Page 152 of Brimstone
Cahlish was a huge place, full of hidden, secret corners. I’d spent days exploring when Fisher had left me here after I’d been attacked by the feeder in the dining room, but there were still entire wings of the estate I hadn’t investigated. Rooms I hadn’t set foot inside.
This was one such room.
The south drawing room, Archer called it. A bank of tall windows overlooked a rose garden shrouded in white. The buds on the thorny bushes were all open despite the cold, and a sea of velveteen blooms swayed on the other side of the glass, their petals dark as blood and dusted with snow.
A tufted armchair sat before a crackling fire. Gilt-framed portraits hung on the walls. A writing desk had been positioned in the window, as if whoever had penned their correspondence there had liked to look out over the garden while they contemplated their words. That was where Hayden stood, on the other side of the writing desk, looking out the window with his hands in his pockets.
The door creaked as I entered the room, startling him. He turned, his blond curls just as crazy as ever, his face deeply tanned, lips cracked. His eyes widened when he saw me. He didn’t speak. I’d imagined this scene in my head so many times since I’d come to Yvelia, but now that Hayden was here and it was happening, none of the scenarios I had anticipated wascoming to fruition. My brother didn’t look pleased to be here with me. He lookedscared.
“It’s true, then. He didn’t kill you—that gigantic asshole with the pointed ears.”
I lowered my head, unsure whether to smile at that or not. “No. He did not.”
“Where is he, then?”
“His name is Kingfisher. And he’s gone to fetch one of our friends. He was supposed to bring him back to Cahlish yesterday, but . . . something came up.”
Archer, in the courtyard, leaping to my defense.
Archer, nearly dying to save me.
I blinked away the memories of his brimstone jetting from his throat.
Hayden huffed. Stepping away from the window, he crossed the room and stood in front of me, looking me up and down. The bridge of his nose was dotted with freckles.
Pacing around me in a slow circle, he performed a full inspection of me; his shoulders tensed when he caught sight of my ears poking through my loose hair, but he made no comment on them. At last, he came to a stop, facing me with his hands still shoved into his pockets.
“You look well,” he said stiffly. “Healthy. Carrion told me you’d changed.” He frowned, his eyes growing distant. “He said you’d become something different. Like him,” he said in a small voice. “I understand now.”
“Doyou?”
He nodded. “Madra, she’s been telling everyone that you’re dead. Murdered by Fae rebels. She gave a very convincing speech.”
“I’ll bet she did.”
“She’s painting you as a martyr to her cause. Using your name and your story. Twisting everything, making you soundlike some kind of Zilvaren patriot who loved her city. She said you were working for her, a loyal subject, violently killed by strangers wielding outlawed magic.”
“And people arebelievingher?”
Hayden shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s hard to tell. Madra’s always said strange things about the Fae. Especially around this time of year, with the Evenlight Festival right on top of us.”
“I don’t mean about theFae, Hayden. I mean aboutme. That I was working for her. That I was a loyal Zilvaren subject!” The very idea of it was preposterous. Madra had told some lies in her time, but this one was the most galling. My whole life, I’d railed against her rule. I’d done whatever I could to cause dissent and mayhem for her house without getting myself killed, and now she was spreading rumors that I had beenworkingfor her all along? Working for her meant spying on my neighbors. It meant whispering secrets in her ear that weren’t meant to be shared. It meant that I was a traitor and a liar, and I had betrayed my friends.
Hayden wouldn’t meet my eyes. “She gave the whole city extra food rations and a triple water supply to honor you. For your service to the crown.”
“What?”
“The people of the Third wouldn’t accept it. They poured their canteens out in the street. They gave their bread to the crows. They cursed you as they did it.”
That fuckingbitch.
I didn’t want to be a hero to my people. I didn’t care if they never knew my name. Anything I had done to aid Zilvaren’s rebels had been in secret and in silence. I’d never needed to draw attention to myself. I sure as hell didn’t need a clap on the back from anyone in recognition of my “good deeds.” But the idea that the people of the Third,mypeople, were cursing my name andrefusing extra water inprotestof me? Fuck me. I was going to throw up.
“I need to go back. I need to set them straight. All my contacts across the city—”
“Don’t bother, Saeris.” Hayden looked at me now, and the cold hard truth I found on his face was a blow I could never have expected. “They don’t want you.”
“But surely, Elroy—”
