by Elise Kova
The other compartment held a key, the outline of which was visible in the dust when she removed it. Vi flipped it over in search of markings that could offer a clue as to what it might unlock. The skeleton key was fairly large, but otherwise plain. The only embellishment was the Solaris seal stamped at the end.
Unhelpful.
Still, Vi pocketed the key and resumed her search. The key clearly hadn’t been moved in some time, judging from the outline it left behind in the dust. It must unlock something important for him to hide it. She just hoped that “it” was more than a chest filled with scandalous tomes of daring women.
As she’d expected, the prince’s royal apartment was filled with secret nooks in almost every room. Vi scoured the place from top to bottom, not stopping until she could be confident she’d explored every one. She found ten in total, including one servants’ entry and passage that was void of any possible hiding spots.
The crown wasn’t in any of these locations. Nor was anything that the key could unlock.
She was just placing the last of the fabric over the furniture when the ring around her finger grew warm. A glyph sizzled in her mind, begging for release. “Narro hath,” Vi murmured.
“Miss me?” Deneya’s voice echoed to her from across the connection.
“Terribly.”
“Then your agony will soon be over.”
“How far are you?”
“I’m just about to start up the switchbacks now.”
“Meet me in the Imperial Library.” Vi paused, remembering what day and age she was in, now. Vhalla was present in the castle. Her chest tightened in a way that begged avoidance at all costs. “On second thought, the servant’s entrance, the one not far from the water gardens.”
“See you soon.”
Vi released the glyph and did one last sweep of Baldair’s room. Wherever the prince had hidden the crown, it wasn’t here. Vi pursed her lips and left, heading down through the castle to meet Deneya.
The servant’s entrance was busy at all times of day. Boards lined the main entry with schedules and memos. Someone was always coming or going, and no one paid Vi a second glance in her palace robes.
She perched herself on a bench just outside, watching the night fall as she waited. Soon enough, the silhouette of a woman cut against the watercolor sky as Deneya crested the hill.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes.” Vi stood.
“I’m marvelous, I know.” Deneya smiled down at her. “It’s good to see you, too.”
“Let’s find a place to board the horse. I doubt we’ll get to use the palace stables again.”
“Unfortunately.” Deneya dismounted.
“I think I know a place.”
“Lead the way.” Deneya walked alongside Vi as she headed for an inn with a long row of stables that were usually unoccupied. “Any issues up here?”
“No, your end?”
“None.”
Vi glanced at the pack the woman had over her shoulder, then to the saddlebags. “You have it?”
“Of course.” Deneya patted her backpack and Vi could imagine the shimmering crown inside. “You find the real deal yet?”
“No, but we only just got here a few days before you.”
“I know, that’s why I thought you would’ve certainly found it by now.” Deneya grinned.
“We need your help, clearly.”
“Yes, you’d be lost without me,” she proclaimed loftily.
“I did miss you.” Vi nudged her shoulder against her friend’s.
She snorted. “I doubt it. You’ve had a few days with Taavin all to yourself and judging from the glow around you, the alone time did you well.”
Vi laughed and didn’t even bother with a denial. “Yes, but now that you’re back, it’s nothing but work again. We must find the crown soon.”
“What’s the rush?”
“I’m not sure… a feeling?” Vi looked over her shoulder, feeling as if someone was following her. No one was there. The memory of the Tower—of Victor watching her movements without her realizing—was an unexpected companion in the castle. “I know Victor is usually the one to find it. And knowing what I know of him, once he finds it, he won’t let it go.”
“So we have to beat him to it,” Deneya surmised. The statement brought Vi’s thoughts to Baldair’s empty room.
“Yes. But my fear is that we’re already too late.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Vi, Taavin, and Deneya broke the palace into segments in order to search for the crown.
Vi continued to search the royal quarters. Baldair might not have hidden it in his chambers, but he’d have access to every room in the Imperial wing of the palace. There were plenty more secret locations that were all potential hiding spots, and lots of locks for her to try the key on.
Deneya began looking through ledgers used by the palace guard. Vi supposed it was possible for Baldair to have entrusted the relic to his loyal soldiers. Though Deneya returned empty-handed day after day, which slowly squashed that theory.
Taavin remained assigned to the Tower of Sorcerers. He reported on overheard rumors, mostly from students; there were more tales of Vhalla’s doings than anything relating to the crown. Whispers flew about how she had fallen from a tower rooftop and flown, how the crown prince was her personal tutor, and how Minister Victor wanted nothing more than to see her enrolled as the Tower’s newest student.
Time whittled away Vi’s patience. The crown began to haunt her dreams. Night after night, she could imagine herself touching it, feeling the magic of Yargen seep into her. Day after day, she searched for that sensation, imagining feeling it on the briefest shift in the air.
Just when she was about to turn the whole castle upside down, fate and stones and rivers be damned, the military returned to the capital.
Vi, Taavin, and Deneya watched from the upper ramparts as palace staff and citizenry alike funneled into the Sunlit Stage, waiting for the military party to march up the mountain and make its grand arrival.
“They look so small and insignificant,” Vi murmured.
