But Vincent whispered in my ear, You know better, little serpent, than to be willfully ignorant.
No. He was right. I stopped at the window, fingertips pressed to the glass. Something had changed. The Bloodborn that had pulled out certainly wouldn’t be enough to take a city like Misrada.
And—
The explosion wiped away all my thoughts.
It was loud—so powerful I felt it in the pads of my fingers against the glass, even from across the city. A burst of shimmery smoke erupted from the distant armory in a plume of white and blue.
I watched, breathless, as the flare of light burst, then dimmed. I hadn’t seen anything quite like it since…
Since the attack on the Moon Palace, many months ago.
Jesmine. Fucking brilliant. Petty. But brilliant. She’d used magic wielders to recreate the destruction of the Moon Palace, creating a violent distraction. I didn’t blink as distant silhouettes plummeted through the clouds and smoke—countless Hiaj, diving down into the wreckage.
The sight chilled me down to my bones.
I needed to get down there.
I needed to get down there right now.
The explosion had triggered an eruption of activity in the halls beyond my chamber. I ran to my door and leaned against it, listening to the frantic sound of distant running footsteps and shouting voices. Then I pounded at the oak, so hard my fist began to ache.
Whoever was on the other side took a long time to open it, like they weren’t sure whether it was a good idea.
A young Rishan man with wavy blond hair and a look of general bewilderment on his face stood there, looking as if he was immediately regretting his decision.
I blinked. “You aren’t Ketura.”
When I had a guard, it was most often her.
“No,” he said. “I’m Killan.”
If Ketura wasn’t here, that meant that she had been pulled away somewhere else. Perhaps she was already at the armory.
Shit.
“Let me through,” I said, already moving, but Killan clumsily blocked my path. I craned my head to see several more soldiers, donning armor, rushing down the hall.
“I am your queen,” I snarled. “Let me pass.”
Let’s see if all Raihn’s you-aren’t-a-prisoner-you’re-a-queen bullshit actually meant anything.
“I can’t do that, Highness,” Killan said. “I’ve been instructed to guard you. It’s dangerous out there.”
I’ve been instructed to guard you, the boy said, like I didn’t see his nostrils flaring when I got too close. He wasn’t equipped to guard anything. He didn’t even know how to resist the smell of human blood.
If this was all that was left in this castle, that meant they were really desperate.
I took a step backwards. Two.
Killan loosened a visible exhale of relief.
Remember who you are, Vincent whispered.
What the hell was I doing, asking this boy for permission to leave? Letting him think he could guard me?
I’d won the Goddess-damned Kejari. I’d won battles against vampire warriors twice my size and ten times my age. I was the daughter of Vincent of the Nightborn, the greatest king to rule the House of Night, and I was his rightful Heir, and I was better than this.
Mother, I had missed anger. I embraced it now like welcoming an old lover back into my arms.
Nightfire roared to my fingertips and tore up my forearms.
It wasn’t hard to deal with Killan. The boy had probably never even hit another living thing with that sword, and he certainly wasn’t prepared for me to be the first. The touch of Nightfire had him gasping in pain, bloodless wounds opening over his arms where I grabbed him and flung him against the wall. He tried to fight back, weakly, but I knocked his sword from his grasp, sending it clanging to the marble floor.
It felt so good to fight again. So good I wanted him to push back harder. I wanted more of a challenge.
I wanted to hurt a little.
But Killan didn’t offer much of a fight. No, he just panted, his heart beating fast—Mother, how could I hear that heartbeat so clearly?—as I pressed my forearm to his throat, Nightfire nibbling at his skin.
My foot reached to the left and dragged his sword back. I reached down to grab it, and Killan tried to slip my grasp.
Useless. Seconds and I had him back against the wall, this time with his own sword poised at his chest.
He looked so afraid.
That used to bring me a lot of satisfaction. To see them afraid. A few brief moments where they felt the kind of powerlessness I had felt my entire life.
For a moment, I felt satisfaction in it now, too.
If it feels this good to have one person look at you this way, little serpent, Vincent murmured, imagine how good it feels to see a kingdom look at you like this.