She went on, taking advantage of his surprise, her manner slipping from flippant, bookish princess to something steelier. “Passage to the Rylt is expensive, and it sounds like Kiri isn’t satisfied with whatever amount you sent her off with. You’ll need money for winter food shipments—I know Valleyda has to import most of it, and if any other countries think they can raise prices in the Queen’s absence, it will be more expensive than it already is. Not to mention the recent reductions in prayer-taxes.” She paused. “The Queen’s physicians are expensive, too, I’m sure.”
It was a test, and the split second of silence afterward said he’d failed it. Kayu nodded. “I didn’t think so. Where is she, then?”
“Floriane.”
“Come on, Raffe.”
He pressed his lips flat.
Kayu rolled her eyes. “Fine, don’t tell me.” She gave that one up more easily than he expected. “She’s alive, though.”
“She’s alive. And she’s coming back.”
It was meant to be defiant, but Kayu just nodded, like he’d confirmed something she already knew.
“Your silence.” It came out a sneer. “I’m sure that’s expensive, too.”
Angular brows drew together over her eyes. “You don’t have to buy that.”
Confusion struck him speechless.
She shrugged, looked away. “I meant what I said, about you being achingly noble. Nobility gets people eaten alive, especially people in foreign kingdoms with missing queens. I truly want to help you, Raffe.” The rueful flicker of a smile. “This isn’t the kind of thing you can do on your own.”
His mouth desperately wanted to gape again. He clenched his jaw to keep it from happening.
Kayu patted his chest where he’d slid Kiri’s letter between linen shirt and doublet. “Think about it.” She glided away toward the door and slipped out. It closed quietly behind her.
Raffe stared at it for a moment, rubbing a hand nervously over his close-shorn hair. “Five shadow-damned Kings on five shitting horses.”
Chapter Four
Neve
The tower was beautiful. Brutal, and unnerving, but beautiful. Neve could admit that much.
Four open windows stood at compass points in the walls, their sills carved with sinuous lines reminiscent of shadows, twisting and curling over the wood. A nearly bare shelf was pushed against one wall, housing a collection of cracked ceramic pots. Next to it, a fireplace glowed with still-lit embers that hadn’t been teased into a full blaze. It was strange, to see fire devoid of color. The flames were nearly indistinguishable from the smoke.
Other than the shelf, the only furnishings in the room were a table, a chair, a cot pushed against the far wall.
And her coffin.
Neve froze at the top of the stairs, widened eyes fixed on the place where she’d awakened. The lid to the coffin, glass smoked with tendrils of darkness, was still half off the plinth where she’d pushed it.
Hello, Neve. You’re awake.
That was the first thing she’d heard here, and there’d been a moment—a scant one—when it’d been a comfort. Hearing the voice of another person in this alien landscape, knowing she wasn’t alone.
It wasn’t a comfort anymore.
Solmir went to the shelf, picking up one of the ceramic pots and scowling down into its contents. “Not much,” he muttered to himself, “but it will have to do.” A canvas bag hung on one of the shelf’s posts; he slung it over one shoulder and shoved a handful of whatever was in the pot into the bag. “Something convenient about this place,” he said as he worked. “You don’t need to eat here. One of the benefits of not being, in the most technical sense, alive. You don’t necessarily need to sleep, either, but I still do.” His chin jerked to the cot against the wall. “Old habit, I guess. Not like there’s much else to do.”
But Neve wasn’t listening. She was still transfixed by the coffin.
He noticed. Blue eyes tracked from where she stood to where she looked, and the slash of his mouth bent. “How much do you remember?”
“Enough.” It was scraped-sounding. “I remember the grove. The sentinels. The…” Her hand raised; she flexed her fingers, now pale gray, remembering when they were shot through with shadow.
She didn’t finish, but Solmir nodded. Something flickered in his gaze, hard and bright. “And you remember choosing this?”
A challenge, almost, like he expected her to deny it. But Neve shrugged. “Yes,” she murmured. “I remember that, too.”