Descenters

Many suspected the Descenters had been responsible for the strange deaths of high-ranking Royal Guards.

Several in Parsodonia, the capital, had inexplicably fallen from the Rise.

Two had been murdered with arrows through the back of their heads in Pensdurth, a smaller city on the coast of the Stroud Sea, near the capital.

Others had just disappeared while in the smaller villages, never to be seen or heard from again.

Barely a few months ago, a violent rebellion had ended in bloodshed in Three Rivers, a teeming trade city beyond the Blood Forest.

Goldcrest Manor, the Royal Seat in Three Rivers, had been burned, demolished to the ground, along with the Temples.

Duke Brandon had perished in the fire, along with many servants and guards. It was only by some wonder that the Duchess of Three Rivers had fled.

The Descenters weren't just Philvanians who were unknown among the people of Brok. Some of the Dark One's supporters didn't even have a drop of Philvanian blood in them.

My gaze sharpened and zeroed in on the gorgeous woman. Could she be a Descenter?

I couldn't fathom how anyone could support the fallen kingdom, no matter how tough their lives were or how sad they may be. Not when the Philvanians and the Dark One were responsible for the most, for what festered inside of it.

For what most plausible hardened Nathan's life— had taken countless more lives, including my mother's and father's, and had left my body pierced with the reminder of the atrocity that thrived inside the mist.

Shoving aside my suspicions for the moment, I loosened myself up to feel if there was some enormous pain inside her, something that went beyond the physical and arose from either grief or bitterness.

The kind of pain that made people do awful things to try and relieve the anguish.

There was no hint of that radiating from her. But that did not imply she wasn't a Descenter.

The woman's head tilted.

"As I said, you have zero to worry about when it comes to me. Him? That's another story."

"Him?" I reviewed.

She shifted to the side as the main door opened, and a sudden blow of cool air announced the arrival of more patrons.

A man stepped in, and behind him was an older gentleman with sandy blond hair and a rugged face, coloured by the sun—My eyes broadened as disbelief blasted through me. It was Josep Vivic. What was he doing at the Red Pearl?

An image of the woman with short gowns and partly exposed breasts came to mind, and I thought about why I was here. My eyes widened.

Oh, gods.

I didn't want to worry about the reason for his visit any longer. Josep was a seasoned member of the Royal Guard, a man sufficiently into his fourth decade of life, but he was more than that to me.

The dagger strapped to my thigh had been a gift from him, and it was he who smashed with custom and made sure I not only knew how to handle it, but also how to wield a sword, hit a target unseen with an arrow, and even when weaponless, how to take down a man double my size.

Josep was like a father to me.

He was likewise my guard and had been since I'd first come to Lasadonia. He wasn't my sole guard, though.

He shared duties with Rylan Keal, who had replaced Hannes after he'd passed in his sleep a little less than a year ago.

It had been an unexpected loss as Hannes had been in his early thirties and excellent health. The Healers understood it to have been some unknown disease of the heart.

Yet, it was difficult to visualize how one could go to sleep healthy and whole and never wake up again.

Rylan didn't realize I was as well trained as I was, but he knew I could handle a dagger. He wasn't informed of where Josep and I had all too often disappeared outside the castle.

He was kind and often peaceful, but we weren't nearly as close as Josep and I were. If it had been Rylan here, I could have effortlessly slipped away.

"Dammit," I swore, turning sideways as I touched back and pulled the hood of my cloak up over my head.

My hair was a rather obvious shade of burnt copper, but even with it hidden now and my entire face concealed, Josep would recognize me.

He had a sixth sense that only belonged to parents and made himself noticed when their child was up to no good.

Glancing back toward the entrance, my stomach tumbled as I saw him sit at one of the tables facing the door—the only exit.

The gods disliked me.

Clearly, they did, because there was no disbelief in my mind that Josep would see me. He wouldn't report me, but I'd rather wriggle into a hole full of roaches and spiders than try to explain to him, of all people, why I was at the Red Pearl.

And there would be talks. Not the speeches and punishments the Duke liked to deliver, but the type that trudged under your skin and made you feel horrible for days.

Primarily because you had been caught doing something you earned a reprimand for.

And, honestly, I didn't want to see Josep's face when he discovered that I knew he was here. I seized another peek and—

Oh, gods, a woman knelt beside him, a hand on his leg! I needed to wipe my eyes.

"That's Sariah," the woman said.

"As soon as he comes, she's at his side. I do think she holds a torch for him."

Gradually, I looked at the woman beside me.

"He comes here often?"

One side of her lips curved up. "Often plenty to know what transpires beyond the red curtain and—"

"That's enough, "I cut her off.

I now needed to wipe my brain.

"I don't want to hear anymore."

Her laugh was fluffy

"You have the face of one who needs a hiding place. And, yes, in the Red Pearl, that is an effortlessly recognizable look".

She deftly carried my champagne glass.

"Upstairs, there are presently vacant rooms. Try the sixth door on the left. You will find refuge there. I'll reach for you when it's safe."

Suspicion rose as I encountered her gaze, but I allowed her to take my arm and guide me toward the left.

"Why would you help me?"

She opened the door.

"Because everyone should be worthy to live a little, even for a few hours." My mouth fell open as she quoted what I had thought to myself minutes ago.

Amazed, I stood there.

Giving me a wink, she shut the door.

Her figuring out who I was couldn't be a concurrence.

Repeating back to me what I had been speculating earlier? There was no way. A cold laugh escaped my lips. The woman may be a Descenter, or at the very slightest, she wasn't a lover of the Ascended. But she might further be a Seer.

I didn't think there were any of them left.

And I still couldn't believe that Josep was here—that he came here often plenty that one of the ladies in red liked him. I wasn't sure why I was so shocked. It wasn't like Royal Guards were prohibited from pursuing pleasure or even marrying.

Some were quite…promiscuous since their lives were rife with danger and often far too brief. It was just that Josep had a spouse who had passed long before I even met him, dying in childbirth along with the baby. He still loved his Camilia as much as he had when she lived and breathed.

But what could be found here had zero to do with love, did it? And everyone got lonesome, no matter if their heart belonged to someone they could no longer have or not.

A little pained by that, I turned around in the thin stairwell lit by oil wall sconces. I breathed out heavily.

"What have I gotten myself into?"

Only the gods knew, and there was no backing out now.

I slid my hand inside the cloak, holding it close to the hilt of the dagger as I climbed the steps to the second floor.

The hallway was wider and surprisingly silent. I didn't know what I anticipated, but I had thought I would hear…sounds.

Shaking my head, I counted until I entered the sixth door on the left. I tried the handle and found it unlocked. I moved to open the door but halted. What was I doing? Someone or something could be waiting beyond this door.

That woman downstairs—The pitch of a male chuckle filled the hallway as the door beside me opened. Startled, I instantly backed into the room in front of me, shutting the door behind me.

Heart thumping, I looked around. There were no lanterns, just a tree of candles on a mantel. A couch sat in front of an empty fireplace.

Without even glancing behind me, I knew the only other piece of furniture had to be a bed. I breathed in deeply, capturing the scent of the candles. Cinnamon?

But there was something else, something that reminded me of dark spices and pine. I began to turn—

An arm curved around my waist, jerking me back against a very hard, incredibly masculine body.

"This," a thick voice whispered, "is unexpected."