You look like you might fight someone for no reason. I’ll honestly be shocked if they let you in with all the weapons you’re wearing,” he interrupts, and I fall into step beside him with another glare.

“It wouldn’t be fornoreason—there’s always a reason.” I shrug, a small grin tugging at my lips. “I’m not headed to the brothel for one of the males anyway, so I think I’m fine. Did you bring your mask to get in?”

Our boots crunch against the gravel, the only sound at this hour, and though it’s only mid-evening, most are inside their homes by now. Castle Alvonia sits just outside the city, surrounded by a field of lush grass with oak trees lining the gravel roads.