by Nick Martell
The Entrance Hall applauded as the raven-haired woman at his side whispered to him and the king nodded. The ladies began making their way out of the hall. Most, if not all, curtsied to their king before leaving. High Noble Margaux left after a quick goodbye to us all, smiling to herself as she did. Soon after, Joey tugged at Kai’s jacket and then tapped him on the shoulder. Kai carried him off in search of a bathroom and left me with my sister.
“It feels bizarre to be here without our father,” I said.
Gwen was leaning on the table, frowning. I knew her eyes were on the king as he left the Entrance Hall. “Efyra Mason looks too comfortable beside the king,” she said.
“I don’t enjoy it any more than you do. But she’s been there for a decade—it’s not surprising she acts like she belongs there.”
Gwen smoothed her hands over the table. “I’ve always thought it was her. That she was the one who framed our father. That she was a little too infatuated with the king. I remember a particular look that she—”
“Michael Kingman, I wasn’t expecting to see you here. What a pleasant surprise!”
Charles Domet put his hand on my shoulder and winked at Gwen.
Knowing he was immortal only made it creepier.
GOODHEARTED
My skin crawled as Domet put his nearly empty glass of red wine down on the table. “What brings you here tonight? I’m so sorry, excuse my manners: I don’t think we’ve met before, young man. I’m High Noble Charles Domet.”
Gwen glanced at me as she introduced herself as her persona and shook Domet’s hand. Why was Domet pretending not to know her? What did he gain from interacting with us? Especially after all the other times he had made sure we weren’t seen in public together. Did he not care what happened to me tonight? Had he given up on stealing the king’s memories? Or worse… did he know I’d burned down the Shrine of Patron Victoria?
“Young man,” Domet said to Gwen. “Could you do me a favor and get me another glass of wine? Specifically white. I don’t really like red—it’s too tart for me. Be my hero and bring me another?”
Gwen nodded and left the table without a word. When she was out of earshot, I said, “Are you kidding me, Domet?”
“Of course I am. I drink barrels of red wine. As much as I adore your sister’s presence, it was just an excuse to get us alone. Albeit a very bad one.”
“I was talking about how you blurred the lines between my personal and professional life. After last night, you have no right to talk to her like we’re friends.”
Domet laughed and finished his drink. “Michael, that’s perfectly impractical, if you think about it. We’re not strangers. Anyone could learn you’ve been employed to aid in my recovery outside the asylum. So why should we pretend that we don’t know each other? It’s impractical. Anyway, who cares? I don’t.”
“I do, because after I steal the king’s memories, we’ll never have to see each other ever again.” And I would be free of him, and Hollow, forever. I didn’t even care about the money, or learning how to use Fabrications anymore. After tonight he’d have nothing to hold over me and I’d have my freedom again.
Domet seemed amused. “Are you planning on doing it without my help? Because you never came—”
“I did. You weren’t home. I waited as long as I could. Unless you wanted me to be late.”
“Fair. I have been dealing with something else today,” he said, voice slightly higher than normal. “Speaking of which, I’d like to make an adjustment to our deal.”
He was delusional if he thought I would agree to that. “No.”
“I thought you’d say that. But hear me out: we have a good partnership, Michael. I will offer you Sirash’s freedom in exchange for identifying whoever burned down the Shrine of Patron Victoria.”
I felt pale. This was too good to be true. “You want me to find the person that burned down the Shrine of Patron Victoria? You don’t trust the Evokers to do it?”
“The Evokers,” he began, the words coming out of his mouth like poison, “are convinced it was the rebels, because some spineless nobles couldn’t tell the difference between a rebel attack and a personal one. The rebels are delighted: if they can prove the Emperor’s innocence of this crime, they can cast doubt on his involvement in the attack on the colosseum as well. The nobility’s determination to pin it on the Emperor will destroy the case against him, and they’re too stupid to realize it.”
We paused, watching as two low nobles strolled past us—close enough to hear our conversation if they wanted to. They looked lost, glancing around the room with glasses of wine in their hands. Once they saw someone they knew and walked away, we continued.
“How are you so confident they didn’t do it?” I asked.
“The Shrine of Patron Victoria isn’t a symbol in our city. Destroying it won’t undermine the king or help the rebels gain power. There are only a few people that even visit it, myself being the primary one.” He ran his free hand over his mouth. “This was an attack against me. I don’t know why, but someone wanted me to suffer. They knew exactly what would hurt me the most.”
“Why can’t you find out whoever did it yourself? You clearly have access to information I don’t.”
“Don’t be clever with me, Michael,” Domet growled. “They knew how to hurt me. I suspect they know about my condition, too… otherwise they would have attempted to take my life instead of breaking my heart. They wanted me broken, but I will not break so easily. Not after everything I’ve been through.”
“How do you expect me to help you find out who was responsible? It could be anyone.”
“Doubtful. Only two mortals know of my condition.” Domet reached into his jacket pocket and handed me a crumpled piece of paper. Sure enough, there were only two names written on it: Efyra Mason, the Captain of the Ravens, and King Isaac.
“What about me? I know about it.”
