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Nineteen

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I should be exhausted. The last sleep I had was not restful, nor was it very long. And because of how deep underground we are, I can only use mealtimes as a queue for what time it is.

After dinner, Casimir took me back to the room in the east wing, pestering me about what Trina had talked to me about. I told him she was asking me about Samu and what he was like as a child, which he believed. He left soon after, promising to talk to his mother again about getting me out of the mission.

He'll be so angry if he finds out that I lied, but he's lied our entire friendship. As I lie atop the bed, staring at the cracked ceiling, I shove away the tiny seed of regret festering inside me. I had no choice. Trina won't let me in on the deserters if I don't do this, if I don't prove myself, whatever that means. If blackmail is what she needs to trust me, it's my only option.

The deserters are my only chance into the Palace. And I'm theirs.

Trina said they would come for me, but so far, it's been dead silent. The only thing cutting me off from the dark, narrow passageway is a tatty white sheet. I keep my eyes trained on it as I change into the clothes in the top drawer as Trina instructed. They're much more fitted than the ones Casimir had given me, and I feel slightly uncomfortable as I fasten the trousers. They hug my hips and cinch in at the waist. I'm grateful to find a black cape, similar to the one I used to go into the forge, and throw it over my shoulders, shielding my body.

I settle back onto the lumpy bed, picking up the weapon I chose. I turn the dagger over in my hands, running my finger along its length. A year ago, I would have had no idea what to do with this. Now, thanks to Casimir, feeling the rough leather hilt against my palm provides me with comfort.

"You're going to use that?"

I jolt, spinning to the entrance to see Jax. He's dressed similarly to me, all in black with a long cape.

"Yeah."

"There are bigger weapons, you know."

"I know."

There was a cross bow, an axe, and a couple of other weapons with large blades that I'd never even seen before. And judging from the expression on Jax's face as he stares at the small dagger, he thinks I should've taken one. But I was never taught how to use those.

"Whatever," he says, turning his body slightly. "Come on."

"You're coming?"

"You didn't think we'd let you go off on your own, did you?"

I swallow, averting my gaze to the ground as I push off the bed. Sliding the dagger into the sheath at my thigh, I wipe my hands on the cape and follow Jax thought the passage. His hair is shaved to his scalp, revealing a pinched scar running from beneath his cloak, up his neck, right into his hairline.

I don't know what I'd expected when Trina mentioned this mission, but I'm less than pleased that Jax is accompanying me. It isn't hard to tell from the way he looks at me that he doesn't trust me. And I don't count on him to have my back.

We don't pass anyone as we wind through the maze-like halls, taking various routes and turns. I try to memorise the way we've come, just in case, but I can't keep track after the fourth corner we round. It's dark, damp, and the ceilings are so low Jax has to walk hunched over. But every passage we enter looks the same. Eventually, the ground transitions from stone to gravel, and the area widens, our footsteps echoing. We've entered the tunnel, and at the end, the ladder I must've come down on the way. I peer up—it stretches further than I can see in the dark. And even though I've already gone down it, my stomach clenches at the fatal height.

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