Page 63 of A City of Flames

“Watch your tone,” he snaps, his glare smoothing out as a wicked smile creeps up. “I can see how you are Nathaniel’s daughter; you can’t keep your mouth shut just like he couldn’t. At least now, he forever will remain... silent.”

My stomach plunges as his words sting more than anything I’ve endured, but anger quickly sweeps in, and I open my mouth to spout my aggravation towards him. Except Lorcan clears his throat before I can go any further. I could, he knows that, but his pointed glance stops me, reminding me who else is in the room.

I return to my food, picking up the fork just as the queen changes subjects. “Any news on the thief?”

Hoping I don’t give any signs away, I try and carve at my chicken. I have news, I’ve seen him too many times now—

“Four reported jeweler stores have been robbed as of recent,” the general replies, the sounds of chalices and servants bringing further food to the table clink and pound in my ears.

The queen murmurs a pensive noise. “Has anyone seen him?”

Yes, too much for my liking.

“Nara has.”

My fork clangs onto the plate as I look up at Lorcan.

“She even knows of his name,” he continues, cutting his meat. “Darius.”

I knew when Lorcan asked me to dine with the queen, it wouldn’t go how I’d wish, it’s also why I was hesitant for Freya to tidy up my hair.

And now as the general and queen share a stoic glance, they don’t seem shocked by the information. I imagine it doesn’t do much to them, though they turn to me, curious as to whatever answer I have for that.

“A shifter,” I say softly. “Said it while the Golden Thief was—” Cutting myself off with a crease on my forehead as I focus on my lap, I remember how he saved me.

“Protecting you?” Lorcan suggests for me, his tone sounding forced.

I lift my eyes to him, but he looks away just as the queen chuckles. “It seems that the thief has taken a liking to Naralía.”

“That is not the case.” I shake my head then realize who I’m speaking with. “Your majesty... He despises what I am just as much as I do of his kind.”

Betrayal echoes in the back of my head. I’m betraying what I am trying to be.

The queen gives me a long look as her lips purse. “Well,” she breathes sharply, tightening on a smile. “It’s only a matter of time before we catch him.” Her gaze flickers to the general. “One of these days, he will slip up—”

“Do you plan on killing him?” I blurt out, surprised by my own question. Ivarron had said how they all wanted him dead. It’s what I’d believed since the start that if they caught him, he’d not last a day in the dungeons. He’d be sentenced to death in a heartbeat. Now I’m not so sure they want that.

Everyone in the room pauses as I brace myself, watching the queen cock her head to the side. “I’ll see to it when the time comes,” she says casually, but every second, her eyes stare right at me, it’s like she is studying every inch. Interior and exterior. “Although we do believe he is a leader for the shifters.” Directing her attention to Lorcan and the general again, she adds, “He might be of use for catching the rest of his kind—”

I drown out the rest of the conversation, focusing on my plate. He might be of use? Would that mean torture if they caught him? If they ever managed to. Despising him is one thing. I know I do. He’s a pain to ever exist, but he can give me what I want, and from what I’ve witnessed so far, I’m starting to believe he isn’t a leader, simply lone thief with a furball of a sidekick.

And telling them I know more than just his name could jeopardize everything.

“Have you invited Naralía to the Noctura ball, deputy?”

Blinking away my thoughts, I glance up as Lorcan freezes at the queen’s question. And then sets the glass down with a clear of his throat. “I haven’t had the chance to discuss it with her.” His eyes never leave my face, but I blank entirely at what they mean.

I lean forward, side glancing at the queen. “I’m sorry, Noctura ball?”

“Every summer solstice,” The general says instead, “The queen invites the leaders from other kingdoms to come and celebrate here in the castle along with people of high class.” His eyes narrow on me, grabbing his goblet. “Commoners, however, are not to attend.”

I grind my teeth so hard they’d turn to dust as I glare at him, but the queen says in a humorous drawl, “Erion, aren’t you forgetting she is not a commoner? She is a trainee.” Grinning, she plays with the pendant. “An Ambrose.” When she notices me staring at it, she lets go, adding, “You are more than welcome to join us.”

My gaze drifts to meet her dark eyes, almost onyx. A ball... somewhere I will not fit in, not in the slightest. “With all due respect, your majesty, I was planning on celebrating with my brothers since they are here visiting me—”

“Then bring them too,” she cuts in, leaning back against the chair as she waves her hand.

“Sarilyn—” The general tries to say in protest as my wide eyes jump between them, and Lorcan’s expression mirrors mine.

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