Page 8 of Beyond Those Gilded Walls

“If I leave this house, you will both die. If not from the blood plague, then by starvation at the hands of your own arrogance.”

“Then so be it. Even Death did not want you, Odyssa. Why should we?”

I would not let them see me fall apart, would not let them see the shards they’d just shattered my heart into. Pulling on every ounce of willpower in my bones, I carefully pulled my mask back into place, settling into that empty place in my heart that was filled with indifference. My face neutral, forehead smooth and lips straight, jaw relaxed, shoulders down, hands loose.

“Very well then.” Despite what my mother believed, I did know when my rage had no place, and this was one of them. Anger would not change Emyl’s mind, or Rhyon’s heart. If anything, it would only harden them more.

Moving into the hallway, I pulled my cloak from the hook beside the door and fastened it at my throat. I stepped into my shoes, bending down to lace them tightly. There was nothing else to do now but go. Without a backwards glance or a goodbye, I stepped out of the house and pulled the door closed.

My hand faltered on the handle as another cough echoed through the last sliver of space between the door and the frame. And then the door clicked shut, cutting off the sound completely.

I froze on the front stoop, my feet unwilling to move forward. I almost wavered in my decision to leave. Almost.

But if they were unwilling to listen, I would do whatever I could to help them. The pay would be better than nothing, and if the rumors of a treatment were true, I would find it and I would get it back to Rhyon before it was too late.

The cough began again, louder this time. So loud I could hear it through the door. The only solace I took was that the cough was still dry. It meant there was a chance this was not the plague, that perhaps it was a normal sickness brought in by the autumnal dampness.

My mother’s plea in my mind, I vowed I would discover the truth of a treatment. Even if they were not sick now, it was only a matter of time, truly. And I would not take any risks. My plan solidified. Secure the job, infiltrate the castle, discover the treatment, get it to Emyl and Rhyon. And try to keep us all alive in the meantime.

I let my feet lead me into town, my mind still back at our front door, listening to the sound of that cough.

ChapterFive

There were a handful of pubs that Emyl could have gone to, and searching them all would have been tedious. Thankfully—or unfortunately—it was all too easy to distinguish which pub was being used to recruit staff for Prince Eadric. In a place that had become a town of more Soulshades than people, angry crowds were no longer commonplace.

So the one forming in front of the doors to one of the more rundown pubs was a sign I was in the right place. The voices were indecipherable from the top of the street, an angry buzzing of overlapping sounds and words that made my heart climb in my throat as the noise assaulted me. Each step closer to the throng brought both volume and clarity to their protests. Before the plague robbed me of parts of my hearing, I could have heard them long before I approached. But now, I was nearly atop them before the words were decipherable. I wanted to turn and retreat, but I forced each step forward, seeking out their protests.

The words were the same vitriol that was always thrown at anyone who came into town from Castle Auretras, the same hatred for the Coward Prince that had left his people to die. Though today, there was somethingmorebehind them, something reminiscent of the early days of the blood plague, when we were all still begging the crown to do something to help us.

My steps faltered. The city had been resigned in the last months. Early on, some had tried to storm the castle, but every attempt had been unsuccessful and left behind even more bodies. No one tried anymore—there weren’t enough left to risk it. What had the castle’s pageboy brought to the surface to renew the ire?

Approaching the pub, I realized it could hardly be considered a crowd, really, but there were more people gathered than I’d seen throughout the entirety of the last six months. People kept their distance from each other now, either a precaution to avoid any chance of spreading the plague, or to avoid connections, to avoid having to mourn one more person they knew.

“You cannot justtakethem!” someone shouted.

Ice slithered down my veins.Take?

The man at the doorway, a pageboy from the castle based on his embroidered jacket and fitted pants made from a shiny material that likely cost more than an entire month’s wages, rolled his eyes and huffed, tugging on his sleeves. “As I havesaid, Prince Eadric willonlyturn to conscription if there are no volunteers. This is not uncommon and has been done in every city in Veressia. Certainly people still need jobs here too, yes? Send them to me, and there should be no problems.”

“Why should we work for that heartless coward?”

“He has a cure. Why is he doing nothing?”

“I’ll never work for the likes of him.”

“He is not our king! He will not even take the throne!”

The man’s nostrils flared and even from this distance, I could see how his eyes darkened. “Mind your tongues. All of you. King Gavriel did not tolerate rebellion, and neither will Prince Eadric, regardless of his choice of when to ascend the throne. You are subjects of the crown, and you’d do well to remember it.” He straightened his coat, rolling his shoulders back and jutting his chin out. “Now, if you have anyone who would like to volunteer for the honor of serving their royal family, please do send them my way. If there are no volunteers by nightfall, I shall return tomorrow with the names of those selected to serve.”

“How will you choose?” That spurred the crowd back into shouting once more, echoing the sentiment.

“Citizens between the ages of nineteen and twenty-nine will be placed into a lottery to be chosen at random,” he replied. “Now, if that is all.”

The crowd grumbled slightly as they dispersed, running back to the safety of their homes now that there was no one to direct their ire towards. The words they’d spoken were true, though those who spoke them aloud were far braver than I. Prince Eadric was certainly a coward, but there were still those in his employ who would gladly quell an uprising.

A woman brushed past me, our shoulders bumping together. I murmured a soft apology and stepped aside, eyes still fixed on the wooden door that held my fate behind it. The gasp that escaped her lips pulled my eyes down to hers, which were fixed on my neck and chest where the Death marks sprawled and coiled like serpents across my skin.

“Lovely, aren’t they?” I responded, grinning wide and showing my teeth.

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