I make my way out of the palace, trying to shake off the buzzing under my skin, half relief, half something else. I can’t let him unsettle me. Sure, his sweetness with his father made me sympathize, but he doesn’t deserve my sympathy. I can’t afford it.
My feet take me toward an archway limned by sunlight, and I find myself before a palace garden enclosed by a courtyard, rather than the palace entrance I’d been aiming for. It isn’t much of a garden from my angle; a tall wall of leaves and thorns hides the rest of the garden from sight. But I get a hint of what lies beyond as a cool breeze lifts my hair off the back of my neck, enfolding me in the aroma of honeysuckle and nectar. It’s the same heady fragrance I smelled on Dalca.
What grows inside? Food? Or frivolous things, like flowers that never turn to fruit? Anything could grow here; my hands tingle with the urge to try. I breathe in the scent, growing dizzy with it. How much time does Dalca spend here, that he smells of it?
A shock of pale hair startles me out of my thoughts. Casvian stridesout of a shadowed opening in the hedge, shooting a furtive look over his shoulder.
I duck back as Casvian kicks the dirt, sighs, then heads off.
Gravel crunches underfoot as I tiptoe closer. The arched opening in the hedge reveals only several feet of a winding path penned in by walls of flowering bushes. The wind purrs through the leaves, blowing past me.
My feet itch to go discover what’s inside. It must be something important—I’d wager my last coin that Casvian Haveli has never stopped to smell a flower.
But if Casvian finds me gone, with the room a mess, I’m done for.
I hurry out of the palace—no guard stops me on the way out—and speed through the second. I spot the Ven as the last hint of sunset fades from the circle of sky.
No one questions me as I hurry back to the room. I hold my breath as I open the door.
Cracks spiderweb across the substance, now faded to a dull gray. I poke at it with my toe, and it flakes up easily, revealing pale stone underneath. I grab the broom and dive in.
My heart pounds. With the broom, I knock the tar off the walls and sweep it all into a big pile. Fear makes me quick. I glance up every time I hear footsteps, but no Cas. Not yet.
Prying the stuff from the windows and the desk takes a good fifteen minutes. Shoving the flakes into three bags and hauling them to a trash bin takes another five. I dash back to the room and go over every corner.
It’s clean.
I slump onto the chair, leaning my forehead onto the surface of thedesk. As the panic recedes, my thoughts quicken. My face burns. I can’t believe I let Dalca get to me. I underestimated him; I underestimated what his presence would do to me.
He knows I’m from the fifth. And after everything I said about Amma’s, how long before he pieces it all together?
I wrap my arms around me. I believe him about the fire. I wish I didn’t. I wish I could hate him with no reservations. I wish I didn’t know that he’s sweet to his father. I wish I didn’t know that his eyes aren’t pure blue, that there’s the slimmest ring of silver around the dark of his pupils.
But even if he didn’t light the fire himself, he didn’t stop it from happening. Even if he dreams of saving our city, he’s letting the fifth suffer right now.
And he took Pa from me.
To let myself be distracted—am I really that silly? He’s not even that handsome. Am I really that weak? But if I am, so is he. There was a moment where he couldn’t look away from me.
I can use that.
A sigh. “Damn.”
I shoot up out of the chair, and it topples over.
Casvian stands in the doorway, regards the chair with one raised brow. I swoop down and set it right.
I throw my hands wide. “It’s clean.”
Casvian rolls his eyes and strides away.
I run after him. “Tomorrow, at dawn?”
He raises a hand without looking back.