“You know, it makes sense. After all, the Darkling we captured was a golden guard,” I said to Kalon, keeping my voice down. I couldn’t risk any of the soldiers overhearing us from behind. The discovery had been confirmed earlier this morning, but given Nethissis’s death, I’d not had the time or energy to properly take that in. By this point, though, it was a plain fact—something we had to deal with. “I can see why Beval would be afraid to tell them what he saw.”

Kalon ran a hand through his silver-streaked hair, once again looking behind him. The guards were still watching us, but they hadn’t moved an inch. He smiled, then turned his attention back to Beval. “You’re safe with us,” he whispered. “If there are traitors in golden armor, I promise you we’ll get them all, Beval.”

The Rimian’s shoulders dropped, as if a huge weight had been lifted off him. “There is something more you should know, milord,” he murmured. “There’s word among the Rimians here in the capital that some of us have formed a faction. The Red Threads, they call themselves.”

“What do they have to do with Nethissis’s murder?” I asked.

Around us, the daytime gardeners were busy trimming the hedges, their shears cutting and snipping as they made their way through the central maze, toward the main fountain. I could hear the water trickling into its base vessel. A rushing sound that soothed my senses.

“They’re trying to make contact with the Darklings,” Beval said. “I don’t know any of them personally, but the rumor is they want to help them. They’re anarchists.”

Kalon was unsettled by this revelation, and he made zero effort to hide his reaction. “Are they crazy? Why would they want to do such a thing?” he replied. “Anarchy is the one thing that none of the Rimians and Naloreans should be looking for. They’ll be the ones to suffer the most if the empire falls.”

Beval nodded. “I know, milord. It’s why I’ve kept my distance. But that’s not the most troubling aspect of the Red Threads. I heard a whisper that Trev Blayne is one of them.”

“Where did you hear that? Who told you?” Kalon hissed, his brow furrowed. I could almost feel the anger coming off him in smoky waves. It made my skin tingle. There were many sides to him, and I was willing to bet that the worst had yet to reveal itself. What would an out-of-control Kalon Visentis look like?

“I swear, milord, it was just a whisper in a tavern. It was a busy night, a couple of weeks ago,” Beval said, somehow shrinking before our very eyes. The Kalon effect was clearly powerful.

I took my hand off Beval and smiled briefly. “Thank you for this information. You should get home now, before anyone thinks our conversation is downright riveting.”

The Rimian gave us one last bow and scurried away, slipping through one of the garden’s service gates and leaving Kalon and me standing, somewhat dumbfounded, right next to where we’d found Nethissis’s body.

A few minutes passed in deafening silence as Kalon tried to process what he’d been told. He seemed incredulous, unwilling to believe that his friend might be in cahoots with the Darklings, the very people who’d tried to kill Valaine. To be fair, it did make me wonder, as well. What would his motivation have been?

“Are you okay?” I asked Kalon.

He nodded once. “At least we know for a fact that Nethissis was murdered,” he said. “If the shadows Beval saw were moving slowly until they got here, then ran off, they could’ve been carrying her body. Besides, two other gardeners have already confirmed that the foxes don’t snap necks like that.”

My stomach clenched, anxiousness coursing through my veins, sharper and hotter than any other emotion that had tried me over the past couple of hours. But Kalon was right. At least we knew for a fact that Nethissis had been killed. By the Darklings, most likely.

“What would the Darklings want with her?” I asked, and Kalon shrugged.

“I don’t know. But you can’t mention any of this to the Lord and Lady Supreme. Not to the master commander, either. None of the higher ranks of Visio, for that matter,” he replied firmly. “Ideally, we should keep this to ourselves until we learn more. Maybe wait a little while longer before we tell Valaine and Tristan. I’d like to see what information they come up with, as well.”

“That sounds reasonable,” I said. “What about Trev? The Red Threads? It’s all new to me.”

The corner of his mouth turned into a sad, slight fraction of a smile. “It’s new to me, too, Esme. I’ve known Trev since he was a kid, fresh out of Rimia. He grew up with us, in my family. I find it hard to believe he’d work against us.”

“Against you?”

“The Darklings work against us. Against me. Against Valaine. Against the entire system. So do their associates,” he said. “The logical conclusion here being that, if Beval’s words are true, then my friend has been my enemy this whole time.”

His voice broke. He couldn’t believe it. His suffering touched me, and I didn’t want him to jump to conclusions so quickly. Maybe we didn’t have all the facts yet. “Maybe it’s just a rumor,” I murmured. “Why don’t we talk to Trev about it?”

Kalon’s gaze settled on me, and I temporarily lost myself in the blue pools of infinity beneath his long, dark eyelashes.

“He’ll be at the tournament final today,” he said. “If he survives and wins the grand prize, he’ll want me to turn him into an Aeternae.”

