Ash Princess (Ash Princess Trilogy #1)(13)

Before she’s gone, her eyes lock onto mine and a small, tight smile flickers across her mouth. She isn’t clumsy at all. It was a distraction, and one that might cost her her life. I can’t imagine how I’ll be able to meet Blaise tonight, but I will have to try.





MY MOTHER ALWAYS TOLD ME that if we prayed to the gods, they would protect us from harm. Houzzah, god of fire, would keep us warm. Suta, goddess of water, would surround our island and protect us. Ozam, god of air, would keep us healthy. Glaidi, goddess of earth, would keep us fed. There were a dozen other minor gods and goddesses of everything from beauty to animals, though I’ve forgotten most of their names by now.

But I also remember how when the Kalovaxians came, we both prayed and prayed and prayed and it didn’t matter. I didn’t believe they would kill her, because the gods would never allow it. She would be queen until old age took her—it was her due. Even when the blood spilled from her neck and her hand grew slack around mine, I still didn’t believe it. I thought my mother was immortal even after the light left her eyes.

Afterward, I wept. Then I raged, not just against the Kalovaxians but against my gods as well, because they had let my mother die when they should have protected her. The Kalovaxians forced me to replace them with their gods—similar in domains, but more vengeful, less forgiving—but it didn’t matter one way or another. That part of me, the part that believed, had broken.

I try praying now as I lie in bed and wait for midnight. I pray desperately and hopelessly, to all the gods I remember from either religion. Mine feel more like ghosts now, echoes of ancestors I met once but remember more from stories than memories.

I never let a word pass my lips. In the silence, my Shadows’ presence is even heavier. Heresy is a death offense, and I’m sure they would fight one another for the chance to tell the Kaiser, if only so that they could finally be rid of what must be a truly terrible job. They aren’t even supposed to talk to one another, though they break that rule often. I usually fall asleep to them whispering.

Now the room is silent for the first time in my memory. They’re supposed to sleep in shifts, and that is one rule I know they always follow, because all three of them snore horribly and I only ever hear one at a time.

One snore erupts from the northern wall, so deep it almost feels like the floor shakes.

If it’s North’s turn to sleep, East and South usually snicker at his snore, but they don’t now. I close my eyes and listen, trying to strip away North’s snore to hear anything underneath.

And there it is—a whimper of a snore from East, like a mewling puppy.

The Kaiser will be furious if he finds out both of them are sleeping. He doesn’t like to take chances, and my Shadows, like most Kalovaxians, are too terrified of him to risk his wrath.

If only South is watching me tonight, there must be something I can do. One Shadow is easier to mislead than two, though not by much. It’s still one dedicated and deadly man whose entire job revolves around watching every move I make.

But then I hear it: a third snore, this one raspy and light, easy to mistake for a particularly riotous wind pouring through the cracked window.

The realization floods me with joy that’s all too quickly replaced by dread. What are the chances that on the same night Blaise appears and arranges a meeting, my Shadows are all asleep for the first time in ten years? Much lower than the chances that I’m walking into a trap. Felicie comes to mind again and I can see the Kaiser’s angry, red face and the whip in his hand.

This time, the punishment will be worse.

But if it isn’t a trap, if Blaise is really waiting in the kitchen cellar and he was in league with Ampelio, how can I not go?

When the moon is high in the sky and I’m sure most everyone is asleep, I throw my quilt off and slip from the safety of my bed. There is still no sound from beyond the walls, so I inch closer to one of the holes, my heart pounding in my chest.

The snores are unmistakable now from each of the holes. The Shadows are all well and truly asleep. It’s possible, of course, that they all ate and drank too much at the banquet and fell into a deep sleep, but I don’t believe in coincidences. The thought that I’m walking into another one of the Kaiser’s traps paralyzes me for a moment, but I push on. I cannot be a coward anymore.

The icy stone floor feels like needles on the soles of my feet as I tiptoe across it, but my steps are quieter without shoes. Barefoot, I make my way to the door and pause with my hand on the doorknob. It would be so easy, I think, to crawl back into my bed, to banish thoughts of Blaise and Ampelio and my mother to the back of my mind for good. I could bury it all deep inside. I could refrain from angering the Kaiser and he would continue to keep me alive.

But I think of the blood staining my dress, my hands. Of Ampelio.

I suck in a deep breath and force myself to turn the doorknob and push the door open just wide enough to slip through out into the hall. The doors to the Shadows’ rooms are all closed, but there are wine goblets left on the floor outside them. Some kind soul must have brought them drinks from the banquet. Or maybe not so kind, depending on what else was in the wine.

Clever, Blaise. I stifle a smile before realizing that for the first time in ages, no one is watching me. I let myself really smile. For a moment, I think of them asleep in their tiny rooms, and the temptation to spy on them for once passes over me, but I can’t risk waking them.