Chapter thirty - Trickery

When the joyous parades of people clink their chalices and go forth with the celebrations, I make a move to the entrance of the throne room. I'd waited around cautiously for a good five minutes, watching Link and Illias talk by the walls, Iker, flirt, and fail with a girl while Freya distracted Idris, although his irritation was clear as day. Much like Lorcan's with Rydan's continuous nagging even after the dance had finished.

Weaving through guests, I arrive at the foot of the latticework doors already open. I step out into the hallways and look to my right, where Darius leans against a pillar. With one coin flipping up and down, he smiles, turning his head to me. "Took you a while, Goldie."

"Let's just get this over with," I mutter, walking past. It takes him two seconds to be by my side, and I peer up as the light from the throne room gilds the tan of his skin, disappearing as darkness shields the corridors and silence follows.

The slight side smile hints that he knows I'm looking at him, so I divert my gaze elsewhere, turning each corner when his firm hand pulls me back.

Startled and wide-eyed, I stare up at him as he presses me against the wall and places my arms around his neck. "What are you doing?" I whisper, but it's ineffective when he hushes me and slides a hand by my waist, pulling me further to him.

My sight then catches onto a Venator guarding the hallways as he walks down our path. The moon shadows through the double-hung windows, casting an iridescent light against Darius as he sends the Venator a single nod. "Evening."

Resisting the urge not to hit Darius, I look as the Venator slightly laughs at our position, not thinking of us as any threat other than just two... lovers.

"You should really give me more credit for always saving you," Darius lowers his head to mine in a drop of a whisper once the Venator heads off into a different sector of the palace.

"I'd rather give credit to a Rumen," I say flatly, sliding my hands down to his chest and pushing him off as I waltz as far away from him as I possibly can.

"Or perhaps that guy," he says, trailing after me again. "Lorcan."

I stop, carefully turning on my heel, but I don't utter a word that can make his grin widen—an infuriating grin, that is.

"Oh, come on, Goldie, I saw the way you were looking at him." He chuckles under his breath, putting his hands in the pocket of his breeches. "You were practically undressing him with your gaze."

And that's enough of that.

Pivoting back around, I eye each door, the ones I'd looked at when I was last here and the areas I'd tried to memorize off by heart.

"I get it," Darius says into my ear. "A man can be just as desirable as a woman. You clearly want—"

I exhale sharply and whirl to him, pointing a finger at his chest. "You know who isn't desirable? You."

His gaze is challenging. "You're right, I'm—" Lips part, and then he breathes a laugh inclining his head, so it's inches from mine. "More than that title."

I snort. A pig, fool, prat, horrid, worse than Rumens? All fit his title to perfection. "Just how hard did you hit your head as a child?"

He pretends to think it over. "Enough to know the difference between winning and losing a fight."

Rolling my eyes, I spin but not before sticking my tongue out at him as if I were a child myself. He cheated the first time we fought, is what I would say, but he'd find a loophole, so he wins that argument anyway. And by the time we've stormed certain areas of the palace, my mind wonders if anyone has realized I'm not there.

"Here," I by no means reply with a blunt tone as I halt by a door, the same one the queen took me in the other day.

Darius surveys it warily like he's not sure whether to believe me or not. I jerk my head at it again, each minute just wanting to get out of here, to see my brothers, to breathe for a second.

He hovers his hand over the brass knob. Flame designs flash bright once the moonlight hits the doorway, and then Darius opens it.

With a creak, I snap my head at him, puzzled that it isn't locked. My gut curls at the idea this is a trick, that the queen knows, and she suspects this exact thing to happen.

For us to try and steal the pendant off her.

"Wait." I grasp his arm, tugging at him. The need to get us out of here begs me to say it, but as he looks over his shoulder, the only thing to flare out of me is— "What did you do with that goblin?"

He quirks a brow at where my hand is. "For a Venator—"

"Trainee," I say with impatience, not realizing this is the first time I've ever corrected him on that.

"Trainee," he amends in vague humor. "You seem to care a lot about the welfare of creatures."

I let go. "I don't."

He tips his head back, laughing, his throat moving to the vibrations of his voice. "You're also a terrible liar."

"You can read minds now or what?"

"No." He looks down at me with a darkened gold gleam in his eyes. "But I can hear your heartbeat speed up when you lie."

I inhale a breath, clutching where my heart rests, feeling it thump rapidly beneath my palm. How many times had he listened to my heart?

"And to answer your first question," he lilts. "He's safe."

For a moment, relief floods me to my core, then I think how previously I really hadn't cared for creatures. I'd despised them, caught them, and sold them off to Ivarron. But ever since that dragon they'd captured in my village, things had changed.

Darius gleans in my silence as he passes to go inside, and I don't stop him. Instead, I swallow any worry and follow. The draft from the windows blow the honey-colored curtains across, reflecting its shimmers onto ornaments and the settee where the queen had lounged in front of me.

My eyes journey the room, highlighted dimly by the bright colors of the décor, and then they lock with the pendant twinkling its gold around the neck mannequin.

