Of Dust and Bone

two

two

calle
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THE PALACE was still the very same.

Guards — dozens and dozens of them lined the stone castle walls. They were all dressed in their signature poker faces, hands mere inches away from their wolf-headed weapons. But a warrior with a pretty blade was nothing when facing an opponent with a perfect, ready stance. I raked my eyes over their forms.

Weak and sloppy.

They were all just a bunch of useless dogs I could easily play fetch with.

My feet scraped against the cobble path leading to the entrance of the palace, the chains Chezran still hadn't taken off jerking as I stumbled past the pairs of curious eyes. They should be more fearful of me.

They didn't want to know what I was capable of.

I drank in the scent of the groomed, iridescent garden, the rows of shrubbery and flowers and courtesans giggling behind their tinted fans. Their gazes were pinned on something — someone — directly beside me.

"You seem to have many ladies wrapped around your little finger," I grinned at the prince, flipping my hair out of my eyes.

He dipped his head down to look at me, brows creasing incredulously. "I don't know what your talking about," he replied steadily, ignoring the flirtatious glances sent his way. I was curious to know if he understood their intentions.

"Of course you don't," I responded with a dramatic sigh, facing the guards stationed in front of the castle gates. The prince offered no reaction and only nodded at the guards to allow us inside.

I couldn't help but grin again, this time more malicious.

They had no idea what storm was coming for them when I would first step foot inside the throne room. I would murder the king and queen and their wretched sins and subjects with my own bare hands. I just needed the right moment to come, the right distraction to show up.

Gold and white and marble greeted me formally as we entered the palace walls, the gates like beasts roaring when they closed behind us. The guards' shoes were noisy hums against the tiled floors compared to my soft, stealthy padding I'd taken years to perfect. And now if I had the chains off and the day was switched to night, no one would know what hit them.

The palace was the exact maze it had been three years ago, delicate and fragile, hard and unyielding. The portraits of former rulers watched us as we passed, hollow eyes dark with amusement. They knew what was coming next.

We rounded a corner, appearing before a series of separate rooms ornamented with carved, elegant walls and brass door handles three times the price of a normal one. I wanted to scoff at the wealth this palace sought and possessed, the wealth the palace refused to give to others, whether they needed it or not.

The prince looked unfazed beside me, his palm still perching on the head of his sword. The eyes of the jeweled wolf gazed up at me, taunting and smug. I wanted to snap it's teeth off and listen to it's howls of despair.

"We're here," the prince announced, making my eyes snap up to meet his. The emerald was so familiar and cold, the same green flames I'd seen before they had taken me away. "Remember to bow before them," he reminded me, "and let me do the talking."