I Dare You to Break Curfew Page 9

  “Should I change my name?” I asked. “I can be Bond, James Bond.”

  “I do not like how eager you sound about all this. And, for your information, we get movies here.” Troyan glanced at his father as if he didn’t want to be associated with the laughing monarch. Only the slight upward curve of his lips said otherwise. Then he resettled his potent stare on me. “You can keep your name. The northern clans are less traditional than we are. In any case, you will stay in your room until Gaige’s experiment wears off.”

  All my thoughts of espionage and mystery flew out the window.

  “But—”

  “No excuses, Camron,” Troyan said. “I have no time to school you on our society’s rules. My family is one thing, but others are less tolerant—”

  “Troyan,” Darius warned.

  “I have to attend class, and then Assembly.” Troyan paused. “Lev will have to take you to your room.”

  “All right, jeez!” I said. I looked toward Darius.

  “You’ve made the right choice, Camron.” The gravity in Darius’s gaze made him look more like a king in that moment than when Troyan and I had first entered the room. “Even I cannot protect you if something were to happen. We follow protocol written several millennia ago. Even if we fight for change, it doesn’t come on swift wings.”

  Chapter Ten: Light

  DESPITE HOW thin and uptight Lev looked, he sure knew how to steer a struggling guy out of a throne room. My newfound strength seemed nonexistent against him. We walked through both sets of heavy curtains like they were confetti. I hadn’t even agreed to stay in my room my entire stay at the colony yet when Lev arrived to take me away.

  I had gone from accomplice to prisoner in five seconds. But I’d be damned if I would let them handle me this way. The rustling drapes kicked up dust and I sneezed. Rubbing my nose, I decided I had enough of Lev’s particular brand of escorting. I yanked my elbow out of his grasp the moment we entered the hall.

  “Either you’re very good at what you do, or you like pushing people around. I’m willing to bet on the latter,” I said.

  Lev studied his fingernails as if the polish had chipped. “I like what I do. Not anyone can work as close to the Excelsior—hail Excelsior—as I do.”

  “I think we started off on the wrong foot here. The last thing I want is to annoy the….” I gestured at him.

  “Regalia liaison.”

  Translation: pain in the ass, total pushover, lapdog. I lifted a fist and pretended to cough into it to hide my smirk. “Regalia liaison. Right. Up in the north….”

  I didn’t need to finish my sentence. Lev’s nod said I understand. Country Inshari know nothing of the city.

  “Forgive me, but you don’t sound like you’re from the north.” He looked down his straight nose at me.

  “Speech therapist.” I gave him my best charming smile. I inched closer, and as expected, he leaned in. “Between you and me, my father sent me here to learn proper decorum. I was becoming a little heathen.” My words were too close to the truth of my real life that I had to suppress a wince.

  Lev clucked his tongue in fake sympathy and tapped the top of my head with his tablet. It took every ounce of control I had not to snap his arm off. Some lines didn’t need to be crossed. And maiming the Regalia liaison was one of them.

  “I understand completely,” he said. “So, what did you discuss in there?”

  “Oh, the Excelsior—”

  “Hail Excelsior.” He motioned for me to continue.

  “He just wanted to welcome me to the colony and asked about my father.” I pursed my lips.

  He couldn’t hide his disappointment.

  “Oh, don’t mind that. Booooring!” I pretended to chuckle. “I like your suit, by the way.”

  He picked off invisible lint from his jacket sleeve.

  “Hugo Boss?” I kept my voice airy.

  “Armani.” He proceeded to walk down the hall, spine straight, as though he really had a rod rammed straight up his butt. “Come along. I have too much to do today to waste my time babysitting you.”

  Fluff self-important assistant’s ego, check. Make a complete fool of myself, check. Resist incredible urge to snap said assistant’s neck, check. I counted to ten silently, then followed.

  “Is the palace always this empty?” I asked, putting every bit of enthusiasm I didn’t really feel into my question.

