Since the crown prince was currently aboveground, there was still time to refine her plan before the council gathered. She’d left him with Caldon after finishing lunch, claiming that her head wound was causing her pain and she wanted to take a nap. His concern had caused a prickle of guilt, but she’d forced herself to ignore it. No matter how she felt when she was around him, no matter how much he clearly cared for her, she had to remember that they were on opposite sides of the throne. And because of their bloodlines, they always would be.
There was no hope for them.
There never had been.
And she couldn’t afford to forget that.
Ever.
Silencing her thoughts, Kiva continued down the passageway, resisting the urge to slink along the edges where the light from the luminium beacons faded into shadows. It was quiet, with only a handful of servants and palace workers traveling beneath the river. Thankfully, there were no guards stationed along the path; the only two she saw were covered in sweat and returning from the training yard, both of them young, off duty, and deep enough in conversation to not even glance her way.
With no eyes on her, it was easy for Kiva to reach the doorway that had prompted Jaren’s adverse reaction, and she quickly slipped through it, groaning at the sight of yet more stairs.
Similar to the path that had led to the training cavern, before her was another downward tunnel, but this one was lit by small luminium orbs, the glow fading into the distance and all but daring her to investigate.
Kiva hadn’t survived as long as she had by acting rashly. There was no telling how far the passage descended or what it led to. And if the council members were to arrive while she was exploring . . . If Jaren were to find her sneaking around down there and catch her in her lie . . .
She bit her lip, deliberating for a moment before pushing aside her misgivings and starting downward, cursing at the renewed burn in her legs. When she finally came to the end of the staircase, she felt no relief, since she now faced a fork in the path.
Kiva peered down both tunnels, having no idea which to take. Worse, neither was lit by luminium orbs, so if she continued onward, she would be doing so blind.
Knowing she couldn’t afford to dally, Kiva set off along the right fork. Trailing one hand against the rough stone wall, she kept the other raised before her to keep from walking into anything, praying to the long-forgotten gods that there were no more stairs that she might tumble down.
Just as the darkness became too much and she decided to turn back, her foot collided painfully with stone.
Hissing, Kiva jumped up and down, before crouching and running her hands along what she’d walked into, discovering it to be a staircase traveling back upward. Squinting through the gloom, she was able to make out the slightest trace of light up ahead, indicating that the ascent wasn’t long.
Reaching the top of the short staircase, Kiva’s heart leapt when she hit a dead end and discovered the source of the light. It was stronger now that she was closer — and now that she understood where it came from.
It was sunshine.
She hadn’t found the council meeting room. But she wasn’t disappointed, because above her head was an iron grate. Through the slits, Kiva could see that it opened up near the bank of the Serin River — and, more importantly, outside the palace walls.
Entirely by accident, she’d found what appeared to be an emergency escape route out of the tunnels.
An unguarded escape route.
Kiva assumed it was in place should the Royal Council ever need to evacuate in a hurry, and while part of her wanted to test the grate, to step out of the dark passage and return aboveground, she knew her task wasn’t yet complete.
Turning from the exit, Kiva made her way carefully back down the staircase and along the pitch-black path, refusing to consider the repercussions of her discovery. If an unmonitored opening could be used to escape, it could also be used to infiltrate — and that was dangerous knowledge. She almost wished she hadn’t found it, if only so she wouldn’t have to decide what to do with the information, and who to share it with.
Tripping on a loose rock, Kiva cursed her distracted thoughts. The very fact that she was questioning whether or not to reveal what she’d found made her insides churn, but that feeling eased when she remembered that she didn’t have to do anything about it yet. She could take the time to consider whether it was worth sharing — and whether she could bear the burden of any consequences.
Clearing her mind — and quieting her traitorous heart — Kiva made her way back to the fork in the path and turned down the blackened left tunnel, walking blindly once more. It was a mercifully short journey before her outstretched hand met a solid surface. She feared it was another dead end, this time without an exit, but then she felt the distinct shape of a door handle and hesitated only briefly before opening it.