Page 113 of House of Dusk
Was?A chill raced over Yeneris.
“But thanks to your work here, we’ve become aware of another opportunity to ensure the renewal of our homeland. A secondary mission, if you like.”
She didnotlike. In fact, her belly was already knotting itself in anticipation.
“What mission?”
Mikat gave her a slice of a smile. “Something that will shame Hierax still further. And gain a powerful tool for our people. He stole our kore. Now we will steal the source ofhispower.”
“What?” asked Yeneris.
“Not what,” said Mikat, triumphantly. “Who.”
Oh, no. Fates, not this. But Mikat continued on, unstoppable as a prophet in the grip of the Fates. “The Sibyl of Tears.”
• • •
In the end, it was easy.
Yeneris understood, the moment Mikat told her that she was to kidnap Sinoe, that there was truly only one choice. Her heart was not divided. And it filled her with a strange, serene surety.
The kiss was not a ruse. It had meant something. It had meant everything. And not just to Yeneris. It was only her own fears that had made her doubt. Because she’d been afraid of this very thing. Of having to choose between her mission and her heart.
She was no longer afraid. Her feet felt light. Her heart, too. All of her was lifting, billowed by the thrum of hope and expectation. Her quick steps carried her up to the door of Sinoe’s chambers. There was a guard outside, the one who had taken the post while Yeneris had her hour of freedom.
“You can go,” she told him, breezing past.
The door thumped closed. Yeneris crossed the outer chamber in a rush, flung herself through the inner door. It was as if her body were an arrow, driven by the bowstring of her nerves. There she was. Sinoe, seated cross-legged on her bed, with a heap of pillows piled behind her and a scroll open in her lap. The same scroll she’d purchased during their second outing to the city.
Yeneris remembered the arch of Sinoe’s brow as she said,That sounds like a challenge.She flushed at the memory, but it was not shame.
“Yen!” Both Sinoe’s brows arched this time, and her eyes went wide as Yeneris stalked across the room and reached for her. The scroll fell, rolling away across the carpet. Sinoe’s lips parted. “Yen?”
“It meant something. That kiss was real.”
The princess stared at her. The words had sounded so strong and certain in Yeneris’s mind, had even felt strong and certain on her tongue. But the longer they hung unanswered, the more they began to sound like a question.
Then Sinoe made a noise. Not a laugh. Not a sob. “Oh. Yen.” Her lips trembled, as if she wanted to say more, but she only lifted a hand, pressing it to Yeneris’s cheek. “Or course it was real. But if you don’t believe me, you’re quite welcome to—oomph!”
Her kiss silenced the princess, but Sinoe didn’t seem to mind. Her hand slid back, threading into the tight mass of Yeneris’s hair, spilling tendrils from her ponytail. A single kiss, or a dozen, threaded together like bright amber beads, each one perfect in itself, but together, something priceless, something that Yeneris could carry with her all her days, no matter what came of this.
It might have become a hundred, or a thousand, except for a faint scuff that suddenly sent Yeneris’s nerves tingling for an entirely different reason. A sharp rap came from the outer door. Then the urgent voice of Prince Ichos. “Noe, it’s me. I need to see you.”
Yeneris wrenched herself away from Sinoe. It was agonizing, but it would be far more agonizing to be flayed alive by Sinoe’s brother for taking liberties with the royal person. Even if Sinoe had most definitely been enjoying those liberties.
Not that anyone would know, to look at her. Yeneris’s chest went tight with admiration, watching Sinoe do something quick and clever to settle her gown back into neat folds, tucking back a loose curl of hair. “Ichos? Is that you?” she sang out. Then lower, for Yeneris alone, “Don’t worry. He won’t be a problem.”
Yeneris wasn’t so sure about that. Ichos loved his sister, yes. She’d seen that. But what had Sinoe called him? Scorpion mare.He hates Father, but he will never turn against him.
“Of course it’s me. What are you doing in there?”
Sinoe reached out, brushing one thumb across the corner of Yeneris’s mouth, then flashed a wicked grin, showing the smear of lip paint that had come away on her finger. She turned and breezed over to the door to admit her brother.
Yeneris stood with her back to the wall, observing the greeting. The prince’s clothing was travel-stained, his ruddy hair damp and coiled. A large purple bruise colored one cheek, though she judged it several days old. He must have only just returned from his mission. And come straight to his sister.
Sinoe flung herself into his arms. “You’re back! But even grouchier than usual. Did you forget what I told you?”
“You told me to duck when I entered a cave,” he replied sourly. “You didn’t say it was because some fire-witch was going to throw a sword at me.”
