Daughters of the King |✓|

Chapter Seventeen

We fell silent once more as the towers of concrete casted a dark shadow onto the car. We had now passed the city's threshold, and it felt like a tomb had closed in all around us. Rose petals rained onto the windshield with the breeze.

I clutched my seat, suddenly feeling like my heart was in my throat. I had no idea what would happen after this. Gunnar didn't appear troubled, but he'd asked me to move to the back, since it was better for the sake of appearances.

I was worried there was something eh wasn't telling me. He wasn't preparing me well enough for what was coming. There was no plan beyond the lies we'd agreed to tell, and although I wasn't afraid of winging it, I didn't think it was wise.

This was his army. His religion. His territory. Why wasn't he preparing me more?

But I couldn't risk asking. We were within the city limits now, under the merciless scrutiny of hundreds of curious onlookers. Hundreds of witnesses to your crimes, if you weren't careful. So I kept my mouth shut as the palace approached in the near distance.

If the city was an island, then the palace was a second island within the first, surrounded by a belt of sloping greenery that looked like it had been combed into rows by Gods themselves, creating rings that wrapped around the grounds. As if the palace were a pebble dropped into a still lake, and the land was the body of water that had rippled all around it.

The building itself I'd seen before, in photographs and on the Black Channel on TV, but seeing it in person was different. The thing was a beast—a mountain, a menace rising out of the mist, each peak as sharp as a knife. Its façade was an artwork of contradictions, imperial and gothic and modern, all at the same time. I couldn't decide if it was beautiful or hideous.

I clutched my seat tighter as Gunnar drove us over a final bridge, one that lead directly into the belly of the beast. We'd gone through many checkpoints on our way here, so I was used to the routine. They would demand papers, ask questions, inspect the vehicle if they felt the need to. But coming up to the gates of the palace, I felt as nervous as if it were the first time all over again.

Gunnar stopped the car and announced us, and the guards looked right through me, too afraid to let their eyes linger, although it was clear that our presence—my presence—held weight here. More than usual. A hush spread among the guards, before the gates were pulled apart to allow passage.

And then we were there. In the courtyard. All white concrete and roses.

It had started to rain as Gunnar pulled the car to a stop. A sudden shower. I blinked out the window and spotted a door opening off the side of the palace, and then two blurry figures marching out into the wet. They looked like creepy shadows distorted out of shape, and something immediately felt wrong.

With sudden panic, I glanced at Gunnar, and he was already looking back at me, golden eyes piercing through me. With the rain pouring heavily over the car, we were temporarily hidden from view, and for the first time in days, he looked worried. Maybe even sad.

That's when I knew for sure. There was something he hadn't told me.

"I'm sorry, Olya," he whispered.

"What do you mean?" I asked in a rush, my heart beating fast now.

"I didn't want to tell you sooner. We won't be seeing each other again after this. Those were my orders."

That's all he said, then he turned to face the windshield again, turning his back on me in the process. A final goodbye. Not much of a goodbye at all.

Before I could think or say anything, the door swung open and the rain fell in. Sheets of it were coming down at an angle, sharp like needles, ice cold. My head snapped up, and I was faced with the clear, distinct face of a girl with hair red like fox fur. Her bronze skin was dusted with flecks of gold, and her eyes were doe-like and soft brown.