Page 72 of The Dawn of the Cursed Queen

I didn’t glance his way, but I felt his eyes on me, watching me. That bit of truth slipped between us.

“Me too.”

My eyes turned to him then at that admission. I gave him a small smile. “At least talking to you makes it less horrible,” I said, feeling my cheeks flush.

He nodded, but I saw his pain as if it hurt him to admit that. I wondered why. “Fine, you win. Kind of friends then.”

I smiled, leaning forward and grabbing one of the small triangular sandwiches. “Oh my gods, I am so glad this is not that stupid soup,” I murmured while taking a bite. I moaned at the taste. It was so much fucking better.

“Tell me the name of the next guard that brings you soup.”

“Okay.” I snickered before I swallowed. “How long can we stay up here?”

“I’m not sure.”

I looked around, just breathing in the fresh air. “I’d like to stay up here for a while, if that’s okay? Pretend the world is okay.”

His eyes followed mine. “Me too.”

We ate, speaking in between bites like we had on the remains of Rashearim, talking about everything and nothing. Not once did he bring up The Hand or Samkiel. I knew those demons raked at him, leaving him bloody and raw, so I didn’t press. After we were done, he took us back to the palace, dropping me off at my workstation. I turned as he went to leave.

“Can we go back tomorrow?” I asked, pointing up.

A simple nod was all I got before he disappeared into a sea of armor.

TWENTY-SIX

CAMERON

The boat rocked to the side as it stalled near the dock. The captain waved me forward. I placed a handful of gold coins in his hand, and he gasped.

“Keep it.” I waved him away and jumped off.

River Bend smelled exactly how I thought it would, a blend of sweat from working in the sun and fish, a shit ton of fish. I moved past a few workers and fishermen, heading toward the main boardwalk. A handful of shops were open, their barkers screaming about prices or sales as I made my way through the crowd. I adjusted the front of my shirt as I spotted a small shop selling handmade bracelets. I pretended to shop, tilting my head a fraction higher, letting the scents and sounds wash over me.

The smell of cooking meats hit me first, followed closely by the scent of the river, then sweat and the musk of trash and piss. I closed my eyes, pretending to rub them as I concentrated harder. My eyes snapped open when I caught the tiniest aroma of cinnamon. Choosing a small pink bracelet, I slipped it onto my wrist and placed another gold coin on the rack. I thanked the woman selling them, picked out the thread of that scent, and began tracking that smell. It led me past rows of shops and stalls selling everything from fruits to weapons. I stopped abruptly before a woman selling small purple fruits. There was the faintest scent in the center where one was missing.

“Would you like one?”

My head tipped, and I inhaled deeply again until I could almost taste that scent. Excitement shivered through me. I was almost positive I was right. Maybe my search was coming to an end. “Have you sold a lot today?”

She shook her head. “No. Someone stole one, and then the city was frenzied for a while. People just slowly started coming out of their homes again.”

“Frenzied?” I asked.

She nodded. “A woman with fire on her hands ran through the streets earlier.”

“She did?” My interest piqued. “Where did she go?”

The vendor pointed behind me. “She ran that way, down the back alleys.”

I handed her a few coins and stepped away. She called her thanks and insisted I take some fruit, but I ignored her, heading toward the alleyways. Her scent hit me as I turned the corner. I followed it past another line of sellers until I ended up staring down a dead-end alley. My eyes were drawn to a perfectly round, burned smudge on the back wall.

I hadn’t realized I’d moved until my fingers rubbed across the dark spot. My heart thumped once, twice, with a loud, thunderous beat as my eyes burned. I didn’t smell anyone else here, just her and the lingering smell of smoke from that burned spot. I wondered if she had taken her anger out over something, or was she just broken without Samkiel? I dropped my hand to my side, sadness gripping my throat in a vise grip as I remembered the last time we were all together at that dinner party. How we’d laughed and joked and how it was over. It was all now burned to ash. Nothing but smudges of memory like the spot on the wall.

“Are you looking for the dark-haired one?”

I turned to see a small woman standing at the end of the alleyway. She carried a bunch of rags and clothes on her hip.

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