“From this high up, everything looks small.” Deneya leaned against the stone, looking down.
Vi wondered what the world looked like to the gods. Did they stand on walls higher than this? Walls that kept mortals from their divine domains? She could imagine Yargen staring down, and every mortal in the world being little more than grains of sand to be swept around by her hand.
“Here they come.” Taavin pointed to the military party as it arrived. Cheers erupted for the Emperor and Baldair as they entered, a deafening roar that rolled across the whole mountainside.
“They certainly love him, don’t they?”
“They do.” Vi stared down at the speck that was Baldair. Somewhere in his mess of golden hair was the knowledge of what he’d done with the crystal crown.
“I feel bad for Aldrik… to be so hated when your brother is so loved,” Deneya mused.
“His hardships prepare him for what’s to come.”
“That’s grim.”
Vi shrugged in reply.
“Now that the prince is back, does the plan change?” Taavin asked.
“We’ll see.” Vi stepped away from the stone railing and headed back inside the palace. “I’m going to see if I can steal a moment with Baldair.”
“Why does she get all the fun?” Deneya asked Taavin.
“Because this is her destiny.”
Vi came to a sudden stop. How she truly hated that word.
“What is it?” Deneya asked.
“I’m going to go this way. I’ll meet you both back at our rooms later.”
“Good luck.” Taavin leaned forward, planting a warm kiss on her cheek before he followed Deneya in the opposite direction, down to their hideaway in the bowels of the palace.
Vi moved quickly through the servants’ passages. She was one of many hustling to get from one place to the next. The return of half the royal family, even when expected, had
turned the castle on its head.
Servants flowed in and out of the Imperial wing and Vi fell into step with them. By now, the guards had seen her come and go so many times that they hardly paid her any attention. Most of the people went up to the royal chambers at the top of the golden staircase. It was the one place Vi had yet to look because it was rarely unattended.
A war raged within her as she debated if she had time to head up there now. In the chaos, she might be able to poke around unnoticed. Ultimately, Vi went to the right for Baldair’s rooms. She doubted he would’ve hid the crown up in his parents’ chambers, unless he’d given it to his father. But if Tiberus Solaris had a crystal weapon, the whole world would know it.
However, on returning from a long trip, Baldair might immediately want to check the location of his prize. If she was lucky, he’d lead her right to it.
The servants were bustling in and out of the young prince’s room, carrying trays of food and drink. Vi stepped off to the side, heading for the bedroom.
“Just where are you going?” a man asked.
“I’m checking the linens,” Vi said.
“I was just in there, the bed is made.”
“Did you check the towels?” The man nodded. “Extra sheets?”
“Why would the prince want extra sheets in his room?”
“Do you really need to ask that? This is Baldair we’re talking about.”
“Oh, Mother above.” He muttered something else under his breath.
“Come on, I need your hands.” A woman tugged on the servant’s arm, successfully pulling him away from Vi.
As he left, Vi could hear him murmuring, “I haven’t seen her around before…”
She disappeared into the bedroom, which was thankfully empty. Vi headed right back for the fireplace and pulled on the secret lever she’d found before. The bookcase opened with a soft click as the mechanism disengaged. Vi hurried over and stepped inside, closing it behind her. She listened through the wood as the commotion continued in the common area. Servants bustled about in the bedroom.
Then, silence.
Vi counted to fifty, then opened the hidden door slowly. On light feet, she stepped out and closed the shelf behind her. She’d learned every creaky board in this room from her investigations, and Vi made her way soundlessly into the dressing room, then into the bathroom. There wasn’t another soul to witness her collecting towels into her arms.
She poised herself in front of the bathroom door that connected to the main room. The bundle of linens was shoved under one arm. Her other hand was on the doorknob.
Closing her eyes, Vi took a deep breath. Who would she be? Who did she need to be in this moment?
“Yargen, guide me,” she whispered. It wasn’t quite a prayer. More like… asking a friend for a favor.
The door to the main room opened, heralding male laughter, and Vi sprang into action. She pushed open the bathroom door at the same time as Baldair and two other young men entered through the main door. Her eyes met his.
“My prince!” Vi said, startled. She juggled the towels, allowing them to scatter to the floor. Baldair’s laughter stopped and he regarded her with a confused and somewhat amused expression. Vi dropped to the floor, hastily gathering and folding the towels. “I’m so sorry. I was supposed to be gone, I know. But I realized the towels had not been properly refreshed for your arrival and I was terribly worried by the thought of you putting a musty towel to your face.”
The words raced from her with an anxiousness Vi hadn’t felt in some time. She couldn’t place the source of the feeling. Her mind was a dark lake, smooth and glassy. Perhaps Yargen had heard her request and this was exactly what the prince needed to see and hear: a panicked young woman, unassuming, innocent, and ready to flatter him.
Two armor-clad feet appeared in her vision, followed by knees. Vi brought her gaze up to the prince who had knelt across from her, making a clumsy attempt at folding a towel.
“Forgive me, your highness,” she murmured. “Not only have I ruined your return… but you are now doing a servant’s work.”
“There’s nothing to forgive.” He handed her the towel with a roguish smile. “Every time I return home, I hope a lovely woman is here to greet me. Really, I should be thanking you.”
