“Sixteen is old enough to wield a blade, especially when the life of your goddess is at stake. Some of us were not given the privilege of hiding while the Everlorn Empire conquered everything we loved and held dear.”

Cyrus quietly accepted the rebuke. He looked to the dirt, his hood falling low over his mask. So many people, suffering and dying, while the years passed during his training. So many people relying on him to justify those sacrifices, to give life to a fading resistance.

Keles’s hand settled on his shoulder.

“You haven’t seen much of Vallessau, have you?” she asked, then continued without waiting for an answer. “Would you like to leave this grim party behind and see my favorite part of the city?”

He smiled behind his skull.

“Absolutely.”

CHAPTER 23

CYRUS

Cyrus and Keles sat atop a tower built into the cliff face overlooking the ocean on the northern end of the docks. The moon rippled imperfectly atop the water, the stars flickering amid the deep black like a second night sky. So high up and alone, Cyrus finally pulled his mask from his face and threw off his hood. He breathed in the salty air, then ran his fingers through his hair a few times to sweep errant strands away from his mouth and eyes. The wind blew, teasing them right back in full disregard of his attempts.

“It’s beautiful,” he said.

“The mornings are sometimes better,” Keles said. “Watching the boats coming and going can be a wonder.”

Cyrus glanced at the docks. The sky shimmered red with phantom fire. A bolt shot through his spine, and he turned his gaze back to the stars before he saw burning ships.

“I prefer the night,” he said.

“I do, too. It’s peaceful. Quiet. Sometimes, when I’m up here, I feel like I can still hear Lycaena’s whispers.”

Keles loosened the strings of her black-and-gold dress a tiny bit for comfort. That it exposed much of her chest did not escape Cyrus’s notice. More heat swelled in his neck. He felt so young and stupid and embarrassed. So much for being the fearsome Vagrant with a grinning skull and a silver crown. His attention turned to her intricate face paint, and its obvious allusions to the Butterfly goddess.

“Are you a paladin like your uncle?” he asked out of curiosity.