The Cogsmith's Daughter (Desertera #1)(60)

Before Aya could take the scarf, King Archon had already snatched it from the maid and was wrapping it around Aya’s hair.

“I still feel I recognize that hair pin.” King Archon tightened the scarf into place. As he tucked a stray curl behind the scarf, his fingertips brushed against Aya’s neck, and she shivered, imagining the executioner’s blade in their place. “But maybe it is just that you already feel so familiar.”

It took all of Aya’s self-control not to roll her eyes. The king was finally flirting with her—and in the most foolish possible way. Aya imagined those words coming from Willem’s smooth voice, instead of the King Archon’s gravelly one, and she smiled. “I feel like I know you well, too, Your Majesty.”

She did. Aya knew his cruelty better than most. She had seen his true nature ten years ago and received a fresh taste only a few days back. She could not wait for the moment of his execution, when she could reveal her true self to him, when those blue eyes would finally show horrified, glorious recognition. Knowing the king as she did now, she thought he might even be a little proud that his new pet was capable of deception of the same caliber as he. Of course, the difference was that her deception was just, retributive, and not merely for her own sick pleasure.

Once Aya’s headscarf securely sheathed every brown curl, King Archon motioned for the maid to open the doors. She pushed them back at the same time, allowing a gust of wind to blow into the palace. Aya hustled out to the deck, anxious to take in the warm air. It was the perfect temperature, almost exactly matching that of her body, with a full, flowing movement. Aya raised her arms, allowing the warm breeze to envelop her frame and wind around her limbs. It was the closest she had ever been to swimming.

“I’m glad you are enjoying the fresh air,” King Archon said.

“It is divine.”

Divine. Aya remembered the word on Willem’s lips, and her face flushed.

“Shall we take a walk around the deck while our lunch is brought up?”

“Sure.” As soon as she spoke, King Archon once again extended his arm for her to hang on. Aya sighed, wondering whether all noblemen pulled their ladies around like farm animals, or if the king merely could not let her walk by herself for more than a few moments at a time.

King Archon led her over to the railing. They had emerged at the northern side of the palace, and Aya looked down to see the curved rows of farmhouses that made up Bowtown. From here, the people looked the size of lizards, the larger animals like beetles, and the smallest ones like ants. It made Aya’s knees quiver to be so high, and she unthinkingly clutched the king’s arm tighter.

“Are you scared of heights, Aya?”

She looked down at her hand to see four white knuckles and a hooked thumb. Blushing, she loosened her grip. “I’m just not accustomed to them, Your Majesty. I’m much more used to being on the lower end of Desertera.”

King Archon chuckled and patted Aya’s hand. “There is no need to fear them. Even after all these years, the railings are as sturdy as the day they were built. You would have to want to go over them.”

Aya nodded, thinking that she would love for the king to go over them and solve all of her problems himself.

King Archon pulled her closer to his side and began turning her toward Starboardshire.

“Wait,” Aya gasped. “I want to see Portside.”

“Whatever for?”

In truth, Aya wanted to look for her father’s shop and see if she could view its condition from here. She did not make many trips into Portside, except to pick up food or get a dress mended, and she had purposely avoided her childhood home for the last ten years. However, now that she knew it would shortly be hers again, she wanted to see it. She did not know whether another merchant had occupied it or if it simply sat empty and falling to disrepair.

“I want to save Starboardshire for last. I want to look at how far I’ve come and gaze upon my new home at the end.”

King Archon turned them around. “There you go again, charming me with that poetic mind of yours.”

Aya didn’t reply. The tops of merchant shops came into view, and she tried to count in her head which row of stores her father’s shop belonged in. When they finally reached the Portside railing, Aya removed herself from the king and clutched the steel bar with both hands. She leaned slightly over the edge, counting the rows. One, two, three, four, five back from the palace and one, two, three columns south of Bowtown.

The shop was still standing, a good sign. Aya squinted. A woman exited the shop with something in her arms, and a man entered after her. So it was occupied. She hoped the owner had kept it in good shape. It would be a shame if Aya had to hire a carpenter to fix it up for her, especially considering she would be starting her father’s business back up on only the few coins hidden in his urn.

“What are you looking for?” King Archon placed one hand on Aya’s lower back and the other over one of hers on the railing. Aya couldn’t decide whether he was worried she would tip over the edge or if he simply wanted an excuse to touch her. She made the mistake of looking down at his hand, and her eyes found a direct line to the ground below. The guards stood in the shade of the palace, but instead of looking like tall sentinels, from this angle, they looked like little black dots. Aya stepped back from the railing. It was much more terrifying to look directly down than it was outward.