Page 86 of A Legacy of Storms and Starlight

“That depends on who you ask,” Saphi said at her other side. “Some say the seven destroyed them. Others say they fled. None of them have been seen or heard of in centuries.”

Zylah looked back over her shoulder at the dispersing dancers. Some took off their masks and smiled; others still weaved through the crowd. She’d seen the Asters. She didn’t dare dwell on what otheratrocitiesremained.

Rose had been quiet for most of the walk, and at first, Zylah had wondered if it was to do with what she’d overheard the Fae say about her mother. But when Zylah had stopped to watch the dancers, Rose had seemed eager to move away. It couldn’t have been easy, standing by knowing her brother was about to take on Arnir. If something went wrong, if she’d had a vision—Zylah shut the thought down before she let it take over. She squeezed Raif’s hand as he led her towards the palace doors, where musicians with stringed instruments walked through the crowds.

All citizens were allowed into the palace district, but only those with an invitation were allowed into the palace. Zylah instinctively averted her gaze from the two guards as she walked up the steps beside Raif, even though she looked nothing like the wanted posters anymore.

Two more guards stood at the other side of the steps, and Zylah knew if she turned in a slow circle, there would be pairs of guards as far along the palace façade as she could see. She was eyeing out spots she could evanesce to if needed, the most direct routes back to the district gates away from the crowds. She’d opted for sandals with a small wedge—Saphi had tried to get her into heels—but Zylah wanted to be able to move. No,to fight, if it came to it.

Raif reached into his jacket and pulled out four invitations. How he’d managed to get Rose and Saphi an invite, Zylah wasn’t sure. No doubt he’d put them down as employees of the botanical gardens.

Zylah’s mouth was as dry as sand as the guard closest to Raif took the invitations and gave them all a once-over. She stood as tall as she could beside Raif, her head barely reaching his shoulder, and looked up to meet the guard’s piercing gaze. She gave a sweet, close-lipped smile and leaned into Raif’s arm as playfully as she could.

She hoped if she faked the giddy excitement for long enough, it might wash away some of the dread.

The guard nodded to his companion at the top of the step, where another guard waited to usher them inside. They were too low down to see what lay beyond the palace doors, but music and laughter carried to them down the steps.

Zylah began listing all of the ways this night could go horribly wrong as they made their way to the open doors. She hesitated at the last step, and Raif turned back and held out a hand for her.

His smile was warm, his eyes calm and reassuring, so at odds with what he was about to do. She doubted he had any weapons under his jacket; his raw power was all he would need to take down Arnir, to obliterate the king from existence. And though that thought was reassuring, something about all of this felt off.

It had been only a few nights since she had told Raif she was staying in Virian. The start of something new. But as she took his hand and walked up the last of the steps to the open doors of the palace, it was that moment that felt like her new beginning.

Zylah took a deep breath, cast aside her worries and followed Raif into the palace.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Zylah’s stomach turned over itself as they entered the palace. Sweeping staircases of white stone wound up on either side of the doors, and in the centre sat a fountain with five white-winged carved stone horses flying over the water of the fountain. Zylah had never seen anything like it.

She paused for a moment to steady her breathing, her gaze falling on the horses’ wings. “Beautiful,” she murmured.

She took a moment to note the doors coming off of the entrance hall; three on either side, the only ones open were those ahead of them, laughter echoing against the stone from the room beyond.

“This way, please,” another guard called out over the chatter and music escaping from behind him.

Raif touched a hand lightly to her elbow and she followed, Saphi and Rose close behind them.

A waitress passed with a tray of drinks, and Zylah recognised her from the safe house. She was Fae. Raif took two glasses from her and muttered something under his breath, handing a glass to Zylah as the waitress turned back into the crowd. Behind her, Rose and Saphi had glasses of their own, and Saphi raised hers in a toast before taking a sip.

They weren’t inside, as Zylah had first thought. It was a courtyard space, and it stretched further than she could see. The palace swept around them, bordered with white pillars and trellises that were heavy with vines. Above them, orblights were strung across the open space like chandeliers.

Many of the guests wore flower crowns, men and women alike. Only they weren’t just men and women. There were Fae, everywhere. Zylah recognised them all from the different safe houses. Some were waiters, some were entertainers, some were even guards, all hidden in their deceits to fit in amongst the humans.

Humans who would have been Arnir’s most avid supporters, Zylah suspected. She didn’t like it. Any of it.

She slid a hand around Raif’s neck, easing him towards her as if beckoning him for a kiss. “Why do I feel like we’re walking into an ambush?” she murmured against his lips.

Raif threaded his fingers through her hair, tilting her head up so he had better access to her mouth, and kissed her slowly.

“Just stick to the plan,” he said quietly, biting at her lower lip before he drew back.

Zylah nodded, stepping back as a familiar scent caught her attention. It was Holt. He greeted Rose and Saphi with a kiss on the cheek each, laughing at some comment Rose made about his suit. It was midnight blue, the jacket notched at the neck with silver stitching. His hair was a little shorter, and Zylah thought he might have attempted to tame its unruliness with a comb.

“Your sun lilies are the talk of the festival,” he said to Zylah as he clasped a hand to Raif’s shoulder in greeting.

“They are?” Zylah looked around but couldn’t see them through all the people. In the centre of the courtyard was a flowerbed, but from here, all Zylah could see and smell were the Bloom florist’s roses.

Holt’s mouth twitched as she turned back to him. “They’re up with Arnir.”

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