Page 57 of Embrace the Serpent

His cheeks reddened. “I’ve expended a lot of energy savingsomeone. At full power, I’m better than Rane.”

I shrugged. “It’s okay to admit you’re not very good at something.”

I knew I shouldn’t bait him. He could snap my neck at any moment, and he seemed to be irritated enough to want to.

“Come here,” he said. “I’ll put one on you.”

He moved as fast as a cobra and that telltale warmth trickled from my crown down my skin to my toes.

I opened my mouth, and he hushed me. “Remember, speak no truths. Or perhaps, speak not at all.”

We made our way on foot into Copperton, entering through an open-air bazaar. Mothers hurried their children along, sellers shuttered their market stalls, and a whisper worked its way through the market.They’re coming.

They gave the Serpent King a wide berth, on account of his Imperial uniform. I followed a few paces behind, as a glance down told me I appeared to be a large-footed woman with spidery hands, and I didn’t quite know what that meant. Thankfully, gazes slid over my face without pause, so however peculiar I might’ve looked, I was still unremarkable.

The way up the hill to the palace of Prince Adi—which was now better known as the Copper Manor, home to the Lord and Lady Copper—was busy with servants hurrying to set things right. Apair of women swept the road, while another pair trimmed the orange trees that lined the street, their trimmings falling onto the freshly swept road. I skirted around the sweepers as they shouted at the tree trimmers.

A low gate let into a bustling courtyard, and the Serpent King paused. Without looking at me, he murmured, “We meet after one hour, regardless of if we fail or succeed.”

He strode into the courtyard, glancing at the stables, then the guardhouse, and then disappeared around the corner. He’d look for the cellars, the dungeons, the jails.

I waited for a group of maids to cross the courtyard and trailed after them. They chattered excitedly about the Imperial soldiers that were soon to arrive. Apparently, they found the uniforms dashing.

Inside the manor, I split from them. My instructions were to not get myself in trouble and, secondarily, to search for a sign of the huntsmen. But since the Serpent King had assigned himself all the likeliest spots, I intended to do no more than make a careful, quick circuit and get out.

“You, girl.” A matronly voice came from behind me.

I met the gaze of a woman whose hair was in a severe bun, a large set of keys on a sash at her waist. A housekeeper.

“What’s your name?” the housekeeper asked. Her brows pinched as she looked me up and down. What on earth did I look like?

A lie. I needed a lie to keep the illusion on, but I suddenly couldn’t remember a single name. My pocket wiggled, and weakly, I said, “Grim... elda. Grimelda.”

The housekeeper cocked an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

Was I sure? If I said yes, did that mean I was sure that I was Grimelda—which would be a lie, and therefore safe—or did it mean I was sure I meant to say Grimelda—which might count as a truth and break the illusion? To be safe, I said, “I... am... Grimelda.”

“Is that all you can say?”

I swallowed around the knot in my throat. If I said no, that would be the truth, right? The only safe answer was: “Yes.”

“Yes?” the housekeeper repeated.

Oh gods. The housekeeper thought I was an idiot. I went on weakly, “I mean, I was hired this morning. I’m supposed to, uh, stoke the fire.”

“Devaul’s cousin, eh?” The housekeeper shook her head. “Fine, get on with it.”

I began to dip my head in a nod and then stopped—did nodding count? Oh, but it didn’t matter—it was a lie, I wasn’t Devaul’s cousin. But seconds had passed with me holding my neck out strangely.

I ran before the housekeeper could say anything more. She was still watching me, so I joined two maids as they scurried into the banquet hall.

A chill shook me as I stepped over the threshold, into a grand hall of such a dark gray that it was almost blue. Grimney pinched my leg, and I smothered my yelp and pressed a hand to the lump in my dress. My hand—it looked like my real hand. The illusion was gone.

The floor was tiled with it, the walls were made of it. I had to get out of here. The ceiling was lead-gray, the fireplace was gray. The Serpent King’s story about Prince Adi’s lead-lined banquet hall—it was true.

I sucked in a breath.

The huntsmen. They were kneeling in a line on the far wall, hands tied behind their backs, most still armored and helmed. They were sitting docile, each flanked by two Imperial Guards. The two unhelmed ones bore bruises and a spattering of blood. Neither of them was Rane.

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