Page 18 of Kingdom of Crowns and Daggers

Chapter

Eleven

ALYX

As I stuff the clothing into my leather bag, my face twists in fury. Turning, I grab my leather satchel, filled with my lockpicks, and then slam them into the bag.

Crux and I fight all the time, our tempers are too similar, but we make up fairly quickly.

Not this time, though, because he went too far. I cannot believe he wouldn’t only doubt me and my skills, but also try to forbid me from going like he owns me.

Snarling, I hurry around my room, shoving everything into the bag, and with an annoyed hiss, I attempt to buckle it up. It gets caught halfway. “Fucking bag,” I growl, ripping up the buckles before I lay my hands on the bulging top and close my eyes.

I need to be calm, to be smart, and not let my anger get the best of me.

I’m heading to the palace, a place of perfection and games, so I must have my head on straight. I slow my breathing, focusing on my measured inhales and exhales to calm my racing heart. It’s what I used to do before a hunt, a habit that comes in handy now. When I open my eyes once more, part of me expects Crux to be there, but he isn’t, and I ignore the twinge of disappointment that moves through me.

Throwing the bag over my shoulder, I look around, not knowing if or when I will ever come back here. Even if I survive this mission, will my place still be here?

I blow the candle out, plunging the room and my past into darkness, and then I take a step outside, followed by another and another, until I find myself before the stairs that lead to a grate to the Lowers. Everyone else is asleep or hunting at this hour, our hideout empty, yet with my hand on the railing, I look back, expecting Crux to be there to make this right.

He isn’t, so I turn away and force myself not to look back again. Despite the years we have spent together and our friendship, I will not ruin this chance at gaining revenge. If he cannot support me, then so be it.

I don’t need him. I don’t need anyone.

I pull the lever for the grate harder than I need to and watch it roll away before stepping out into the early morning darkness. I kick the outside hidden lever until the grate covers the hole again, unwilling to look back at the tunnels that have been my life and home since that fateful night.

Instead, I pull up my hood and face covering to conceal myself. Blending with the shadows, I hurry through the Lowers to the towering palace in the distance.

The western gate they mentioned is easy to find. It’s not often I come near the palace, even on this side of the Lowers. There are too many lights and soldiers, but at this early hour, it seems deserted. The huge stone wall separating poverty from riches is a constant reminder of where we stand—lower than the Crown.

Nestled between some rocks and trees is a deep brown wooden gate. Taking one last steadying breath, I rap my knuckles against it.

There is no going back now, not that I would even if I could.

I have made my choice, one that was set into motion many years before, when the very people I am about to investigate stole everything from me. Despite what Crux says, I know I can do this. I have to do this, and as I hear a bolt slide back and the creak of the gate opening, I step backwards.

My hand lingers over the sword at my hip, but when a familiar, shaved head peeks out, a small lantern held in his grasp, I relax and drop my hand away from my blade, allowing my cloak to fall back into place.

“Alyx?” the gravelly voice says, the sound moving through me as I pull down my face covering and smile.

“The one and only.” When he just stares, I arch an eyebrow. “Going to let me in, big guy?”

“Come on then, shorty,” he replies, opening the door wide.

For a moment, I glance back into the rundown Lowers, searching the darkness beyond for a familiar face. I know Crux wouldn’t have let me come alone. He’s out there somewhere, watching, and that gives me a little more confidence to turn forward.

“Well?” Orion prompts.

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Don’t get your armour in a twist,” I mutter as I move past him.

He hurries to shut the door, sliding the bolt into place before grabbing the lantern. “This way,” he orders. “Keep your voice down and step lightly.”

“Assassin, remember?” I reply distractedly, getting my first glimpse of the palace I will be living in.

It is huge, even from what I can see here in the dim light of the night. My booted feet sink into soft, perfectly trimmed grass. Beyond is a paved path that curves up and around, not a stone out of place. To the right is the large expanse of buildings, and I swear I hear the neighing of horses.

The moon illuminates enough to see structures but not to make out details. I glimpse lanterns hanging about, emitting low light, but not much back here.

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