As if Darius has spotted it too, he slowly moves towards it. Skillful fingers unclasp the back before he holds it upward and it twists and turns in all sorts of directions like a beacon of light... a river flowing its course North. Admiring it from the queen was something I can say that intrigued me, but in Darius's hands, fascination flashes in my blue gaze.

It's still too easy, though, and I can see Darius knows that with how he frowns like he'd expected more to it.

"Did you know the queen is a sorceress?" I ask, my voice softer than I'd anticipated like it's still in awe of the pendant. I don't know what caused me to say that, but it was out before I could think it through. When Darius doesn't answer, I flicker my eyes to him and rephrase. "Do all the shifters know?"

He stares ahead, thinking my question over as he slides the pendant through his fingers. "A few."

Leira didn't know much, she only told me what her sister had once said, and her sister had been with a shifter.

"She's one without power." I tilt my head, acknowledging the little information I'd gotten from the queen. "Why?"

Both brows lift as he looks me over. "That's a question you should ask her, not me."

"But you know why, don't you?" I press, starting to get agitated.

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't."

Frustration coils up in my chest. "Just tell me."

"I'm not up for a history lesson right now, unless—" he flicks the words right off his tongue, enticing and full of wonder. "You think of the queen differently to what a Venator does?"

Testing me, he's testing my loyalties to the queen. I ball my fists, knowing my answer is uncertain. I'd already proven my loyalties do not lie with her by helping Darius, but do I trust the queen? That is an entirely other question I'd not explored. "You got the pendant," I grumble, choosing not to mention Sarilyn again. "Now, give me what I need."

He winces. "About that, Goldie." flicking a finger up, he brings it to his lips. "My blood doesn't grant immortality."

If the world around me didn't just shake, I'm certain it's the anger inside trembling instead. "What?" A hiss of breath seeps out of me.

He strolls around the room, dangling the pendant from his hand, clueless to my glare on his every movement. "Sure, it possesses healing abilities like any other dragon blood, but if you wanted that, you could just go to the illegal markets in the Draggards and pick a vial up yourself."

A lie, that's what it all was.

"So, all this time, you've been tricking me into believing you had what I needed?" My voice is pure fury igniting my very veins.

Pausing, he now looks at me with a pert smile. "Well, I didn't make you believe. I just never said if I did or not."

The fury from before warps within every blood vessel of my being as I lunge at him with my fist in the air. But he snatches my wrist, crossing it between us and not lowering it as he huffs in mock, "What did I say about the face?"

That just makes me want to strike him even more, arrogant ass. "I knew I shouldn't have trusted you!"

Even with his arm barricading us, he still holds me and leans in. "Did you ever trust me to begin with?"

"No... I didn't." I try and slide out of his grip, but he makes it impossible to do so.

"That's right because you hate me, isn't it?" A taunt, a ridicule over the other day.

"With a passion." I grit, and he finally releases me with a humming smirk as I stumble backward.

"Well, Goldie, it's been wonderful working with you." He saunters over to one of the windows. "Feel free to scream for any Venators to come, although that won't help your case if you don't want to be trialed and hanged."

"Have you always been this selfish?" I rush up to him, lifting my gown a little. His leg is just over the ledge when he wraps the pendant around his neck and stares at me—a soul-purpose stare.

"I've been worse."

"Solaris, I despise you." I shake my head, my words sharp, almost gritting.

His eyes flicker to my lips, and then he lowers himself to the side of my head. "I know," he whispers, and my breaths draw in shallow. "But do you despise me that much to take me down with you... Naralía?"

My lips are unmoving. Yes, is the answer I want to conform with but can't bring myself to say it.

Air brushes my hair back as his presence vanishes, and he jumps from the ledge with dexterity. I immediately brace my hands against it, watching him wink up at me, but he'd not transformed. He's not using any powers to escape, all because... because he can't fly.

And I'm not yelling towards anyone for help, to inform them of who I've seen since he is right, I'd helped him, and another side of me can't rat him out and what I know of him.

***

Numbly, I walk into the throne room again, laughter echoes the walls, but I don't make sense of it as I focus on Illias. He's smiling, content with Link. I can't imagine the sorrow they'll feel once my brothers leave early in the morning, to head back to Ivarron.

"Where were you?" Freya cuts my sights off, furrowing her brows in front of me. "Do you know how hard it is to please Idris—"

"I'm sorry, Freya. I just—I need some fresh air." I glance at the open balcony overlooking the city.

As if she notices how out of it I am, she touches my shoulder consolingly. "Would you like company?"

I shake my head, taking a step to walk past her. "I'll be fine."

She latches onto my upper arm, and I swivel my head to meet her stare. "But you're not fine, are you?"

Something about how she looks at me is like a heavy observation, as if she can see right through me and... read me.

I thread my fingers under hers, plucking each one off as I sigh. "I'll tell you everything soon, I promise."

A look of worry skims her features, but she nods in reluctance, and I stagger towards the balcony, ignoring the queen's eyes moving along with me.