Heart of Ash (The Dark Arcane Series: Book 1)

Chapter Nine

Darius seemed like a nice enough man, Ashyn supposed. It was just unfortunate for him that he was borne from the bloody emperor; the apple never falls far from the tree.

At least it would free up her evenings.

The buzzing in her veins was addictive, salty and sizzling—she fed off of it. This, this was why she joined the Ka l'asterei—not to destroy the runes or to help the damned rebellion, but to face the people who killed her family and for her to know in all certainty she was stronger than she was back then, stronger than they were now.

She didn't know why the Ka l'asterei had suddenly ordered this but she didn't care, she didn't care a single fucking bit. Why stop at the prince? she realised suddenly, nearly halting in her tracks as she neared the castle. She could kill the bloody emperor. She could kill every single cursed person in that room.

She was stunned she hadn't thought of it before. Meredith would probably tell her to stick to her orders, but fuck the Ka l'asterei; she had the chance to get revenge tonight. She wasn't going to let anyone get in her way.

After vaulting over the back wall, and landing in the gardens, she picked her way between the plants, only stopping when she reached the castle. She ran through to the servants door, shutting it quietly behind her. If anyone saw her, all they would see was a dark hooded figure.

Not suspicious at all.

Her heart pounded as adrenaline rushed, and her vision slotted into focus, a calm settling over her. This is what she lived for.

She heard voices coming from somewhere—the kitchens, she presumed—and immediately went in the opposite direction. Turning down a long hallway, she hoped she was heading in the right direction. She kept her weapons sheathed, hidden in her clothing, but kept a gentle hand by her knives strapped to her side.

She froze as she heard more voices. They were from up ahead this time.

Ashyn whipped around. There was a statue a length away. She ran as fast as she could, shoes soundless against the marble floor, and pressed herself up between the wall and the statue.

The voices grew louder, and clearer. Ashyn held her breath, and hoped her dark cloak would blend in with the shadows well enough; she wasn't made for stealth.

She waited until they had turned the corner, and then the one after that too, before sliding out from behind the statue.

Heart thudding in anticipation, she made another run, reaching the end of this hallway but paused as she heard more voices.

A ballroom worth of voices.

Ashyn didn't want to trust the fact that the guards—no doubt positioned by the door—wouldn't be looking her way if she peeked round the corner, so she looked through the two sets of windows on the corner that allowed her a blurry view of the door to the ball. She could just make out the figures of two guards standing by the door but couldn't tell if they were Elites or not.

She couldn't take that chance, not when she was so close she could practically taste the bloody emperor's screams.

An idea formed in her mind, and Ashyn smiled, calm and small. She would take the servant's entrance to the ball, disguise herself as a servant just enough to sneak behind the thrones, where the royals would likely be positioned. It would be easy enough to slit the prince's throat from there, and rip the bloody emperor's head from his shoulders. Killing from behind was a low manoeuvre, a dirty method, but Ashyn lost her honour long ago, when the bloody emperor burned her family alive.