That seemed to bring some of the life back to him that years of wine had weathered away. “Michael, bluntly, you have neither the guts nor the imagination.”
If only he knew the truth. “So you want me to find proof that they attacked the shrine?”
“Yes. And the motive. Tonight.”
“That’s impossible.”
“No it’s not. If my suspicions are right, then the king’s memories will hold the proof. Neither would strike against me without consulting the other first.”
“If that’s true, then everything I’d need would be in the same spot.”
“Exactly.”
This was too good a deal to ignore. Not only would Sirash go free, but Domet would never suspect me of attacking the shrine. And the fact that the king and the woman who executed my father would take the blame? All the better.
“It’s a deal.”
“Excellent. Leave the Grand Ballroom when the first dance begins. Go through the bodyguard balcony. I’ll have the guards distracted. Take the third door on the right to get to the Royal Tower—not the first or the second, both of those lead to the Star Chamber. Once you’re in the Royal Tower, search his desk and bookshelves for hidden alcoves. Understand?”
“How am I supposed to get up to the bodyguard balcony?”
“Alas, not my concern. Figure it out.”
I almost had the perfect comeback when Gwen returned to the table, a full glass of white wine in her hand and Lyon by her side. Domet took the wine, thanked her, and then took a sip from it. My brother didn’t look pleased.
“High Noble Domet,” Lyon began, “I’m pleased to see you this evening. I apologize for being direct, but I didn’t know you knew my brother.”
“Pleased to see you, too, Lyonardo. And, yes, I know Michael. He oversees my progress as an outpatient from the asylum for a month. Michael is quite the charming young man, and he’s more entertaining company than stuffy nobles. As you could imagine.”
Lyon nodded after a slight hesitation. “I can only imagine.”
After another sip of his wine, Domet said, “I shou
ld mingle. No doubt there’s someone looking for me or my money around here. Enjoy the rest of the evening.” He left slowly, looking all three of us in the eyes before he did. Soon after, he was snapping his fingers toward the servants to get him more wine.
“Why was Domet talking to you, Michael?” Lyon growled. “What did you do to get his attention of all the people here tonight?”
“I work for him.”
“Domet doesn’t approach people out of nowhere for no reason, even if they work for him. He stalks people, learns everything about their lives, and then destroys them. He has more money than the entire government and no one knows how. Be honest with me: Has he ever offered you a deal? Anything, even if it was trivial.”
“No,” I lied, “he hasn’t.”
My brother exhaled in relief. “Thank God. You should be fine if you avoid him from now on. Never be alone with him and never accept anything from him. Promise me. Promise as a Kingman you’ll never accept a deal from him.”
My chest tightened. He had never asked me to swear on our heritage before. He was serious about this. “From now on, I promise I’ll never accept anything from him.”
“Good,” he said. “Good. I need to return to High Noble Ryder and the others. Thank you for getting me, Gwen. I’ll catch up with you all later.”
For the umpteenth time that night, another person left our little table. When it was just me and Gwen again, she asked, “Are you angry that I got Lyon?”
“No,” I said. I was angry that I just promised as a Kingman to never make another deal with Domet… and I wouldn’t. But it wasn’t my fault we’d agreed to a deal moments before. It was just good manners to finish it—another lie I told myself. They only grew in number these days. “I’m not. You were trying to help. It’s not your fault Domet came over to me. Or that he was acting strangely.”
Gwen rubbed the back of her neck. “I didn’t want you to be alone with him. I was concerned what he might want, approaching you here. Something seemed off about Domet tonight, and it made me uncomfortable. I thought I’d seen the worst of him, but I’ve never seen him like that before. I looked for Kai first and only asked Lyon when I couldn’t see him.”
“Lyon and I have been on better terms lately, and once he’s with Kayleigh he’ll forget about it.”
“Lyon really loves her, doesn’t he?”
I nodded, seeing Kai headed back to our table with Joey in his arms. The young boy was resting his blond head on his older brother’s shoulder. “Never seen him happier. This world suits him.”
“I have also never known my sister happier.” Kai had caught the end of our conversation. “Even when they were childhood friends, she was always more energetic when he was around. I’m happy they were able to reconnect.”
“How is Joey?” Gwen asked. “He looks pretty exhausted.”
“He is,” Kai said. He ran his hands down Joey’s back. The young boy trembled a little in his arms and then was still again. “I’ll probably take him home when the dancing starts. My father is staying; the High Nobles are all discussing the Rebel Emperor’s trial.”
“Do you think they’ll find him guilty?” I asked.
“Only God knows,” Kai said. “If you had asked me two days ago, I would have said yes without hesitation. Everything is more complicated since some fanatic burned down the Shrine of Patron Victoria. I would have more confidence if the Emperor were not on trial for every terrorist attack in recent memory against the citizens of Hollow. But since he is…”
The implication was enough.
“We’ll find out tomorrow,” I said.
A dinner gong had begun to sound, and the nobles were being drawn toward the Grand Ballroom. We followed the crowds and the shuffle of feet against the tiled floor, hearing an announcer calling out names as the various nobles entered the Grand Ballroom.
