Page 84 of The Scarlet Star

Matthias.

Matthias was dead.

22

XERXES

The screams in the Hall were deafening. A window shattered from people trying to escape through it. The air buzzed with frantic shouts, with terror.

Xerxes had spotted the assassin the moment Ryn leapt in front of him.

He couldn’t move fast enough; he’d grabbed Ryn to spin her, to pull her out of sight, to turn his back into her shield even—but someone else got there first—a blond fellow.

The whole Hall of Stars erupted into chaos. Arrows were flying, bodies were falling to the floor. Xerxes unsheathed the sword fastened to Ryn’s back. He wanted to shout at her, he wanted to scream and demand to know why she’d recklessly put herself in his place. Instead, he stepped off the stage, and he scanned the crowd for other threats as his blood boiled, as his flesh turned ice-cold, as the whisper of water crawled over his skin.

Someone had tried to shoot him. The King.

“Kill! Kill! Kill!”

Yes, he would. He would kill today.

He moved to charge the crowds and annihilate every enemy when a delicate cry filled his ears. His gaze brushed over the blurs of colours and commotion in the room, finding her.

Ryn had moved off the stage and now hovered over the blond fellow on the floor. She was covered in his blood; her dress stained red, her cheeks wet with tears, her sobs an agonized symphony to the Divinities in the sky as she clutched his collar.

The dampness fled Xerxes’s skin. The fire left his veins.

He let the sword slip from his fingers. It clattered to the ground as he marched toward her, but he stopped short when Ryn lifted her watery eyes to him. The look on her face was one he didn’t recognize.

She pointed at him with a trembling hand. “You said you’d keep him safe,” she rasped, and all the stars in the heavens fell upon Xerxes in that moment. “You promised me. You broke your promise, Xerxes!” Ryn screamed it, and Xerxes found he couldn’t move, that his feet had frozen together. “You promised… My friend…” She broke into a well of sobs, a shuddering frame that was once a glass monument of joy, now shattered to a thousand pieces across the floor of the Hall of Stars.

It occurred to Xerxes that he had, in fact, made a promise. And he’d kept it. He’d gone out of his way to request that Matthias do a long scout around the outside of the palace wall tonight—which should have taken him hours. But Xerxes hadn’t personally seen to it that Matthias had left; with everything going on in his battle of wills with the Intelligentsia, he’d been distracted. And now…

Now Ryn would hate him forever. He was sure of it.

Someone unfamiliar appeared over Ryn; a young man in a cloak, holding a bow. He dropped to a knee, and he dragged her to him. Ryn leaned into his shoulder and his cloak caught her tears. Xerxes could only watch.

“Your Majesty!” A Folke appeared at Xerxes’s side. He pointed to where Xerxes was already looking. “That young man just shot the B’rei Mira assassin, but none of us recognize him.”

Xerxes did a quick study of the fellow’s street clothes that made it obvious he wasn’t a visiting noble for the trial. But he couldn’t be dangerous if he’d shot the assassin.

“Bring the Folke commanders to the Strategy Hall. And I don’t want the Intelligentsia there for the meeting. Bar them out,” Xerxes stated. “No exceptions.”

The Folke glanced at Xerxes in question, but he bowed and left obediently.

Broomsticks rushed into the Hall and began sweeping up fragmented glass. Whatever visitors were left were ushered out by the Folke. The Intelligentsia were in a heated discussion at the far end of the room. Belorme had vanished.

It took Xerxes several seconds to find the courage to move. He swallowed and marched to where Ryn and the fellow were. He looked at the young man, unable to make eye contact with Ryn. “How did you get into the palace?” he asked.

The fellow had a hard gaze. He glowered at Xerxes; the coldness coming off him was enough to chill the room. “Ifollowed the spy here. When he snuck in, I snuck in after him,” he finally said.

Xerxes nodded, eyeing him. “Who are you?”

The fellow hesitated to answer. But when he did, he said, “Just a concerned Weylin citizen looking out for my King.”

Xerxes let his eyes flicker to Ryn for the first time. She looked like a ghost, pale and lost to another place. Her lips had grown dry, her eyes puffy. By the way the fellow clutched her, Xerxes had his doubts about who the fellow had come here to protect.

He opened his mouth to challenge the fellow.

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