  “Everyone’s busy preparing for the Winter Solstice Festival. His Excellency’s Consort—bless her beauty—has the Silent running around like crazy. I even have this meeting to attend just for liaisons. I swear… they have so little respect for the Regalia liaison.”

  My ears perked up at the mention of the festival. Troyan had commented on Gaige’s experiment coinciding with it. I puzzled over all the information I had gathered so far and… nothing. Too many loose ends to make definitive conclusions. He expected for me to understand what he meant, so I gave him my best “Uh-huh.”

  “What about you, Lev? What are your responsibilities?” I asked, the need to get out from under Lev’s supervision becoming my first priority.

  “You wouldn’t believe what I have to do on a daily basis around here.”

  “Try me,” I urged.

  “Well, not only do I prepare the schedule, but I also coordinate with other liaisons to make sure communication runs smoothly between the Regalia. It’s a pain when the other liaisons don’t send their schedules on time. Hundreds of years old and still incompetent.”

  “It must be so hard working with people not as good as you.”

  “If you only knew….”

  Lev launched into a narration about himself. He would be talking about himself and complaining about his work for a while. He wouldn’t notice me gone until it was too late. And surely, fearing for his job security, he’d never rat me out for disappearing.

  I let him round a corner before I rushed back to the throne room. I looked from left to right to make sure no one saw me enter through the curtains, and then I parted them to one side and slipped through the gap. I took a quiet breath and pulled the second set of drapes aside an inch.

  Troyan stood where I had left him. His broad shoulders shook slightly, his large hands balled into tight fists, like he wanted to punch someone.

  “I understand your concern, my son,” Darius said.

  “No, Father.” Troyan lifted his chin. “What Gaige did, not only endangers Camron, it threatens our family’s safety too. The Traditionalists will never stand for what Camron has become. You know what will happen if they get their way.”

  I pressed a hand to my chest, preventing my heart’s attempt to burrow its way out. How could the royal family be in danger? If living with my father taught me one thing, it was that people in power always had threats against them. But surely the Braylins had people protecting them.

  Darius lifted a frail hand. A few minutes ago, he looked strong, dignified, filled with regal presence. Now, he resembled a tired old man reaching the final season of his life. Dried husk replaced his smooth skin. How had he changed so quickly? Was his appearance earlier only an illusion?

  “That’s where you come in, Troyan. Your presence at Assembly will lend support to the Reformists. You know I can no longer intervene with our party. But you, my son, can give them the support they need. But watch what you say. We have reached a precipice.” Darius took one rasping breath, held it, and then exhaled slowly. “I have held this throne far too long. It has begun to chafe.”

  Troyan dropped his gaze to the floor.

  “Say what’s on your mind, my son,” Darius urged.

  “I have absolute respect for the throne you sit upon, Father, but….” Troyan met his father’s gaze. “But what about what I want? It’s been so long since I’ve seen the world outside these castle walls. I crave—”

  “Remember your responsibility to your people, Troyan,” Darius said. “I understand the pressure you must be feeling. Believe me, I want to give you your freedom, but we are not so for
tunate. I feel rather tired of late. I fear the nearing of my final rest.”

  For the first time since I decided to return to the throne room, I felt like I shouldn’t be listening in on something so personal about Troyan. He was baring his soul because he thought he was alone with his father. Guilt ate at me. In front of his father another side to him emerged. He softened, voicing his concerns with care.

  “Father,” he said, “you cannot let go. Not now. Your people need your guidance to usher them into a new age. If Gaige is successful—”

  Darius waved away his son’s concern. He sat up and took another deep breath. This time, on the exhale, a change happened. In a blink, the frailty disappeared like a wilted flower returning to full bloom. His wrinkled flesh smoothened and showed off the silver crescents once more. I covered my mouth with both hands to keep from gasping. How was that possible? There was more to these Inshari than they led me to believe.

  “I may be at the end of my life, but I haven’t reached my deathbed yet,” Darius said.

