Page 48 of Of Glass and of Gold

The air was swollen with dust and tension. The kind of tension that naturally partners with risky exchanges that have grave consequences.

“There hasn’t been an official announcement saying what the following event will be, but that’s our next best chance,” the woman who had let us in, Dee, chewed on her thumb knuckle, staring off in thought at no one in particular. “I’ve tried sending scouts to gain employment within the walls, but with the queen search going on, they’re focusing their resources on outsourcing for that instead of regular maintenance. If we had a way in…”

“I have one,” I offered, speaking before I’d truly thought it through.

Frosty gazes settling upon me chilled my skin.

“Speak,” Dee said, propping her hands on her hips.

“I’ll be attending the ball. I can make conversation with the staff under the guise of excited curiosity. Maybe they’ll know of the plans for the future events.” I glanced at Alejo, and he gave an approving grin.

“And why would they talk to you?” The flat-capped man fixed his judgmental stare on me.

“Surely the staff are buzzing with excitement over the search for a queen. They’d love to have an outside ear to gossip with. If not, I’ll bond over the fact that I hold a position similar to theirs. Serving staff stick together.” Not letting him dismiss my value, I held my chin high.

He contemplated for a moment, eyes darting between me and the woman in charge. After biting on his lips and cheek, he gave her an accepting nod.

“Be discreet about it. I want to know every single detail you hear. Confirm with multiple sources. An opportunity like this only comes around so often, we can use the busyness to our advantage.” She let her eyes soften from a harsh, scowling gaze. I could see her debating to accept me as one of their own. “What brings you here?”

Opportunity reared its head. They questioned a newcomer in their midst—understandable. Every person in this room would have meaningful reasons as to why they were here, willing to stand against the Crown. By sharing mine, I would prove that I’d blistered alongside them. Felt the pains of an oppressing hand, and reached the same conclusion they had.

“I hate the Crown. I suspect my father is dead because of them. They do nothing to aid our squalor, or care that we go missing and starve in the streets. The prince has had his opportunities to help, and he’s chosen to go against us. Now, it’s our time to go against him.” I tried not to let my rising anger rattle my vocal chords.

A combination of rage, disbelief, and honestly, fear, clawed for first place. Never had I expressed these thoughts as a collective. Sure, I’d make jabbing remarks and huff when someone brought up the prince’s name, but this was like cutting open a vein. Bleeding out all of my bitterness and resentment for everyone in this room, something that would forever stain.

This was treason of the highest order. Talk of infiltrating the castle, of eliminating the Prince of Highcrest. By even stepping into this place, I’d associated myself with these people. Yet, standing in the shadows with strangers, I could feel the embers catching. A light of hope dawning over the horizon.

I didn’t have to clean up my crimson mess, or make excuses for it. These were injured souls who’d also bled. I didn’t know their details, but I didn’t need to.

Scrutinizing eyes softened to show understanding. Even the flat-capped man flashed something like agreement at my admission.

The musky storage room air suddenly became easier to breathe. Almost as if cosmic intervention supported us here, it felt like the tides were shifting direction, the possibility of history being changed by plans made in this very room. Hope for real change.

If the Crown couldn’t adequately take care of its people, we needed to tear it all down.

A vision of my future most likely held homelessness, battling hunger, and begging. An early death would be a mercy, especially if it forever changed the fate of Highcrest.

Whether I would get caught or not, this was worth dying for, and I stood amongst others who were willing to share the punishment in order to get the reward.

24

Nora

Light from the moon and stars rained down upon a sleepy South Harbor, but I kept myself in spaces it did not touch. Earlier I’d strolled along the strip, on my way home from the meeting with the Citadels, the name they’d given their group. Just as Odion had said, all the shops had closed, leaving the lane toward the docks feeling barren when there should have been at least some activity.

Even now, the whistling wind felt hollow.

Singe marks were still apparent in the middle of the path, despite a full day of traffic. I recalled the heat of the flames, how in the dead of night the walls and booths around me were lit in a display of magical, fiery glory.

How I bore no hesitation attacking that kidnapping prick when Sverik and Sharla were in danger.

How Chol appeared as if he’d apparated right beside me when I’d needed him most. How he’d taken on two assailants at once. Show-off.

The way he heeded my command to rescue Sverik instead of treating me like a damsel in need of saving.

As I stared at the spot of victory against the filth that plagued our town, a thought crept its way across my mind. Why was there no increased guard patrol? Surely, the burnt skeletal remains of multiple men would warrant investigation. Though, if I dug a tiny bit deeper than surface level, I could assume they cleaned the crime scene, put in minimal effort, and went about their day.

While I thought it was badass that we’d eliminated some of those bastards, we’d left that interaction with no new leads. If luck wanted to make her debut in South Harbor, she might let that group of four be the last we’d see.

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