“You’re truly incorrigible,” a man Vi recognized as Craig muttered as he shut the door.
“I think what the prince is trying to say… is that you have nothing to worry about.” The other man was at Vi’s left, and passed her a much more carefully folded towel.
She paused, taken aback by the familiar face.
I know these eyes.
Daniel. Vi had seen him in the North, but only ever at a distance. This was the first time she’d been close enough to him to see Jayme in his features.
Her stomach twisted.
“Thank you,” Vi murmured, collecting herself and the towel from Daniel’s hands. She was here on a mission. Vi cleared her throat. “My prince, I understand if you need to report me to my superiors for not having everything prepared for your arrival.”
“You don’t really think I’m going to do that, do you?” He chuckled and stood.
Vi finished the last of her folds, standing as well. “I don’t want to assume the will of a royal.”
“I’m not my brother.” Baldair shrugged. “Though, perhaps you could do me a favor?”
“Anything!”
“Help me out of this armor?” He knocked his breastplate.
“Really, Baldair? You’re not here more than an hour and you’re already trying to get some woman to undress you?” Craig said over a mouthful of food. He’d wasted no time in heading right for the spread laid out on the table.
“The task requires an extra set of hands,” Baldair insisted.
“Mother forbid we’re the ones to help you.” Daniel chuckled, strolling over to the table as well.
“If you think I can help, then it’d be my honor.” Vi smiled up at the prince.
“Then, follow me—”
“Wait,” Craig interjected. She and Baldair turned. “Do… do I know you?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps our paths have crossed in the palace,” Vi said. “I’ve been here for a few years now,” she lied deftly.
“Have you ever been a soldier?”
“I know the eyes of a soldier when I see one,” Baldair proclaimed. He rested his thumb on her chin, knuckle underneath, and turned her face toward his. The prince made a show of studying her eyes. Vi supposed this would be the part when the young woman he flirted with would swoon. But she still floated in that glassy, dark lake of her mind. “These eyes are soft, tender. They haven’t seen the trials of combat.”
Vi smiled sweetly and batted her eyelashes, keeping her laughter at bay.
“I could’ve sworn I saw you in the North,” Craig insisted, unrelenting. “I know your face from a battle.”
She knew of the battle he referred to. It was in their first year—a night filled with fighting and fire, a night when Vi had helped Craig save Raylynn.
“My apologies, my lord.” Vi kept her eyes down, the smile falling into an expression that resembled distress. “I really don’t think—”
“Oh you’ve gone and upset her again. Don’t mind him, Miss…”
“Ivy,” Vi said hastily.
“Ivy, a lovely name.”
“And possibly poisonous,” Craig mumbled. Baldair shot him a glare.
“Follow me, Miss Ivy.” Baldair led her into the bedroom.
“Yes, my prince.”
“‘Baldair’ is fine.” He stood in front of an armor stand, arms out.
“You’ll have to tell me what to do, Baldair.” Vi said the name as though it were a new pair of shoes—uncomfortable and not yet broken in. Her attempt seemed to delight him.
“Start with the sides, there are clasps there—yes, you found them.”
Of course she did. Vi fought the urge to roll her eyes. It wasn’t as if she’d seen every type of armor known
to the continent. Vi diligently worked on getting the prince out of his armor, refraining from being too hasty or skilled but not allowing his instruction to carry on for too long. She didn’t want to hamper their conversation.
“How is the front?” Vi asked as she continued to undo the buckles and clasps. “Will the war be over soon?”
“You didn’t hear my father’s declaration at the Sunlit Stage?”
“I was busy.”
“Oh, right, well, we expect the North to fall soon.”
“You don’t sound happy about that.” She helped hold the armor as he slid out of the main breastplate. Vi waited as the prince situated it on the armor stand.
“I’m happy the fighting will be over.” Genuine conflict shone in his eyes. She realized this was the first time she’d ever had the chance to really talk with the man.
“You don’t like war.”
“What?” He roared with laughter as Vi helped him out of his chainmail. “I’m the creator of the Golden Guard, the most illustrious fighting force in all of Solaris. War isn’t something I shy away from.”
“I didn’t say you did,” she said thoughtfully. “I said you don’t like it.”
Baldair focused on the chainmail that pooled in his hands for a long moment. “Who likes it, really? Other than madmen.” His voice was soft and somewhat distant, his expression oddly vulnerable.
“I agree with you.” Vi knelt down to unfasten his greaves. “You’re right. Who would say they liked war? War is awful and the longer it goes on, the uglier it becomes.”
“You’re not wrong.”
“You know, I grew up in Oparium.” Vi shifted the topic.
“You did?”
“Yes. When I was growing up, we didn’t have many stories of war, but we had plenty about pirates.”
“I bet you did.” He chuckled. Vi stood as he stepped out of his greaves.
“That summer… when you and Lord Jax and Lord Erion came to Oparium, that was what made me want to come to the castle.” Baldair faced her. “My prince—”
“Baldair.”
“Baldair,” she repeated, glancing away as if still modest about using his name without title. “May I ask you something?”