Page 9 of The Scarlet Star

He both needed and cursed this tree.

The light of the moon painted the garden in a milky white. The relaxing aroma of the blossoms turned the air to perfume, instilling a temporary pulse of serenity to the quiet congregation of plants. Xerxes lounged flat on his back over a stone bench, staring up at the sparkling souls of the Divinities in the heavens and the white dragon doing its slow dance across the sky. Back and forth the dragon went. Never growling, never making a sound or moving off course. Just a constant promise in the sky that the Divinities were watching and had infinite knowledge of the kingdom.

Soft buzzing rose from the bushes as the night bugs conversed, and the air turned chilly when the time crossed midnight’s threshold and the new, dark day began. It all tickled Xerxes’s ears.

He’d just closed his eyes to doze off whena girlbroke through a cluster of bloom-bushes, nearly startling him right off the bench.

He lifted his head to watch her scurry across the garden, the wind stealing her long dark hair into a dance. She jogged until she reached a tall, square water fountain, and Xerxes raised a brow as she stared at the great weeping pillar like she didn’t know what it was. She turned to go right, but she paused. She redirected to go left instead, but she only took one step before hesitating again.

Xerxes couldn’t take it anymore. “Are you lost?”

The girl whirled. Her hand went out to grab for something like she wanted to defend herself or some other outrageous thing, but when her gaze found him, she breathed a sigh of relief.

Relief.

Xerxes was sure he’d never seen another personrelievedat the realization of his presence.

He pulled an arm up behind his head to get comfortable. She’d disturbed his peace long enough; she could flutter off now. He tried to close his eyes and resume his almost-nap, but her breathless panting filled his ears, and he cracked an eye open to find her a few steps closer.

“Excuse me,” the girl tried, though—this close she didn’t seem like agirl. More of a young woman. There was dry mud on her dress, and her hair was a wild lion’s mane atop her head. “Might you point me in the direction of the outer wall?” she asked. “This garden is much bigger than I expected.”

It occurred to Xerxes only then that this young woman did not realize whom she spoke to. He glanced down at his own garments, noticing his white shirt was covered in soil from when he’d tripped and fallen into the melon patch on his way out of the palace. His hair was tousled too from tossing and turning on the bench. She probably thought he was a gardener, or worse, aservant.

It served him right for never wearing his blue robe of nobility unless forced.

“Forget it,” she said when he didn’t answer. The young woman dipped her head in apology and headed back toward the square fountain. Xerxes watched in disbelief as she paused—again—and turned back to face him.

“Actually, I could use a hand, if you don’t mind,” she said.

She could be killed for asking the King of Per-Siana for “a hand.”

“With what?” Xerxes asked anyway, though he didn’t get up. He was ready to announce himself at this rate, just so she’d draw back in fear and be on her way. But he cast her a look when she crept in close like she was going to tell him a secret. She came right over him, blocking out the moonlight, and he flinched when she brought her face within inches of his.

“You’re strong,” she commented, looking him over in a way that made him wish he was wearing at least seven coats. Then she whispered, “I need you to lift me over the wall.”

Xerxes stared at her for several moments. He didn’t recognize this young woman, so he couldn’t guess why she needed to leave the palace, andover the wall, of all things. He studied her build, her height, guessing her age. She was undoubtedly pretty, but her dress made her look like a maid. A poor one, too, incapable of keeping herself tidy even in the presence of nobles.

“Why would I do that?” he asked. “Just walk out the front gate like a normal person.”

“I can’t,” she said. She bit her bottom lip in distress, and Xerxes didn’t mean for his gaze to snap to her mouth when she did that, but it happened. “I’m one of the Heartstealers being trapped in the palace—”

“Trapped?” Xerxes couldn’t believe his ears.

“—I’m escaping.” The way she looked at him so desperately put an odd flinch in his abdomen, a flutter that may have been anger, perhaps, or insult, or… Something else entirely. She reminded him of a rabbit in a snare. Until she added, “You can’t really be that blind if you live in this palace. You must see how the King has gathered these maidens, herding them all in like animals being led to theirslaughter.”

For a moment, the whole garden and courtyard swallowed Xerxes whole. He forgot how to blink. And then… the edge of his mouth tugged. He couldn’t help it; his misleading clothes,her abruptly honest words… This was possibly the most amusing thing he had ever seen in all his years as King.

He burst out laughing.

The girl’s face fell, and she drew back a step as her pretty lips pinched together into a scowl. She looked like she might run away from him now, as she should. She headed back toward the fountain, but Xerxes sat up, his eyes narrowing, his muscles flexing.

He should have her killed.

As the thought went through his mind, he became increasingly aware of the stillness of the garden. Of the quietness of the breeze. He looked around, waiting. He glanced up at the stars with a questioning face.

Where were the voices? Why had they not urged him to destroy this woman like they always did when he had a dark thought?

Either way, he should not let her leave. Something within him told him so, but… But it had been a while since he’d found something so outrageously funny. He’d forgotten the sound of his own laugh. He cleared his throat, finding it strained and strange.

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