Sleep forced them—and their courts—to hand over the reins. Without it, both sides would vie for power until eventually petty clashes turned into full-scale war.
“If, that is, Your Majesty can get his hands on the relic.”
Lucius didn’t look up from the report, palms pressed together, fingertips touching his lips.
More silence, though the heavy toll of my heartbeat tried to break it.
End the Sleep. Fuck. Fuck.
“But…” Caelus rocked forward on his feet, frowning at Lucius. “Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but isn’t the whole point of two courts and two rulers balance?”
“Balance?” Lucius laughed, though it was more sneering than amused. “You think she cares about balance? You think she wouldn’t use this to her own ends if she got her claws into it? Caelus, you are but a child if you believe that.”
I clenched my hands at the way he spoke of my queen.
He sighed, shaking his head as if explaining something sad to a youth who hadn’t yet been broken by the world. “There is only balance while both sides remain true to it, and that woman hasn’t been true to anything since she was a babe at her mother’s teat. If we don’t secure this thing, she will.”
Caelus’s throat bobbed. “Of course, Your Majesty. So… the plan is to secure it—to keep it safe.”
“You’ve played your part well.” Lucius smiled slowly. “However, my plan is my concern.”
With a flick of his fingers, he dismissed Caelus. As the door clicked shut, Lucius sat back, teeth baring in a wide, wide smile.
I knew what that smile meant.
His plan was to use this relic, whatever it was, on himself alone. There would be no sharing. The Night Queen would still be subject to Sleep and Dawn’s power would spread, unchecked.
A threat to me. To the queen. To everyone in Dusk.
And it would be my fault.
14
Bastian
The overheard meeting heavy in my ears, I stomped back to my office and wrote up a report of everything I’d heard.
By the time I’d finished, the sun was setting, so I stomped to the queen to brief her as she ate breakfast. I left out what I’d just heard—I needed time to process the information and verify it. There was no sense in worrying her if this turned out to be nothing more than myth and legend.
At last, I could turn towards our rooms. I needed sleep. Or to break something.
As if Hydra Ascendant wasn’t enough of a problem, now I had Dawn to worry about.
Maybe it linked to unCavendish’s plot. Though if he’d known, he would’ve asked Kat to get the note, and she hadn’t mentioned it in her debriefing interview. Assuming she’d been honest with me.
Even a single court had different factions—Dusk and Dawn alike. It could be unCavendish had worked for one that knew nothing of this rumoured artefact.
I’d know if Kat had trusted me from the start.
“Fuck.”
If the king escaped Sleep…
I threw open the door to my rooms and slammed it in my wake. “Fuck!”
Light spilled from the living room door and inside I found Kat curled up on the settee, eyes wide.
“What’re you still doing up?” Normally I managed to avoid being alone with her by returning from work so late.
She flinched at my tone, and maybe it was a little harsh, but my muscles were wound too tightly to speak any differently.
Eyebrows raised, she waved a book. “I hadn’t realised the time. Is that a problem?”
I made a low sound as I headed to my bedroom.
She had access to the library now. She could read all she wanted. It was fine.
Yet, the closer I got to the door, the tighter my jaw ratcheted. Gripping the handle, I blasted out a breath. “You couldn’t have just given me back the damn note, could you?”
It had chewed at me all the way back from the hidden courtyard. The message that had been hidden in my orrery—the one I’d risked leaving Riverton Palace for the night she’d robbed me—must have contained something about this thing that would cure the Sleep.
I shook my head, teeth grinding. “You might’ve screwed us all by burning it.” And it would be my fault for letting her take it and not getting it back sooner. I’d been so confident I could lure her into returning the orrery—and I had. But not quickly enough.
Even now, when I turned and found her wide eyes on me, the green so rich I could pick out the colour from here, I was a fool for her.
A damn fool.
“I…” She shook her head, eyelids fluttering. “I didn’t.”
She’d lied.
My stomach sank. “So you gave it to him.” Of course she did. She had been working for him.
That was worse. So much worse. UnCavendish might’ve had more information than I’d ever realised. I should’ve kept him alive for questioning.
But seeing him stand over Kat as she lay dying…
Madness had gripped me.
And because of that, because of a beautiful woman who’d been sent to seduce and spy on me, I risked failing my queen and court—my entire country.
“I suppose you told him about my other self, too.”
She’d left that out of her report, but couldn’t humans lie? I’d been so ready to believe her, I hadn’t questioned the answers she’d given at her debriefing.
Stiffening as if suddenly understanding who I was referring to, she stood and tossed the book on the settee. “No, and also no.” Her delicate nostrils flared and her eyes blazed like gemstones catching the light. “I may not have trusted you to keep my court safe, but by the time I got your orrery open, I didn’t trust unCavendish either.”
Her jaw worked side to side, and the hard pounding of my heart kept me quiet. I didn’t trust myself to speak or move—I might erupt and say something I truly regretted. Even if she hadn’t given the note to unCavendish, she… I… we might’ve doomed us all.
“You want the damn thing so badly. Fine.” She blasted past me, flinging the door open.
I sucked in long breaths in an attempt to regain control of myself. The thud and clatter of her crashing around her room echoed back along the corridor.
She’d been too much of a distraction in Lunden. I’d focused on her, telling myself it was work, when I should’ve paid more attention to the Dawn delegation.
She came stomping down the corridor and stopped in the doorway, mouth pinched. “I may have spied on you, Bastian, but I told you—it became real for me. I changed my mind.” For a second, her voice wavered. “That was why I protected you in this.” She shoved my orrery at me.
The contact with her skin rocked through me, our magic searing then sweet.
I held my breath against a reaction, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the shudder that ran through her.
Instead of looking like she enjoyed it, she screwed her eyes shut and scowled, like she would burn the magic out of her body if she could. I knew it was a pleasurable feeling for her as it was for me, after the pain—I’d seen her pupils blow wide, the flush on her skin.
But tonight, it was as though I was the poison and not the antidote.
“I always kept what was yours—what was personal.” Possibly oblivious to the fact our hands were still entwined, she glared up at me, yet her chin trembled. “I haven’t told a soul about your second self, just like I’d never tell anyone about your nightmares.”