  “I do not want to find myself burdened, Father. Not yet.” Troyan rolled his shoulders. He snapped a few cricks out of his neck and flexed his fingers.

  His father chuckled.

  “Your shoulders are strong enough for this colony’s woes, my son. You’ve grown worthy of this seat. The Braylin Dynasty lives on in you and your brother.”

  Placing his hand on his chest, Troyan bowed.

  A hand touched my elbow. I spun around and punched without thinking. Long fingers covered my fist. I narrowed my eyes in the gloom to make out rumpled blond curls, marble-like skin, and blue-sky eyes.

  Zaire still wore his uniform disheveled. Although, this time, he had the jacket over his shirt sans cravat. If Braylin handed out demerits for improper uniform, Zaire would certainly get ten for his “just climbed out of bed” ensemble.

  “Don’t sneak up on me like that,” I whisper-hissed. “I thought you were Lev.”

  He brought his forefinger to his lips.

  Lowering my voice further, I mouthed, “What are you doing here?”

  He answered with a mischievous wink.

  Footsteps came from the other side of the curtain.

  Zaire seized my arm and yanked me into a corner. He pressed my back to his front, covered my mouth with one hand and wrapped his other arm securely around my waist. He slowly backed us farther into the gloom. He didn’t exactly exert any force. If I wanted, I could have stepped away from him. Except… I didn’t. I was too captivated by the sweetness of honeysuckle surrounding him. It relaxed my tense muscles and soothed my impulse to shy away from the closeness.

  Troyan glided through the first set of velvety fabric. If he saw me now, with Zaire no less, who knew how he would react. The scowl on his face spoke of the mother of all bad moods, and I wasn’t a willing recipient of it. I held my breath and felt Zaire do the same.

  After Troyan cleared the second set of curtains, Zaire whispered into my ear. “What are you doing here, villyat?”

  I tried to speak, but his hand muffled my response. He laughed and let me go.

  “Will you keep it down,” I whispered, shocked by his reaction.

  “You bring joy into my life, villyat. You really do,” he said.

  “Why do you keep calling me that word? What does it mean?”

  “Little cat,” he said, leveling those blue eyes at me. “You’re too curious for your own good. Just like a little cat.”

  “Don’t you mean kitten?”

  He inhaled, then said, “You smell different.”

  “It’s the scent of not showering for more than a day,” I said, hoping to cover for my transmuted state. The prickle on the back of my neck said otherwise.

  “All right.”

  Surprise and confusion collided inside me. How could Zaire accept what I said? If I were him, question after question would be leaving my lips. But my gut told me not to trust him. A pretty face like that hid lies behind it, like a con man who lived on a smile.

  “I need to follow Troyan,” I said as I moved to the outer set of curtains and pushed into the hall. Maybe Troyan was right. Maybe I should stay away from Zaire.

  I froze midstep, and Zaire plowed into me from behind. I stumbled forward.

  “Watch where you’re going, will you?”

  “I will not. It felt too nice bumping into you,” he said. “You’re so serious.”

  I faced him. “You confuse me.”

  “Good. Where are we going?”

  “We aren’t going anywhere. I’m going to follow Troyan to Assembly. Alone.”

  “Why would you want to do that?”

  “Something’s up. He said the royal family is in danger. And if I’m the cause—” I stopped myself. I had said too much. Zaire’s disarming nature unhinged my jaw and made my tongue wag.

  “Oh, but he’s not going to Assembly.” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down.

  “What?” I looked at him. “Darius just said Troyan needs to attend—”

  “He will. But he needs to be somewhere else first. And since you’re already here, I want to show you something.”

  Before I could ask him what he’d meant, Zaire grabbed my hand and dragged me back to the throne room.

  “Zaire, the Excelsior—”

  “Hail Excelsior!” he playfully interrupted.

  “Why does everyone say ‘hail Excelsior’ every time I mention Darius?”

  “Tradition.” He winked at me from over his shoulder.

  A grin stretched my lips. “So, if I say Excelsior—”

  “Hail Excelsior!”

