Page 94 of Where Shadows Bloom

“Good morning, good morning, come this way.” She grabbed my forearm and pulled me away, off into some sort of cloakroom, with unpolished boots and riding gloves and shoes to be re-cobbled.

Eglantine shut us in the small room, lit only by the sunshine filtering through the cracks in the door.

“What in the name of the gods are you doing here?” she hissed.

“Your mother,” I said, not waiting a moment, “your mother—she should be in the Hall of Illusions. The Shadow King said she’d be there—”

“The Hall of Illusions?” She narrowed her eyes at me. “She’s in there?Alive?What do you mean?”

“I spoke to the Shadow King,” I said breathlessly. “The Hall of Illusions, it serves as a window to the Underworld. And within that window, we will find Ofelia and your mother. They arebothtrapped in the Underworld.”

She covered her mouth. “Gods, I’m a fool.”

The heartbreak in her voice startled me. “Why?”

“The king said—he said Ofelia had run off with a lover. I thought he meantyou. He’s claimed he’s so heartbroken that he won’t leave his chambers, and Ibelievedhim. It seemed like... something Ofelia would do.”

I forcefully pushed down the anger that had risen at the thought of the king tarnishing Ofelia’s name. There weremore important things at stake right now.

“That doesn’t matter.” I gripped her hands. “Thank you for getting me through the gates. Now I need to get into the Hall of Illusions.”

She furrowed her brows, deep in thought. “The palace is crawling with guards. There have been Shadows sightedinsidethe palace. Nobles are frantic; five knights have already died—it’ll be difficult to sneak in.”

Five knights. Five more needless casualties.

And, I thought coldly, five absent places.

When Guillem, the knight I’d rescued in the garden, heard I now wanted to serve as one of the king’s knights, he was relieved. He led me into a room lined with gold-plated greaves on the floor, breastplates on the wall, and swords that hung by each of them. From a table, he chose a helmet and held it up in front of my face. “Looks about the right size.”

He helped me into both legs of my greaves. It took me a moment to adjust to the weight; back at the manor, we rarely wore metal armor like this, except for the occasional breastplate. Fighting a Shadow required speed above all else, and while this heavy golden armor looked beautiful, it would slow me significantly. Next, he fit me into the breastplate and gauntlets, and after fastening them all into place, like bolting me inside some metal coffin, he placed the helm over my head. Its chin jutted out, the gap between my neck and the helm justenough that I had some empty space to breathe, as there was no mouth on the mask. I saw the world through the slits of the mask and realized that for now, no one could see the scar along my cheek. No one could recognize me. I was invisible.

Best of all, once again, I had a beautiful, shining sword at my hip.

As I made my way toward the Hall of Illusions, the palace was buzzing with activity, preparing for a fête as though nothing had changed. Servants carried vases of flowers the size of dinner plates, gilded instruments, and trays heaped with white cakes. Far down another corridor, servants’ gossip accompanied the tuning of the instruments.

It was chaos. I was nearly to the hall now, but how could I sneak in with so many witnesses?

The door at the end of the hall opened, and the king emerged, clothed in blinding white with a long fur cape trailing behind him. Two young women in white dresses carried the train of his cloak, their gazes lowered and their cheeks rosy. I stepped quickly to the side of the hallway, standing at attention.

Another soldier on the other side of the hall saluted as the king passed.

With each confident step, His Majesty grew closer to me.

There were deep wrinkles around his eyes and mouth now, as if he’d aged thirty years in just a few days—not even the powder he now wore on his face could conceal them. Icould not help but imagine this was some sort of divine retribution. If the Shadow King had blessed him with youth, perhaps he could curse him just as easily.

King Léo’s eyes, the eyes he gave Ofelia, fell on me. A shiver darted down my back. Sweat gathered on my neck beneath the heavy armor.

Salute, damn it, I begged myself.He’s not looking at you. He doesn’t know who you are.

But hedid, I could feel it. His agelessness, the way he so easily hid the truth of the palace and its construction, his door to the Underworld... What other dark powers did he have? Could he see the contents of my heart, or hear my vicious thoughts?

I snapped into a salute, my gaze upon him.

May you rot, I thought.May you decay. May vermin consume you.

He turned his face from me and stared ahead. It was so easy for him to pass, to stroll right by me, as if I didn’t loathe him more than any creature on this earth. More than any Shadow.

My hand trembled against my sword.

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