Page 27 of Kept

She froze in the act of pulling out a chair. Her gaze darted from me to Radu.

“Answer the queen,” he said gruffly.

“M-Mira,” she said. Her cheeks turned a brilliant pink. “Your Grace,” she added hastily.

It was a common name for girls in the South. Parents named their daughters after the Lord of the Mir. The male version was Miro.

“It’s lovely,” I told her. I looked at the young man. “And yours?”

“Henrik,” he mumbled.

“Do you—” I cut myself off before I could ask if they missed their families. Of course they did. I licked my lips and tried again. “Have you received letters from home?”

The thralls exchanged a look. Mira spoke in a tone that was almost apologetic. “Your Grace, neither of us can read or write.”

Embarrassment flooded me. Or maybe it was shame.

I looked between the thralls. “If you wish it, I could write letters for you.”

Radu stayed silent, but I could feel his disapproval.

Mira’s eyes lit up. “You would do that?”

A scream split the air. High-pitched and full of terror, it sounded like it came directly from the courtyard. Before it cut off, several more rang out—along with the clang of steel on steel. I rushed toward Laurent’s balcony, only to stumble to a halt when Radu stepped into my path.

“No windows, Your Grace.”

I tried to step around him.

He moved quickly, his crimson cloak swinging out as he blocked me. “The general—”

“Lord Varick said no windows, Captain. He said nothing about the balcony.” I drew a deep breath. “Step aside, sir. Please.”

“I have my orders, Your Grace. It’s thirty lashes if I disobey the general.”

“I’ll speak to him.”

“Respectfully, ma’am, that won’t do any good. And even without the lashes, I wouldn’t disobey Lord Varick.”

“That’s admirable, Captain, but I need you to get out of my way.”

“I can’t do that, Your Grace.”

I feinted left. He anticipated it, his big body blocking my path before I saw him move. Outside, men’s shouts joined the screams. The sound of shattering glass drifted through the windows.

“Step aside, Captain Radu,” I growled, cursing myself for leaving Avenor’s sword behind. I waited for the grip to fill my hand, but nothing happened.

Radu’s gaze flicked to something over my shoulder. The guards. Just as a hand clamped around my arm, I slipped from my body.

I heard it hit the floor behind me as I landed in front of the balcony doors. Sunlight blazed, the glare so bright I had to fumble for the latch before I caught it and stumbled outside. For a moment, I was blinded, and I threw up a hand as my ears filled with screams and the sounds of battle on the streets below.

I blinked rapidly, willing my vision to clear. When I lowered my arm, a cry ripped from my throat.

The Deepnight above Lar Katerin looked like an angry god had dropped a boulder directly over the city, creating a perfect hole in the canopy. Now, the twilight formed a hazy circle on the horizon, leaving all of Lar Katerin exposed. Harsh morning sunlight baked the streets, where Sithistran knights with mirrors fought bloodied and burnt Nor Doruvians. Everywhere I looked, men sparred in hand-to-hand combat. Swords flashed. Light from the Sithistrans’ mirrors bounced everywhere, striking off buildings and vampires. A Nor Doruvian knight caught a beam in the face and fell to the ground, his skin smoking. Another knight grabbed his cloak and dragged him backward into the shadows of a building.

Motion drew my eye to a narrow street near the palace gate. A pair of Sithistran soldiers pulled a screaming female from a merchant’s shop. She fought them, clinging to the doorway before they forced her into the street. Her scream turned to wails as her skin caught fire. One of the soldiers kicked her to the ground, where she writhed as the flames consumed her. A second later, she turned to ash.

“No,” I whispered, my knees loosening. Shock and disbelief warred within me. The Sithistrans were here. Humans marched through the streets of Lar Katerin, slaughtering lowpeople and killing warrior knights. They were aided by the sun, which the lowpeople couldn’t endure. I stared at the ash pile that had been the female, my mouth watering uncontrollably as vomit surged up my throat.

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