Page 26 of Vilest Things
“Oh, goodness.”
Otta draws to a halt.
But because these are the circumstances he has been given, he turns to get August’s face out of his view. The clock is only counting down until one of them remains.
“So, the gala is proceeding,” Otta says. Though she pivots, her eyes are still on Anton’s body upon the bed. “The council doesn’t think it necessary to call it off. An internal palace event won’t be affected by a lockdown, anyhow.”
“The council would do anything to avoid the appearance of conflict.” Anton pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to lessen the tension in his head. August barely has any space up on his thin, delicate nose. It’s near-impossible just to pad two fingers down on both sides.
“Including keep all of Kasa’s secrets.”
“Indeed.”Didyouknow?Anton wants to add.When Kasa killed my parents, did the Avias hear about it over dinner one night? Did you keep the unthinkable from me, caring just as little about the matter as August did?
Soundlessly, Otta slinks up to his side. Her hands run along his shoulders before she presses a cold touch to his neck. He doesn’t trust Otta. He doesn’t know anything about her intentions upon waking except that scheming is in her nature, that maneuvering her way into importance is as instinctive to her as breathing. All the same, he relaxes into her without thinking—he exhales fullyfor the first time in weeks. Anton feels young with her, responsible for nothing except the assignments he needs to hand in at the academy. He feels as though it doesn’t matter that he has no family in this kingdom, because he has her, and she needs him.
“August,” Otta says. Her voice is soft. “Why did you ask about the Makusas in the meeting room?”
Anton freezes. His instinct is to cover his tracks with anger, spout out some disparaging remark he would expect August to say. Then his eyes drift to himself on the bed, and there is little he can feign when this evidence lies before them. He wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t care to know.
“Don’t you miss him?” he returns gently. It’s a careful line to walk. He hasn’t a clue how August and Otta left off with each other before Otta fell ill. “I do.”
Otta touches his ear. “You’ve never shown it, to tell the truth.”
“He was my best friend.”
“You thought he was weak. You said if his parents hadn’t died, he never would have learned to jump, because his only motivation was anger and loneliness.”
It takes everything not to react. Anton’s neck flushes slowly, reddening with every new word.Weak.August thought him weak because his parents were murdered, their bodies shredded to such a state that the funeral proceedings were forced to cremate them ahead of time, leaving nothing but a canister of ash to mourn.
“In fact…,” Otta goes on, pulling away and drifting across the room. She taps a finger to her chin. “It was you who always warned me not to be with him. You said he would discard me eventually, once the wind changed direction. People like him only know how to run.”
Anton snaps. He doesn’t know what he means to do as he marches forward. His arm outstretches, reaching for Otta, and she pivots so fast to face him that her skirts swirl in a frenzy of reds and golds.
“Don’t say anything,” she hisses, and her demeanor changes entirely.
Oh, Otta. How I have underestimated you.
“I wasn’t going to,” Anton replies. His arm returns to his side. He smooths down his jacket. It is a performance, but no longer for the girl in front of him.
Otta tilts her head toward the door.
“They’ve put new cameras here. Let’s go elsewhere.”
In the surveillance room, Matiyu Nuwa taps through the palace feed, idly keeping an eye out for Leida Miliu. He doubts that the former captain of the guard would be so stupid as to get caught on camera, so he isn’t taking the task seriously, even though the entirety of surveillance was put on the task. One of the Weisannas will find her soon, surely. It’s not as though Leida can hide for long when the exits are sealed and the guards are sweeping through each wing.
His cubicle phone rings. He brings it to his ear, throwing the long handset cord over his shoulder. “Hello?”
“Matiyu. A favor, possibly?”
Matiyu frowns at the voice. He recognizes it instantly. “How did you get this number?”
“Anyone can call the palace and request to be put through. I said I was your sister. The Weisannas aren’t going to screen me for a phone call.”
They should. Taking people for their word seems like bad security practice.
“I won’t lie, Woya: I thought you were dead.”
“Nonsense,” Woya says, offended. “I’m in charge of the Hollow Temple again, I’ll have you know. Our time under Pampi Magnes was a temporary hiccup.”