I didn’t hear much as I approached the door to the ballroom, only the pounding of my own heart in my chest from nerves. Tonight was the night I either sank or swam to freedom. I didn’t plan on drowning, but then, few rarely did.
Without asking for my name, the announcer shouted, voice amplified into the ballroom, “Presenting Michael Kingman to King Isaac and the Hollow Court.”
EXPOSURE
Ever since I was little, I had always thought the rhubarb pie the nobility served after their fancy dinners tasted like hardened snot. No, it was more like rancid butter with fly guts sprinkled over it.
The only reason the nobility said it was delicious, and demanded it, was because the ingredients were rare and poisonous if prepared incorrectly. In reality, it was an expensive hassle for the chefs to bake the dozens of pies needed for an event like this. My opinion was only reinforced years later as I nibbled on the end of one and was met with a taste more bitter than pure vinegar.
I may have been alone in this belief, and I watched everyone else at my table devour it.
“I don’t think I can eat another bite,” Kai declared, leaning back in his seat. As he did, a servant dressed in blue and gold cleared away the remains of the lettuce wraps and the Gold Coast marinated meat and firestone we had cooked it on. Moments after he was gone, another filled our glasses with crisp white wine. Everything was in excess tonight, our scenery included.
The Grand Ballroom was something straight out of tall tales. It was a massive room with tables all around the edges and a slightly sunken dance floor in the middle. Above us was a large balcony where all the bodyguards were eating and relaxing. During the lulls in the music it was possible to hear them drinking and laughing together. It sounded like a merry time. At the end, as far away as possible from the door, was the king’s table, where the most important people sat. King Isaac was in the center with Efyra Mason in my family’s seat. Domet was at the closest table nearby—not that I expected any less of him.
The Corrupt Prince was at a separate table as well, off to the side with his Throne Seekers. Naomi and Trey were with him, drinking and eating and laughing—well, Trey wasn’t laughing, but that didn’t seem out of the ordinary. In all the years I had known him, I had only ever seen him laugh once: when a High Noble tripped and fell face-first into horseshit. As I stared at Trey, I saw that there was another member of the Throne Seekers tonight, but I couldn’t see their face from my seat. Only his big frame.
Regardless, neither the prince nor the king nor the Raven nor Naomi mattered to me tonight so long as they didn’t bother me. I had a job to do and I couldn’t get distracted. With the feast concluding, the dancing would soon begin, and I still had to get to the bodyguard balcony above the Grand Ballroom. I thought there might be a way up via the lower balcony, near the king’s table. Not that it would be easy. Ravens stood guard at all exits, and there was nowhere they wouldn’t see.
As the servants cleared away the last few plates, King Isaac stood and tapped his glass with a knife. “My fellow citizens of Hollow, I would like to take your attention away from each other for a brief moment.” He paused and glanced at three empty seats at his table, one covered with a black cloth. “As we celebrate, we must always remember those who couldn’t be here with us today. While my wife and daughter are merely indisposed, I would like to observe a moment of silence for my eldest son.”
Without another word, he laced his fingers together and bowed his head. Silence overtook the entire ballroom and the bodyguard balcony. Even the Corrupt Prince’s entourage stopped what they were doing to pay respects for the late prince. I lowered my head and did my best not to look in the king’s direction.
“May the Wanderer watch over his journey into the beyond as the Eternal Flame lights his path,” the king intoned before he raised his head. “As much as I would love to take the first dance with my wife to celebrate my birthday, she is sadly unavailable. Thus, I would like to extend the invitation to start to High Noble Morales and his husband.”
An elegant, obsidian-skinned couple near the king rose from their seats and walked toward the dance floor together as a crowd began to gather
and the musicians prepared for a change of pace.
“How much do you think they paid for the honor?” Kai asked, leaning closer to all of us at the table.
“They sponsored a memorial on the Gold Coast for Davey,” High Noble Margaux said. “My parents were telling me about it last night. Apparently it’s going to be massive. Any idea where they acquired that much money, Kai?”
“No,” he said. “They’re not an old High Noble family, so all their money is new and undocumented. The Andels claim it’s drug money and that they’re the ones poisoning the East Side with Blackberries. But you know how much the Andels like to besmirch anyone who doesn’t look like them or the Royal Family. Their claims are ridiculous.”
“Especially when everyone knows the Ryders are the only true High Nobles that hand out drugs willingly,” Gwen quipped.
Kai chuckled and smiled. “I think my father prefers to call it medicine, but we do what we must.”
Noble gossip. My favorite. As stimulating as it was to listen to, I had other things I needed to do. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Naomi get up from her table and move toward the lower balcony.
“I’ll be right back. Need to use the bathroom before I dance,” I reassured Gwen. The last thing I needed was for her to question where I was going—or follow me—but their conversation continued seamlessly, and I crept away toward the lower balcony.
As I walked out onto it, into the cool night air, Naomi was leaning against the railing, a glass of wine in one hand as she gazed at the black horizon. It was early still, and neither the stars nor moons had emerged yet. She drank silently as I approached.
