Page 107 of The Gilded Cage

“You’re looking a bit uncomfortable there,” Jaren said, lips twitching as he watched her holding her belly and moaning. “Do you think you can walk up the hill, or should I carry you?”

He gestured toward a familiar road, one Kiva had traveled numerous times since arriving in the city.

“You’re taking me to Silverthorn?” she asked, tilting her head in puzzlement. The amulet shifted around her neck, a reminder that it was resting beneath her sweater, protecting her from harm. “I’m notthatunwell. I just ate too much.”

Jaren chuckled and wound an arm around her waist, leading her off the crowded River Road and onto the quieter side street toward the academy. “We’re not going there for you.”

Alarm filled Kiva. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” he answered quickly. “We’re not going there for me, either.” He paused. “Well, I guess we kind of are. But not in a way that —” He broke off. “Never mind. You’ll see when we get there.”

Her curiosity piqued, Kiva followed him up the hill, expecting to walk right through the front gates. But before they reached the campus, Jaren guided her between two narrow apartment buildings, moving deeper into the shadows until he was certain they were out of sight.

“This isn’t creepy at all,” Kiva stated, looking around.

“If you think this is bad, never accept Caldon’s offer for a night out on the town,” Jaren returned, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing two small golden objects. “Especiallyif he mentions chasing the spirits of our ancestors or hunting the ghosts of the gods.”

Kiva blinked for a long moment, before slowly saying, “There’s so much there that I don’t even know what to ask.”

Jaren chuckled. “It’s a story that can wait for our next family night.” He held out one of the golden items. “Here.”

Kiva took it, turning it over in her hands. An uneasy feeling hit her at the sight of the simple but elegant mask, but this one wasn’t silver and there were no coiled serpents, so she swallowed her trepidation and asked, “What’s this for?”

Jaren peeled back his mask and affixed it to his face. “For what we’re about to do, I have to be Prince Deverick.” He pointed to his masked features, a self-conscious look coming over him as he indicated what she held and added, “If you don’t mind, I think you should wear one, too.”

Kiva frowned. “But I’m not royal. No one cares who I am.”

The reason for his unexpected look became clear when he said, “Humor me. I’m ... thinking ahead.”

The breath left Kiva at his implication, Tipp’s family portrait flitting across her mind, the image of her and Jaren holding hands and wearing crowns impossible to forget.

Perhaps you might share with us your intentions for her.

Councilwoman Zerra’s words returned to Kiva, an odd swooping sensation hitting her, the feeling not entirely unpleasant.

Jaren didn’t seem to expect a response, and after waiting for her nod of consent, he plucked the mask from her numb fingers, gently sticking it to her face.

“It suits you,” he murmured, smoothing down the edges.

Kiva was having trouble drawing air into her lungs, but she managed to wheeze out, “Erm, thank you.”

Jaren grinned, his mask ending at the tip of his nose, leaving his mouth visible. His eyes were like twin pools of sunlit ocean staring out from behind the golden filigree, impossibly beautiful and frustratingly distracting.

Kiva cleared her throat and looked away, touching the cool metal on her face. “All right, Prince Deverick,” she said, his official name feeling strange on her tongue. “I think it’s time you explained why we’re heading to Silverthorn.”

Jaren didn’t respond other than to grin wider and lead her onto the campus. She tried to keep an eye out for Rhessinda as they traveled the stone pathways, but was distracted when they started up a fork in the path toward the infirmary for long-term patient care and rehabilitation.

As soon as they stepped into the large building, it became clear that Jaren knew his way around the sterile hallways, with healers and residents waving as they passed, none surprised to see him. They did, however, send curious glances toward Kiva, making her grateful that the mask shielded her from their prying looks.

“Nearly there,” Jaren said as they ascended a wide, spiraling ramp up to the higher levels.

“Nearlywhere?”

Once again, he didn’t answer, but he did halt when they reached the top of the ramp, turning to her and asking, “Would you mind if I borrowed your amulet? I have to wear it when I’m here because — well, you’ll understand in a minute.”

Kiva squinted at him in question, but when he just waited patiently, she huffed out a breath and fished the amulet from beneath her sweater, handing it over. He immediately placed it around his own neck, making sure the crest was resting over his clothes, clear for all to see. Only then did he continue guiding her along a white corridor until they reached a closed door at the end.

Frustrated by the lack of answers, Kiva started to say, “Jaren —” just as he opened the door. Before she could finish, multiple shrieks of“PRINCE DEVERICK!”pierced her ears, and she abruptly swallowed her complaint.

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