these places,” the princess muttered as they descended the stairs. The lantern swayed in her hand, and their shadows capered back and forth. “The dead should be burned and given to the sky, not locked up in vaults like preserves. And you call my people heathens.”
After several twists and curves, they saw a glimmer of light ahead. Nikos had set his lantern on the ground outside the Alexios crypt; its glow cast his face in shadow where he sat beside his mother’s sarcophagus, legs sprawled in front of him and a bottle of wine in his hand.
“I probably shouldn’t be found here,” he said, tilting the bottle. “I’d be called morbid and unstable in no time.”
Savedra’s hands clenched in her skirt. “Nikos—”
He waved the bottle in a silencing motion; wine sloshed black against the glass. “Wait. Listen.” He caught the edge of the coffin and pulled himself up; Savedra winced, remembering the scrape of stone as it opened. He took another long pull and set the bottle down.
“Vedra, I love you. I wouldn’t give you up for propriety, or my father, or even a political marriage. I don’t ever want to give you up.”
A painful knot lodged in her throat—before she could swallow it he went on.
“Ashlin. I know this marriage isn’t what either of us wanted, but I find myself not half as miserable as I expected. You’re clever and strong and competent and only a termagant every other decad or so. I like you, and the alliance is a good one. I can’t think of any daughter of the Eight that I’d rather be saddled with. You could have forced me to set Savedra aside, and you didn’t. And—and so it seems heartless and hypocritical for me to force you to set her aside.” He fumbled for the bottle again, and Savedra was too stunned to speak.
Ashlin wasn’t. “Do you mean—”
“I mean I don’t want to lose either of you. If… if you bear the child, I’ll accept it. I would gladly have a child with Savedra—this is the closest I’ll ever come. And—” He looked away, throat working as he swallowed. “And if you don’t, we’re no worse off than before.
“I just—” His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “I just don’t want to end up alone and miserable like Father.”
Savedra’s paralysis broke. She crossed the room in swift strides and took him into her arms. He sobbed once and pressed his face into her neck.
“I won’t leave you,” she murmured, fingers tangling in his hair. “Not ever.” It wasn’t something she’d ever promised before—it was the sort of vow fate took too much joy in breaking. She turned and stretched a hand to Ashlin. “And I don’t want you to leave, either. Stay with us.”
“This is madness,” Ashlin said, staring at them. Then her hand rose to clasp Savedra’s. “We’ll kill one another in months.”
They stood that way for a long moment, precariously balanced until Nikos laughed breathlessly and pulled away. “Then I won’t have to worry about what will happen if Father finds out. But we should go up, or the guards will think we’re already murdering one another.” He squeezed Savedra’s free hand and knelt to retrieve the wine bottle.
“We have to talk,” Savedra said. “Isyllt and I have learned something.”
“Not here,” he said as they left the crypt. “I’ve exhausted my morbidness for the day. And what happened to the lock?” he added as the heavy door swung shut behind them.
“This is important—”
Savedra knew they weren’t alone a heartbeat before a ghastly white shape flitted out of the darkness. Taloned hands closed on Nikos, tugging him down the corridor. He yelped and the bottle shattered on the floor.
Ashlin’s lantern shattered an instant later as the princess lunged after him. The air reeked of wine and smoke and olive oil, and a strange inhuman musk. Savedra snatched up the second lamp and followed, terrible visions flashing through her mind.
Nikos and his assailant had vanished when they reached the next turn, with no trace to show which way they’d gone. The tunnel was silent save for the harsh echoes of their breath, and the voiceless laughter of the fates.
CHAPTER 19
Savedra had dreamt of death, or plague, of ridiculous arguments and of Nikos abandoning her for the unlikeliest members of the court. But never in the worst of her nightmares had she imagined she would have to go before Mathiros and tell him his son had been kidnapped.
The king was closeted with his advisors when they