Page 40 of A Fate Unwoven
“We don’thavetime,” Dimas said. “Wyrecia has been waiting for Lenora’s arrival long enough. The longer we keep her hidden, the more the rumors surrounding my claim to the throne will likely grow. Especially now that my father is … now that their emperor is dead. The news of Lady Sefwyn’s and his passing has not yet left the palace, but we won’t be able to keep it quiet for much longer.”
That explained the absence of lit candles in the windows of the houses they’d passed. Novobyrg was not yet a city in mourning. For now, at least, Dimas’s loss was his own.
The carriage came to a stop once more. Murmured voices carried from outside, and then footsteps, heavy and booted, grew louder with every second. A heartbeat later, the carriage door opened. Ioseph stood on the other side, his expression as serious as it had been back in the old watchtower. And beside him, his face cast in shadow, was Finæn.
She hadn’t spoken to him since leaving the watchtower. Finæn had volunteered to drive the carriage with Ioseph, and Dimas, clearly wanting to avoid any more tension, had agreed. On the rare occasions they stopped to rest, Lena had stayed in the carriage with Maia, her will to avoid Finæn stronger than her need to be beneath the open sky.
Now there was nowhere to hide. She could feel the weight of Finæn’s eyes on her as Ioseph gestured them out of the carriage.
Dimas ducked out first, followed by Maia and Milos, and finally, Lena. Her legs were numb after days of sitting, her muscles weak from disuse, but she refused to let it show. She ignored Finæn’s outstretched hand and instead huddled beside Maia, her arm pressing against the younger girls in silent comfort.
“The way is clear,” Ioseph said, voice low. “Stay close and stay quiet.”
Dimas gave a sharp nod. “Agreed. Milos, I want you to head straight for the church. Find Brother Dunstan and tell him to meet me in thethrone room within the hour and then head for the regent’s quarters and give him the same message. When you’re done, have the imperial healer change your bandages, then get some rest. And Milos, keep what happened with the creature in the Wilds to yourself. That’s an order.”
The incident might be used as another mark against Dimas to prove his unworthiness. It was best to keep it under wraps.
Milos hesitated, his attention flicking to Lena.
For a second she thought he was going to disobey, but then he lowered his head with a muttered “Yes, Your Highness” and slipped away into the shadows.
Dimas and Ioseph exchanged a silent glance, and then Ioseph was leading them through a small side door in one of the towers. Someone had lit an iron sconce at the bottom of a set of spiraling stone stairs, but otherwise, the space was gray and cold, a far stretch from the beautiful courtyard just a few feet away. There was nothing of the decorative palace here. No silver paint or beautiful flowers. It was a place meant for moving through the shadows unseen, and as they ascended, the stone seemed to whisper their breaths back to them.
The hairs on the back of Lena’s neck prickled the same way they did whenever she was alone in the woods. As if someone,something,was watching her. At least in the forest, she had the trees for cover. Here, there was nowhere to hide.
“Are you alright?” Finæn whispered, his breath tickling her ear.
“Do you care?” The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Every time she thought about what Finæn had done, the threads of everyone around her would flare into existence, and the Fateweaver’s power would rise up in response. It was exhausting, and Lena wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep fighting it.
“Of course I care.” Finæn’s voice was strained. “Lena, I only did what I thought—”
“Æspen,” Dimas interrupted, “this isn’t the time.”
They’d come to a small break in the stairway, where Ioseph stood beside a wooden door half hidden in shadow. Dimas grabbed one of the lit sconces from the wall. The light from the flames illuminated his too-pale eyes, bringing a hint of color to his almost translucent skin. He was so …delicate.So not at all what she’d imagined the son of one of the most brutal emperors in Wyrecia’s history to look like.
But just like the bright flowers in the palace courtyard, Dimas’s delicacy was nothing more than decoration, and Lena would be a fool to think otherwise.
Sweet chamomile blanketed Lena as Dimas opened the door. She squinted, her eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness of the hallway beyond; tapestries woven with shades of silvers and blues hung from the stone walls, each one depicting a scene from one of the few old tales still legal in the empire.
The tale of the first Fateweaver.
They told the story in the same way the empire always had. A girl chosen by theZværna, a peaceful smile on her face as the eldest Sister of Fate, Næbya, blessed her with a great power. The same rage that had filled Lena during her dream at the smuggler’s home rose at the sight of them.
She forced herself not to look at the tapestries as Dimas led them down the hallway, his threads a constant, flickering glimmer in the air. If she didn’t know any better, she’d have thought him almost as anxious as she was.
After a few more silent moments of walking, of passing locked doors that Lena longed to peer behind, they rounded a corner into a separate corridor. A thick, navy carpet ran the length of the floor, its edges embroidered with shimmering silver thread.
There was only a single door here. Its wood had been painted the same midnight blue as the rug, and in the center was the symbol that now marked Lena’s wrist.
“These are the Fateweaver’s quarters,” Dimas said, as if the symbol hadn’t given it away. “You’re free to rest for the evening. I’ll send someone to attend to you.”
No.If Lena was going to have any chance at finding the hidden chamber Venysa had mentioned, she needed to be alone. She feigned a yawn, letting down the wall she’d been trying to keep up between the bond and her emotions long enough for the prince to feel her exhaustion.
“I’ll be fine on my own. I just want to get some sleep.”
Dimas paused, threads dancing. “I understand. However, I insist that you at least bathe before retiring for the evening. It’s been a long journey.”