“You can press him for answers then,” I concluded, my brain lighting up and making new connections, opening the doors to new lines of questioning. From where I stood, bringing Nethissis’s killer to justice was beginning to sound more like a possible reality and less like a wild goose chase.

I knew now that our next stop was the Blood Arena. Shivers rushed through me as I remembered the last time I’d been there, and the events I’d witnessed. There was something about that place that compiled the best and worst parts of the Aeternae—their prowess as fighters and predators, and their empty souls, for only an empty soul would have such disdain for eternal life to throw it away in that arena.

Nevertheless, we were going back there, and I was quite excited about the prospect. Not so much for the fighting, but simply because it would bring me closer to the truth. I’ll get justice for you, Nethi. I promise.

Tristan

Valaine and I had spent the past three hours watching Corbin as he interrogated the palace staff with regards to the Darkling attack last night. The more I listened, the more frustrated I got. The questions were simple and generic, not at all useful for this investigation.

“Did you see anything suspicious during your shift? Where were you when Lady Crimson was attacked? Have you heard any of the gold guards discussing the Darklings?”

None of the servants would’ve had the courage to speak up against the gold guards, since they were with us, in the room, assigned as protection detail for Valaine. I actually sympathized with the Rimians and the Naloreans here. I would’ve done the same, for fear of retribution from the potential Darklings still embedded within the gold guards’ ranks.

We weren’t making any progress. Every maid and valet had been telling Corbin the same thing. They’d come in at their usual hours. They’d done their rounds and chores without any disturbances and without seeing anything strange. They’d waited for the early morning shifts to come in before going home. That was it.

Valaine was losing her patience as well, while Corbin started interrogating one of the Nalorean nannies. She was a burly young woman with pale blonde, almost white hair braided down her back, and big blue eyes. Her cheeks were full and pink, displaying dimples at the faintest smile.

“Now, Eudora, I know you’ve spoken to my guards before, but I need you to tell me everything you told them, along with anything else you might have omitted,” he told the nanny, who settled in an ornate chair in front of Corbin. He chose to stand, towering over her, but Eudora didn’t seem intimidated at all. It was the first time I was witnessing a non-Aeternae servant looking Corbin right in the eye, fearless in her demeanor.

“Milord, I usually never leave Prince Thayen’s side,” she said, hands resting in her lap. Her nanny uniform was dark blue with white lace details, the skirt big enough to hide an entire kindergarten beneath it.

“You must’ve seen or heard something,” Corbin insisted, watching her closely.

“Prince Thayen?” I asked Valaine in a hushed voice.

She widened her eyes at me. “Oh, that’s right. You haven’t met him. The Lord and Lady Supreme keep him rather isolated,” she whispered. “Thayen is their son. He’s only eight years old. They have a protection detail on him at all times. An army of nannies. Maids and valets. He’s not without… but to be honest, he is a little neglected.”

Thayen sounded like a well-kept secret of this palace. “He’s the heir to the Nasani dynasty, right?”

“The only one,” Valaine replied with a faint nod before she moved her attention back to Corbin and Eudora. “Hence why he’s not a part of their public life. He’ll have an introductory ball when he turns fifteen.”

“Eudora, were you with Prince Thayen at all times?” Corbin asked. There was tension in his whole frame, his brows pulled into a heavy frown.

“No, milord. I did go to the bathroom a few times,” she replied dryly, clearly uncomfortable with this line of questioning.

I scoffed, tired of listening to the same exchange over and over again. It drew me a scowl from Corbin. “Am I boring you?”

“A little, yes,” I said. “This isn’t going anywhere. You’ve got Darklings who have infiltrated the gold guards. Do you really think the servants will point fingers? They all want to live.”

Valaine was stunned by my remarks, but a sympathetic glimmer persisted in her black eyes. Corbin, on the other hand, was not my biggest fan. He turned around to face me properly, while Eudora stifled a smile, gaze fixed on the floor.

“Do you have any better ideas?” Corbin asked tightly.

I had a feeling that I might get my head cut off if I gave him the wrong answer. Corbin Crimson could easily make himself feared just by using the right tone of voice. That, combined with his massive figure and illustrious armor, was enough to make me take a step back.

If the two of us were to go head to head, Corbin had the advantage as an Aeternae. Faster, stronger, significantly more accustomed to violence than me. But I had to make him see past his own irritation, for there was truth in my words, by which I stood firmly.

“You’ve been grilling all the servants, but I haven’t seen you do the same to the golden guards,” I said. “If there are Darklings among them, at least one or two soldiers should be able to tell you something about it. A rumor, a change in behavior, anything that might indicate foulness. The servants fear your guards. They would never tell on them, for fear of retaliation.”