He leaned forward, his gaze fixed on me. It reminded me of all the times I swept the inn porches in Terravin and he listened so intently to what I had to say, no matter how large or small it was. “What is it?” he asked.

“When I ran from Civica, I stole something. I was angry, and it was my way of getting back at some members of the cabinet who had pushed the marriage.”

“Jewels? Gold? I don’t think anyone in Venda is going to arrest you for stealing something from their sworn enemy.”

“I don’t think the value of it was monetary. I think it was something they just didn’t want anyone to see—especially me. I stole some documents from the Royal Scholar’s library. One of them was an ancient Vendan text called the Song of Venda.”

He shook his head. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“Neither had I.” I told him Venda was the wife of the first ruler and the kingdom was named for her. I explained that she had told stories and sung songs from the walls of the Sanctum to the people below, but she was said to have gone mad. When her words turned to babble, the ruler had pushed her from the wall to her death below.

“He killed his own wife? Sounds like they were as barbaric then as they are now, but how does this matter to us?”

I hesitated, almost afraid to say the words out loud. “On my way here across the Cam Lanteux, I translated it. It said a dragon would rise, one that fed on the tears of mothers. But it also said someone else would come along to challenge him. Someone named Jezelia.”

His head shifted slightly to the side. “What are you trying to say?”

“Maybe it isn’t chance that I’m here.”

“Because of a name mentioned in an old song by a long-dead madwoman?”

“It’s more than that, Rafe. I saw her,” I blurted out.

His expression changed almost instantly from curious to cautious, as if I’d gone mad too. “You think you saw a dead—”

I cut him off, telling him about the woman I saw in the hall, on the ledge, and finally in the passage. He reached out, his fingers gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Lia,” he said, “you’ve been through a horrible journey, and this place—” He shook his head. “Anyone could see things here. Our lives are in jeopardy every minute. We never know when someone will come and—” He squeezed my hand. “The name Jezelia could be as common as air here, and a dragon? That could be anyone. She may have even meant a literal dragon. Have you thought of that? It’s only a story. Every kingdom has them. And it’s understandable that you might see things in a dark passageway. It might have even been a servant passing through. Thank the gods she didn’t expose you to the guards. But you’re not meant to be a prisoner in this godforsaken place, of that much, I’m certain.”

“But there’s something going on here, Rafe. I feel it. Something looming. Something I saw in an old woman’s eyes on the Cam Lanteux. Something I heard.”

“Are you claiming this is your gift speaking to you?” There was a strange lilt to his tone, a hint of skepticism, and I realized that maybe he didn’t even believe I had the gift. We had never talked about it. Maybe the rumors in Morrighan about my shortcomings had spread all the way to Dalbreck. His doubt stung, but I couldn’t blame him. Spoken aloud, it sounded ludicrous even to me.

“I’m not sure.” I squeezed my eyes shut briefly, angry with myself that I didn’t understand my own gift well enough to give Rafe more answers.

He stood and pulled me into his arms. “I believe you,” he whispered. “There’s something looming, but that’s all the more reason why we need to leave here.”

I rested my head on his chest, wanting to hold him until—

You think he’d tell you when we were really leaving?

My thoughts froze on Finch’s taunt. Kaden wouldn’t tell me when he was really returning either. I don’t trust you, Lia. And he never had, with good reason. This was a game I loathed playing with Kaden.

“I have to go,” I said, pushing away, “before he returns and finds me gone.” I snatched up my cloak and ran to the window.

Rafe tried to stop me. “You said he’d be gone all day.”

I couldn’t take a chance, and I had no time to explain. I was only just stepping up on the ledge of the window when I heard the key rattle in the lock and Rafe’s door creaked open. I pressed close to the outside wall, but instead of fleeing, I lingered, trying to hear who it was. I heard Calantha’s voice, far more accommodating in her tone with him than she was with me. And then I heard Rafe complimenting her on her dress, transforming in a single breath from a prince to a solicitous emissary.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

KADEN

I wove my way through the troops who stood at ease laughing at the bottom of Corpse Call, happy to be relieved of midday duties. Pockets of soldiers called to me, welcoming me home. Most of them I didn’t know, because I was gone more than I was here, but they all knew me. Everyone made a point to know, or know of, the Assassin.

“Heard you brought home a prize,” one called.

The bounty of war. I remembered calling Lia the Komizar’s prize myself when Eben aimed to cut her throat. I’d said it without thinking, because it was true. All bounty belonged to the Komizar to distribute or use for the greatest benefit to Venda. It wasn’t my place to question him when he said, I’ll decide the best way to use her. Without a doubt, it wasn’t just I who owed him a great debt—all of Venda did. He gave us all something we hadn’t had before. Hope.