Page 63 of A Reign of Storm and Madness

Maeryn gives me a nod and then tilts her head to the side, curiously, as if finally realizing that it seems unlikely of me to come here and risk being caught and questioned all to ask her to look after my friend. “What else are you here for, Kiera?” she asks a moment later, confirming my suspicion.

Locking eyes with the stunning jade color in hers, I take a step further into the room. She moves away from the cart, the two of us striding in sync, circling each other until we’re near the edge of her bed. “I might need a favor,” I tell her.

She tilts her head in the opposite direction. “Is it about healing?” she asks.

I nod. Though I can’t be sure, Regis’ sudden departure from Riviere has me concerned. With Carcel on the way here, Regis wouldn’t normally take on extra jobs. The fact that he has can only mean one thing—it has something to do with his missing brother, Grell.

Even after nearly ten years, Regis’ dedication to finding his brother remains as strong as it was the day I’d met him. But if he had, then there would no doubt be things that even my Divine blood couldn’t help Regis’ brother with. Grell, if he’s still alive, will no doubt need an experienced healer, and if I was right then a Divine healer like Maeryn might be able to do more than heal external wounds, but potentially emotional ones as well.

Both Regis and I know what kind of deviant and cruel things the Gods do with their toys. Perhaps it would have been better, merciful even, if Regis’ brother died a long time ago rather than live through it all. Under the constant thumb of some wicked God who liked to break already too-breakable humans for pleasure.

“If I need your healing,” I begin slowly. “What would it cost for your silence?”

Green eyes speckled with light flecks of gold and brown deep within their pools of emerald glimmer in almost—I pause—no, that can’t be hurt, can it? Maeryn blinks and the emotion, whatever it is, disappears instantly.

“My silence can’t be bought,” Maeryn states coolly.

“If it’s denza—” I have enough, hopefully. Surely even Mortal Gods have use for the coin, but Maeryn holds up her hand once more, halting my words.

“Like I said,” she levels me with a hard look, “my silence can’t be bought. It’s earned.”

A kernel of respect swells in my chest. Even if I had a good defense to her statement, I’d swallow it in this moment. I nod, understanding. “I see,” I say simply because I have no idea what else can be said.

“I will keep a look out on Niall regardless of what you do, though,” Maeryn says quickly as I turn to go. “My friendship with him does not affect you just as his with you doesn’t affect me.”

I pause just before I reach the door and turn back, glancing at her over my shoulder. My lips part and before I can think better of the words coming out of my mouth, they are already there. “I think in another life we would have been good friends, Maeryn.” Perhaps if my mother had reported my existence, we would be more than good friends, but the best of friends. Living together in these very buildings that now feel like a prison to me.

Maeryn’s attitude on the training grounds reminds me, then, though, that they are a prison to more than just me. Not every Mortal God thinks that they shit gold here. Some recognize the precarious position they’re all in. They might be treated better, but at the end of the day, we’re all carrying around the invisible shackles the Gods have placed on us.

I pivot back to the door and turn the handle, sneaking a look up and down the hall to make sure the coast is clear before I slip out. Hopefully, whatever Regis’ immediacy is about, I won’t need to come back for Maeryn. I don’t know yet what will earn her silence and I’m not sure if I can chance another in this Gods forsaken place learning of the truth.

Chapter 33

Kiera

The rest of the week passes by rather quickly. I’m hoping that when I see Regis again, I’ll perhaps gain more information on the details of this damned mission that brought me to the Mortal Gods Academy of Riviere to begin with. My boots crunch the snow that fell overnight under my foot, and I pause to glance up at the darkening clouds.

It’s been well over a month now since the last update and I’m more convinced than ever this was one of Ophelia’s tests. Surely, by now she’ll have convinced herself that I can be trusted. The loss of the two million denza sits heavy in my stomach despite everything. Even I hadn’t been aware of just how much hope I’d had for this job, for what it could do for me.

Now, I don’t know what to believe anymore.

What little optimism had remained after a decade in service to the Underworld is dying a slow, painful death. I want to see Ophelia again, to demand the reason she would do this to me. Dangling a carrot in front of my face and pretending as if my goal was near is something the Gods would do, not Ophelia. And yet, if I find out that my suspicions are, in fact, true—I sense no surprise.

I start moving again, catching sight of a familiar head of dark hair and a straight back. Ruen. Just the man I wanted to see. He’s alone, and since receiving Regis’ letter, I haven’t had a chance to tell him that I’ll need his services this weekend—two days from now, in fact.

“Master Ruen!” I call out when it appears that he’s about to slip around the corner. I huff a breath as he stiffens and turns back, eyebrows rising to find me trailing after him. He turns entirely, eyes darkening as I approach. Still as cold as ever. That’s just fine by me, though, so long as he keeps up his end of our little bargain.

“Kiera.” He nods down to me as I come to a stop in front of him, panting slightly. His gaze travels down to the not-uniform I’m wearing. His lips turn down at the edges, but the rest of his face remains placid and expressionless as he speaks. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you wearing a gown before.”

I withhold a grimace. Yes, the true reason for my breathlessness. Although I don’t mind gowns and dresses as a whole—they are warm enough with all their layers—walking around in them and even fighting in them is particularly difficult. How a few had been placed in my room as the tunics and trousers I preferred slowly disappeared, I had no idea. I had a sneaking suspicion, though, that a certain Darkhaven was behind the sudden disappearances.

Dauphine hadn’t even questioned me when I’d gone to her this morning and requested more uniforms. Perhaps she had expected that my things would be stolen eventually. I look down at the dark woolen dress that reminds me of the blanket I’d been given upon arrival. It’s thankfully not fancy, but a solid brown that makes any mud splatters on the skirts easy to hide. I’d still prefer trousers, but it’s better than going around naked.

“My uniforms are missing,” I tell Ruen without another thought.

Midnight eyes sharpen. “Missing?” he repeats.

I wave my hand dismissively. Discussing my attire is not why I stopped him. “It doesn’t matter,” I say. “I’ve already informed the head Terra and she’s ordering new ones for me. This—” I gesture down to the heavy mass of skirts. “Was all I had left. It’ll do until I get more trousers.”

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