A Queen of Gilded Horns (A River of Royal Blood #2) - Amanda Joy Page 0,100

Isa pass the time?”

“We climbed trees and snuck around the palace like two mice.”

The building was too high to easily leap down, so we picked our way down rooftops until we reached a small, single-story shop. The jump down to the alley below was much less painful. It could have been any backstreet in Ternain, with debris in soggy puddles of melting snow.

We headed toward the market, which, Aketo explained, was shared by the khimaer and the soldiers in the Aerie. The soldiers traded coin for craftwork and repairs, and khimaer used that coin to trade for food.

We were just feet away from turning onto the main street, where the market sat, when we heard the first crunch of boots on icy snow.

We ducked under the eave of one of the houses, pressing our bodies flush against the limestone wall. My pulse thundered in my ears, but after a few long minutes, they passed without turning onto our street.

Once they were gone, I slid down the wall. “What would have happened if they caught us breaking curfew?”

“Flogging, most likely, for your first offense. If they discovered who you were . . . worse.”

I stared up at him, unable to understand how he could be so calm. “Do you think it’s like this in the Southern Enclosure? This bad?”

“Not in the same way, no, but I imagine similarly terrible,” he said softly, like he was speaking to a child.

I didn’t even mind, because I felt like one, wholly unprepared to make sense of this. Sher n’Cai was as beautiful as Aketo had said, and they had made a true home in the Aerie, but they were still under siege. Constantly.

I had thought myself so brave sneaking from my rooms in the palace. That small act of rebellion had been so gratifying at the time, and now it felt completely hollow.

I dropped my head into my hands. “How can I . . . how can we fix this Queendom? The Rival Heirdom, the Enclosures, Court, it’s all wrong.”

“We start here and then figure the rest out as we go along.” Aketo gently pulled at my wrists until I looked at him.

I kissed him, first each of his cheeks, then his eyes and his brow, until I made my way back down to his lips, whispering, “There’s no one I trust more than you.”

As I said it, I realized just how true it was. Aketo had kept so much from me, but with good reason. I trusted his heart and his empathy. I felt brave enough to ask the question I’d been working up to all night. Resting my chin on his shoulder, I said, “Where do they do it?”

Dread filled his voice. “Do what?”

“The killing. The beatings.”

“Right outside the General’s manor.”

“Can I see?”

A muscle in Aketo’s jaw flexed, but he agreed.

It wasn’t safe to go any closer to the wall outside Throllo’s home, but from atop one of the homes nearby, we would be able to see it.

“Stay low,” Aketo commanded as we climbed up the back wall of one of the homes choked in vines. The sweet scent of the crushed white flowers filled the air, making my stomach turn. Once we reached the top, we had to cling to the roof tiles, lest we slipped right down the peaked roof.

I scanned the surrounding streets, but no patrols of soldiers ventured close by. We inched around to the front of the home and looked past the market’s tents and into the patch of grass beyond it, where I could finally see the wooden structure clearly.

It was a gallows. Though three nooses swung in the night breeze, no bodies hung from the gibbet. I blew out a relieved breath, but my stomach gave another heave. A dozen feet from the gallows lay a rack made of heavily splintered wood with shackles attached to the top and bottom. Black stains that could only be long-dried blood covered it.

Saliva filled my mouth, a warning that I would be sick if I looked on much longer, but I could not stop staring. I imagined I could smell the reek of death from here, even though that was impossible.

When I shifted to look at Aketo, the wrath in his face stole my breath. “This is new. Usually he just hung them from the wall, but this . . .”

By some unspoken agreement, we climbed down. When I reached for Aketo’s hand, it was fisted and trembling.

“This is why we’re here,” I reminded him. “He’s not going