Page 40 of The Ashes and the Star-Cursed King

I snuck a glance at his profile. He was staring straight ahead, face tense.

Unease stirred in my stomach. Something wasn’t right here. Raihn wasn’t going to execute me. If he was going to, he already would have. He wouldn’t have wasted the medicine or the time to heal me. Torture, though… torture was not out of the question. Maybe Raihn himself wouldn’t do it. But Ketura certainly would, or any of his other generals, if they knew of my role in the armory attack. It was what any king would do—wouldhaveto do—if faced with a traitor inside their own house.

On instinct, my hands went to my hips. Of course, I had no blades.

Raihn didn’t say another word as he led me down the hall, then down a set of stairs and into the next wing, where he opened a door at the end of the corridor.

It was a small space, maybe once a study or sitting room. It was hard to tell, because like most of the rooms in this castle, it had been stripped bare, the bookshelves now empty and not yet repopulated. A single round table sat at its center.

Septimus was there already, not bothering to rise when we entered. Vale stood nearby, his arms crossed, watching me the way a falcon eyed prey, and Cairis rose from his chair when the door opened.

Cairis smiled at me and pulled out one of the empty chairs across from Septimus. “Sit.”

Septimus gave me a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes as I obeyed.

Vale sat beside Cairis, but Raihn remained standing—behind me, and only a couple of feet from my chair, so I could feel his presence but not see him. It made me wildly uncomfortable.

Everyone was staring at me. I was used to being stared at, but not like this—like I was an object of curiosity.

Septimus placed something at the center of the table. A little cluster of shards of glass, stacked on top of each other, silver sigils etched into its surface.

Shit.

The device I’d found in Vincent’s study.

“This probably looks familiar to you,” Septimus said.

I tried very hard not to react.

I didn’t speak, teeth gritted against the sudden certainty that I was about to be tortured. This was why Raihn had kept me alive.

Behind me, his voice shivered down my spine.

“I don’t think we need to ask stupid questions that we all know the answers to, right?” His voice was low, rough. Teasing, with a dark edge. “Oraya doesn’t like games.”

Septimus gave a weak shrug. “Fair. It’s not a question, then, Highness. Youdorecognize this device. You recognize it because you used it.”

Give them nothing,Vincent said.

I kept a careful grip on my nerves, my heartbeat. I was locked in a room with monsters.Fear is a collection of physical responses.

I could practically feel Raihn breathing behind me. I wished he would stand somewhere else.

“You don’t even know what this is, do you?” Septimus said. “This mirror, my Queen, was created specifically for King Vincent. Your father.”

I wondered if hearing those words—even hearing Vincent’s name—would ever stop aching.

“It’s a communication device, and a very useful one, as it can be used to look in on certain individuals no matter where they are in Obitraes—perhaps even anywhere in the world, even if you don’t know their location. An excellent way to keep discreet communication in times of war. Very powerful. Rare. Some poor sorcerer toiled over this for a long time.” Amber-threaded, silver eyes crinkled with that perpetual charming smirk. “Vincent likely gave his blood to make this thing.”

“And?” I said, coldly.

“And,” Septimus said, “youwere able to use it.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said.

His laugh was lower now, colder.

“We don’t need to pretend.”

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