Reign of Darkness (The Prince's Assassin #2) - Ariana Nash Page 0,52
more akin to a courthouse than whatever a coffeehouse might be, but the patrons passing through its door appeared to range from those dressed in rich silks to traders from the markets. Men and women alike.
Niko carved through the dawdling people, up the steps, and ventured inside. A few wary glances were tossed his way, but none lingered. People gathered around small tables, no chairs—and talked business. Money and trades. Not a pleasure-house, then, but something more official.
Niko was about to turn around and head out when he heard a rolling laugh, the kind so rare he wondered if he’d conjured it up. Yasir must have heard the same because he charged through a back door and out into a sheltered, private courtyard. And there, sprawled in a chair, laughing like he didn’t have a single care, was Vasili.
Relief washed through Niko—he was alive and well! Then rage burned all that away. That slithering prick!
“Oh, Yasir! I hope you finally have my silks?!” Roksana’s voice chimed, though it carried a slurring edge, as though she’d been drinking all night. She sat opposite Vasili. Several empty wine bottles stood on the table between them.
Vasili’s laughter faded as he glanced over his shoulder. He raised an eyebrow at Niko’s approach. Niko was almost on him when the prince’s dagger flashed. The prince remained seated, but the point of the dagger was angled an inch away from Niko’s heart. A knowing flicker sharpened the prince’s blue eye. “What have I done to anger you now?”
This couldn’t be real.
Niko backhanded the dagger from his grip. He’d have lunged in and knocked the bastard from his chair if Vasili hadn’t moved like the snake he was and slipped out from under Niko’s lunge to whirl, snatch an empty bottle from the table, smash its body, and brandish the jagged neck.
“Where were you?” Niko snarled.
Vasili frowned and adjusted his grip on the bottle. “Back down, Nikolas.”
“Like your fucking dog? I don’t think so.”
“Shit,” Roksana slurred and glanced at Yasir. “Are they always like this?”
Vasili didn’t look wounded. He had the slightly glazed appearance of someone high on spice, but his clothes showed no sign of a brawl. He was still the same picture of sophisticated elegance that suited Seran so well, and now nothing made any sense. How could he be here, getting high and drunk with Roksana?
The privateer watched from her chair, barely fazed. She’d heard Vasili call him Nikolas but didn’t seem surprised his name wasn’t Lycus.
Yasir had plucked his pistol free but kept it pointed down. “Where were you both last night?” he asked.
Vasili slowly lowered the bottle. “Is this about the mess at our house?”
Roksana took the hem of her shirt and lifted it to reveal a thick gauze covering her lower belly. “Got me good, he did. I went there to tell you both to leave before Father got wind I was housing you. Unfortunately, it didn’t occur to me how Cavilles don’t take kindly to unannounced folks walking about their rooms.”
She knew Vasili was a Caville. They knew each other… She was Vasili’s woman in Seran.
“Roksana, you were at the ball,” Yasir said.
“Yes, I was trying to get you both to come here without making it obvious, and then you went and insulted the shah, so I lost my chance to speak with you privately. I came back here shortly after, to check on Vasili.”
“Vasili was here the whole time?” Niko asked, watching the prince’s brow knit together.
“The whole time,” Roksana confirmed.
“You know each other?” Niko asked, needing it confirmed.
“Vasili and I met years ago, after I went north, looking for Leila Yazdan.”
She knew his mah? Wait… As important as all of this was, Roksana had left the Yazdan gathering early. She didn’t know her family was dead.
Vasili set the broken bottle down on the table. “What’s happened?”
Yasir glanced at Niko before beginning, “Roksana, your home, your… father. We were there this morning, looking for Vasili, and what we found… devastation.” He moistened his lips. “There’s nobody left.”
She laughed, as though his words were a joke, but that laugh quickly faded in the face of Niko’s grimace. “I don’t understand.”
“They’re gone,” Niko said. “Sometime last night, the dark flame consumed them all.”
Roksana gasped. “What? No. The flame?” She stood from the chair. “Yasir, what is this nonsense? What are you saying?”
Niko glanced to Vasili to check his reaction. Fear stole the color from Vasili’s face. He staggered and reached for the table. It seemed genuine. But how could Niko possibly