  I tried again, “Excelsior?”

  “Hail Excelsior!”

  “Excelsior.”

  “Hail Excelsior!”

  “Ex—”

  “Stop it!”

  I laughed. It felt good. And it felt even better because Zaire laughed with me. He strode through both curtains without hesitation, like the room belonged to him. Fabric engulfed me again. Panic didn’t even have a chance to settle into my chest. Darius no longer sat on the throne.

  Zaire didn’t spare the empty seat a glance as he kept moving, taking me with him. He parted another set of curtains at the other side of the room.

  Light seared away the image of the throne. My eyes burned and I couldn’t see. I closed my eyes.

  A cold hand clutched my arm.

  “Keep still,” Zaire said. “Let your eyes adjust.”

  “What did you do?” I blinked to clear the spots. “I can’t see!”

  “Steady, little cat.” The coolness of Zaire’s hand seeped into my bones. “Easy does it.”

  “Where’s the light coming from?” I massaged my eyelids.

  “You have to open your eyes to find out.”

  The humor in his tone, like he had played some joke on me, raised my hackles, but curiosity won over annoyance. I tentatively opened my eyes. Vision still blurred, I blinked to focus. First shadows, then outlines, then buildings. I inhaled in utter surprise.

  We stood on a magnificent balcony, overlooking a sprawling city. The buildings ranged from two to four stories tall. Nearest to us were a group of elegant mansions of gray stone, shingled roofs, and manicured gardens, all arranged in a semicircle. The next ripple consisted of a bustling marketplace with stalls and colorful flags flapping in the breeze. Inshari dressed in a mix of modern and medieval garments were gathered; some were making purchases while others wandered from vendor to vendor. The last two layers had homes that decreased in grandeur. At the edges sat small huts built of straw. Their plots of land were divided into perfect squares, growing turquoise-colored crops. Definitely not corn or wheat.

  Speechless, I turned around and looked up. The palace stretched before me in white marble, the epicenter. Four towers with blue spires completed its four corners. On top each spire hung blue-and-white flags of the Braylin coat of arms. A curtain wall connected each tower and armored Inshari patrolled along it. Another tall tower jutted upward from the center of the castle. On
top of it, a pedestal supported a sphere of radiant white light. But where was the sky? All I saw was a gray, low-hanging cloud. It was almost oppressive in the way it loomed high above us. I returned my gaze to Zaire, who stared up at the sphere, his angelic features twisted into a grimace.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “It’s unnatural. But we need the light to see and survive,” he said.

  “Like a big lamppost.”

  “Something like that.”

  “Are we underground?”

  “We’re within the Caucasus Mountains. The whole range is hollowed out.”

  I gaped. How could they have remained hidden from the world? What about radar? Satellite imagery? Surely, the Russian government would have discovered this colony of Inshari long ago. But another thought overpowered the more practical ones.

  “That’s why I can’t get any service.” I fished out my phone from my pocket and held it up. No bars. Not with the thick walls of a mountain blocking the satellite’s feed. I looked to the sky—well, the ceiling—again and a shiver ran up my spine. “Aren’t you afraid of it crumbling down?”

  Zaire laughed at me again. It became a budding routine between us. He’d say something intelligent, I’d ask something stupid, he’d snicker, and I’d want to punch him. His handsome face wasn’t enough to distract me from his condescension.

  “You know,” I said, pocketing my phone, “I’m getting tired of you laughing at me all the time.”

  “You’re too adorable. The others”—he gestured at the buildings below—“are so boring. You’re the first one to catch my interest in years.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good thing. I really, really don’t.”

  “Of course it is, Camron.”

  I felt a slight blush warm my neck and creep into my cheeks. Zaire had a certain magnetism to him I couldn’t quite resist despite the attitude problem. He pulled me in like gravity, and I wasn’t quite sure if I wanted to resist. Only Troyan’s confession to his father that he wanted to see the world anchored me. I glanced at the underground city again. If this was all I saw day in and day out, I’d want to run away too.