Black Crown (Darkest Drae, #3)(59)

Keep yourself veiled and shielded, Tyrrik said. There’s no reason for anyone in Azule to know you’re here. In fact, while you’re at it, keep me and Tiago veiled as well. Too much could go wrong.

The logistics of landing and delivering everyone into the castle in a way that seemed normal eluded me for only a brief moment before I grasped how to implement his plan. Got it.

A courtyard sat below. A platform was pushed to one side of the sectioned off area, and on the other side of the wooden railing, a large crowd of people milled around. We descended into a mostly empty portion of the courtyard railed off from the rest just outside the smoky castle.

I kept the veil around our party and allowed Tyrrik to land first. He waited for the others to disembark before he shifted and held his finger to his lips.

“Dyter, don’t tell the king or queen about the Phaetyn,” he said. “Be as vague as you can with the plan, parceling out the details only as necessary. Ryn will keep me, Tiago, and herself veiled while you discuss an alliance.” He glanced at the rest of the group, directing his instructions more broadly. “If we need to leave urgently, Ryn will veil everyone, so if you suddenly see us appear, it means Ryn pulled you back into the veil or she’s dropped it entirely. Either way, you’ll need to move fast. If Dyter or Dilowa”—Tyrrik studied the party—“or either of you assassins can tell negotiations are headed in the wrong direction, use the keyword Ryhl, and we’ll get out.”

By the time he was done talking, I’d shifted into my Phaetyn form, keeping my veil around everyone. As a group, we climbed over the railing of the empty portion of the courtyard and into the crowd.

Why do you think there’s a platform there?

I have no idea, Ryn. But I don’t like it.

I stared at the beautiful Azulis, listening, and tried to decipher their language. I hadn’t expected them to speak another language, really. The Phaetyn and Gemonds all spoke the same as the place I’d been raised. It took me several moments to realize they were speaking in the same language I’d heard all my life, just the accent and some words were unfamiliar.

“Och, what a tzimmes! You’d ‘ave thought she done it on purpose,” a man said, frowning when he bumped into me, only to see nothing there. “Oye, I’ve tipped too much tonight, thought something was there, but no . . .”

We pushed through the crowd, jostling our way across in single-file until we reached the other side of the courtyard. I pulled the shield off the assassins first and then Dilowa.

Drop it now, one at a time.

I’m already on it, mate. I squeezed Tyrrik’s hand and pulled the Phaetyn shield off Zarad and Gairome and finally Dyter but keeping me, Tyrrik, and Tiago covered.

Dyter wasted no time approaching the guards at the castle doors to request an audience with the ruler of Azule. Before, we’d been excited about the queen ruling . . . but it didn’t seem to matter who ruled the kingdom any longer. We were all on edge, and I was surprised when the Azuli guard greeted Dyter with a smile and waved us inside.

Tyrrik, Tiago, and I followed behind the group, sticking close together under my veil as the Azuli guard led our party within the castle. A cool breeze rolled off the ocean and drifted in the windows, wafting through the busy halls.

The courtiers wore pale linen aketons, some thin enough that the garment bordered on sheer. The women wore their hair in curls and braids, some piled high on their heads and others cascading over their shoulders. Many wore gems in their hair, around their necks, wrists, and fingers. The farther into the castle we got, the more jewelry the women wore; some had small stones embedded in their ears or the fleshy part of their nose.

Why are their lips so red? The woman I was staring at had lips the color of the rubies around her neck, and the lids of her eyes were painted gold and orange with a black line extending from the corner of her eyes, making her appear almost feline. Her fingernails were long, at least half an inch and painted in a vibrant orange. She was engaged in conversation with someone, but she held my attention until we’d passed. What is it with these people?

It’s a status of wealth I’d assume, Tyrrik said.

It makes them look . . . unnatural. I grimaced. I couldn’t even fathom how much time it would take to do something like that. And why? Are all wealthy people crazy?

Maybe, he replied. He threaded his fingers through mine so we could walk side-by-side. You’re wealthy. Are you crazy?

I’m not going there, I replied primly, squaring my shoulders. Besides, if I’m crazy, you most definitely are. And I’m not wealthy yet. Not until I get our hoard. Right now, I’m just a thief people won’t tell off because they’re afraid I’ll eat their bones—or something.

We approached another group of individuals, and only Tyrrik’s movement propelling me forward stopped me from gaping. These four wore shimmery aketons that were completely sheer. They all wore a fitted garment around their parts, and the two women had their breasts mostly covered, or were those jewels?

What is that? I pointed at the group as we strode past and turned my head to continue to study the nobles. They put jewels on their bodies? And why wear anything if your garment is completely sheer?

You can study their culture later—

I faced forward again, my gaze snagging on yet another group. Their robes were no different than others we’d seen, but dark paint covered their skin instead of jewels. Unease skittered down my spine.