Page 69 of The Scarlet Star

Heva threw a pauldron at Ryn before she was ready. It flew past and smacked off the bedpost, sending a loud ringing sound through the room.

The door tore open, and Matthias rushed in. “What happened?” he asked, and Heva grinned.

“Nothing, Priest. Just stay outside and make sureno onecomes in for the next hour,” she said.

Ryn stifled a moan and rolled her shoulder as she headed through the winding halls toward the Abandoned Temple. The whole palace smelled of baking ginger cookies. Whispering servants claimed they were for a traditional celebration relating to the royal family, but Ryn knew nothing about it.

She passed a domed window feature, and the late afternoon sun burned against the glass, momentarily blinding her as she moved into the next hall, squinting and rubbing her eyes. Not even a torch was lit to warn her what was waiting on the other side.

She walked into someone leaning against the wall. “Sorry—”

Hands took her waist, lifting her and placing her on her feet with her back against the stone in exactly the spot where the person had been standing. A dark silhouette blotted out theorange sun in the dome, and Ryn froze, blinking rapidly when her eyes didn’t adjust.

“You should watch where you’re going.”

Xerxes’s voice.

Ryn realized she’d grabbed his sleeves like she’d been ready to toss him aside and run for her life. She wondered what she was so afraid of, but she shook her head when it occurred to her she’d imagined an Intelligentsia hood, thin purple lips, and dark eyes.

She glanced up, able to make out Xerxes’s features now. She was still squeezing the life out of his sleeves. He looked irritated about it.

Ryn dropped her hands. “Sorry,” she rasped again. She inhaled quickly and let it out just as fast. His face didn’t change from its frown, his pulled-together brows, his hard jaw. A strange coldness drifted from him, encompassing her like she’d stumbled into a dark cellar.

He didn’t speak for several more seconds, and she couldn’t take it. “Is this about Damon?” she asked.

He blinked. A few times. “What about Damon?” His expression morphed into an odd mix of things she couldn’t interpret anymore.

“Well, he and I…” It occurred to Ryn that Xerxes really might not have seen anything in the atrium. “Nothing,” she said, waving a hand between them.

Xerxes was quiet for a moment, but after several more seconds of hard staring, he drew away and let out a huff. He put his hands on his hips and began to pace. “I’m angry, Ryn,” he said. When he turned around to wander back, his eyes were closed, a crease on his forehead. “You shouldn’t be here.”

She noticed his collar was scuffed, his royal coat was undone, his boots were only half laced. She hadn’t been able to tell before in the darkness, but now that she could see him, he looked a little bit… monstrous.

“Why are you angry?” she dared to ask.

“Because everyone lies to me,” he said. “I can’t trust the people here. I can’t stand liars.”

Ryn closed her mouth. When would Xerxes figure out that a liar stood right in front of him?

“Do you want me to leave?” she asked in a small voice.

Xerxes took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Honestly? No,” he said. He folded his arms and settled his miserable, pointed gaze on her again.

Ryn swallowed. “What do you want to do, then?” she asked.

He didn’t avert his stare. “I just want to look at you, Maiden. To prove to myself that you’re real and not a figment of my delusions. Because if you’re real, there might be an end to this torment soon, and all I have to do is hang on a little longer.” Ryn’s heart squeezed. She’d been so distracted by everything; she’d momentarily forgotten that he’d begged her for help. “But most of all,” he went on, “I want to go steal those cursed cookies.” He unfolded his arms and resumed his pacing.

Ryn thought he was joking, but his frown didn’t waver. He glared in the direction of the kitchens where the smell of baking came from. And Ryn couldn’t stop herself—she laughed.

He tore his gaze back to her again, a look of shock etched over his features. He watched as she slid down the wall a few inches, losing her balance. As she slapped a hand over her mouth to quiet herself.

“How many?” she finally asked when she could speak. “How many cookies do you want to steal, I mean?”

Xerxes bit his lips together. The shadow of a smirk found his mouth. The ominous glaze had left his face—In fact, there was a twinkle in his eye when he leaned toward her and whispered, “All of them.”

It wasn’t easy to sneak into the kitchen without anyone noticing, but the hardest part was rolling out two carts piled with baskets of cookies before the guards did their rounds or the kitchen staff emerged from the break room. Only three baskets remained inside the kitchen, and Xerxes and Ryn risked the journey back in to get them.

They bumped into each other on the way out, and Xerxes dropped a basket to the floor. Two dozen cookies shattered and bounced away, and he looked up at Ryn with wide eyes. “Run,” he whispered. He grabbed her hand and tugged her out the swinging doors just as the staff door screeched open across the kitchen.

---