Incendiary (Hollow Crown #1)(59)

The memories gather at the edges of my mind. The Gray is always there, a winding dark that, today, looks more and more like the tunnels beneath the palace. I can’t repeat what happened in the bathtub last night. Today, I push back with everything I have. I touch the flower clasp in my hair again, the pointed edge sharp enough to keep my mind focused.

Leo locks the door as we leave, standing in front of it to hide the combination, a sobering reminder that he is no friend of mine. I swallow a strange swell of hurt and hurry down the hallway. Once again we pass the plain wooden door, and once again it gives me pause—this time it’s slightly ajar.

The smell of old books and dust wafts from the opening, more powerful than any memory. I remember reading books on a long chaise against the tallest window. The only friend I had in the palace, a young boy, would sneak in and pass the time by rolling dice across the floor. I take in a sharp breath and place my hand on the open door. My heart races in my chest. I need to remember, need to see, and yet the memory of this room is suffocating.

But before I can peer inside, Leo is with me.

“My, you are in a hurry now, Lady Renata.” His green eyes glide toward the door but he doesn’t appear fazed at the idea that someone is in there. “Shall we?”

A headache threatens at my temples, and so I give a quiet nod.

We take the sky bridge that leads to the new northeast tower. Here, the design is different. The colors vibrant and blue, as if dedicated to the nautical and river towns and villages of Puerto Leones. Real shells and pearls embedded in the stone.

I stop for a moment in front of the pillars that mark the entrance of the northeast tower. I have a sweeping sense that I’ve been here before. Unlike the adjacent pillar covered in deep blue mosaic tiles, this one has muted, softer blues, as if it once belonged elsewhere. Perhaps I’m wrong. Perhaps it’s part of the design. The feeling prickles my skin.

“A word of advice, Lady Renata. Always address King Fernando before anyone else, even the prince,” Leo rattles off. “Prince Castian likes to be addressed as Lord Commander, not Your Highness or even Your Grace. Don’t look at him directly in the eye unless you’re ready for the longest staring contest of your life. Understood?”

Without waiting for my response, Leo tugs my gloved hand around the pillar and back on course. It’s strange to have someone I don’t know holding my hand like this, but I force myself to not pull away.

I see the massive doors at the end of the corridor and my heart flutters at my throat because I can see myself in their mirrored surface.

“That’s a new design,” Leo says as I stare ahead. He leans into my ear as if to fix a tendril. “He can see you from the other side.”

I keep one hand on Leo’s arm and the injured one rests over my stomach, where everyone can see. I wonder, who is behind those doors other than the king and the justice? There are no guards posted. No need—not when they can see you coming.

“Ready?” Leo whispers. He reaches for the door handles, a set of lions with open mouths, bodies midpounce.

I shut my eyes for a moment and see Dez instead, clear as glass, backlit by hundreds of stars. My heart thrums in my chest. I’m back here for him. I’m back here so his death matters. I can feel the pin against my scalp like a branding iron. Opening my eyes, I nod.

Leo yanks the door open.

The small court that’s gathered ceases its chatter. Whispers are traded from across the room. The sound of it is like wasps gathering around my head, ready to sting.

I keep my eyes on the ground because I’m afraid my feet are going to give out beneath me. There’s something equally unnerving about the sound of my heels, clack clack clack, echoing in the deadly silence of the room. The sound of a sword hacking away at bone. The sound of a mallet crushing a skull open. I think of terrible things to keep my mind sharp because when I stare into Prince Castian’s eyes, it’ll take all of my willpower not to immediately slit his throat. First, find the box.

I do as Leo instructed and keep my hands clenched in front of me. He stops a few paces ahead. My cue to look up.

I feel myself sway, but Leo subtly steps close, using his body to keep me upright. It gives me the split second needed to compose myself.

There, surrounded by Justice Méndez, other judges, and a gaggle of young courtiers, is King Fernando. He sits so straight it’s like he’s tied to the back of his throne. To his right sits Queen Josephine, the king’s young third wife and princess of Dauphinique. Her elegant features and polished black skin make her youth stand out against her husband. To the king’s left is an empty seat. Prince Castian is nowhere to be found.

I breathe to steady my heartbeat. He should be here. Where is he? Did he take the wooden box with him or leave it with Méndez? Dread runs cold through me. What would my unit do if they were in my shoes? They wouldn’t have come here alone, clearly. Margo would find out everything she could about where the prince went. Sayida would be patient and stay close to Méndez. Esteban would befriend the palace guards and find secrets that way. He learned that from Dez.

My heart sinks with disappointment, but the feeling is quickly replaced with uneasy wonder as I take in the display before me. The throne room is narrow, as if streamlined to get a look at whoever is approaching on the other side of the mirrored doors. Arched windows depict the history of the Fajardo conquest of Puerto Leones, each a splash of color that filters prisms of light into the room and leads right to where the king sits on a throne made of alman stone.