Kell forced himself to stay still, to feign calm, even though his heart was racing in his chest. He tried to remind himself that he wasn’t a criminal, that the royals were likely only worried by his disappearance. He hadn’t done anything wrong, not in the eyes of the crown. Not that they knew of. Unless, in his absence, Rhy had told the king and queen of his transgressions. He wouldn’t—Kell hoped he wouldn’t—but even if he had, Kell was Antari, a member of the royal family, someone to be respected, even feared. He coated himself in that knowledge as he leaned back lazily, almost arrogantly, against the table behind him.
When the members of the royal guard saw him standing there, alive and unconcerned, confusion spread across their features. Had they expected a body? A brawl? Half went to kneel, and half brought hands to rest on the hilts of their swords, and one stood there, frowning, in the middle.
“Ellis,” said Kell, nodding at the head of the royal guard.
“Master Kell,” said Ellis, stepping forward. “Are you well?”
“Of course.”
Ellis fidgeted. “We’ve been worried about you. The whole palace has been.”
“I didn’t mean to worry anyone,” he said, considering the guard around him. “As you can see, I’m perfectly all right.”
Ellis looked around, then back at Kell. “It’s just … sir … when you did not return from your errand abroad…”
“I was delayed,” said Kell, hoping that would quell the questions.
Ellis frowned. “Did you not see the signs? They’re posted everywhere.”
“I only just returned.”
“Then, forgive me,” countered Ellis, gesturing to the shop. “But what are you doing here?”
Fletcher frowned. Though he spoke only Arnesian, he clearly understood the royal tongue well enough to know he was being insulted.
Kell forced a thin smile. “Shopping for Rhy’s present.”
A nervous laugh passed through the guard.
“You’ll come with us, then?” asked Ellis, and Kell understood the words that went unsaid. Without a fight.
“Of course,” said Kell, rising to his full height and smoothing his jacket.
The guards looked relieved. Kell’s mind spun as he turned to Fletcher and thanked him for his help.
“Mas marist,” answered the shop’s owner darkly. My pleasure. “Just doing my civic duty.”
“I’ll be back,” said Kell in English (which garnered a raised brow from the royal guard), “as soon as I am through. To find what I was looking for.” The words were directed at Lila. He could still feel her in the room, feel the stone even as it hid her. It whispered to him.
“Sir,” said Ellis, gesturing to the door. “After you.”
Kell nodded and followed him out.
*
The moment she heard the guards burst in, Lila had the good sense to close her hand over the stone and say “Conceal me.”
And the stone had obeyed once more.
She’d felt a flutter up her arm, just beneath her skin, a lovely sensation—had it felt that nice the last time she’d used the talisman?—and then the veil had settled over her again and she was gone. Just as before, she could see herself, but no one else could see her. Not the guards, not Fletcher, not even Kell, whose two-toned eyes leveled on her but seemed to make out only the place she’d been, and not the place she was.
But though he could not see her, she could see him, and in his face she read a flicker of worry, disguised by his voice but not his posture, and under it a warning, threaded through the false calm of his words.
Stay, it seemed to urge, even before he said the words, lobbed at the room but clearly meant for her. So she stayed and waited and watched as Kell and four of the five members of the guard poured out into the street. Watched as a single guard hung back, his face hidden beneath the lowered visor of his helmet.
Fletcher was saying something to him, gesturing at his palm in the universal sign for payment. The guard nodded, and his hand went to his belt as Fletcher turned to watch Kell through the window.
Lila saw it coming.
Fletcher never did.
Instead of reaching for a purse, the guard went for a blade. The metal glinted once in the shop’s low light, and then it was under Fletcher’s chin, drawing a silent red line across his throat.
*
A closed carriage, pulled by royal white horses, gold and red ribbons still woven through their manes from the earlier parade, was waiting for Kell in front of the shop.
As Kell made his way to it, he shrugged out of his coat and turned it left to right, sliding his arms back into the now-red sleeves of his royal attire. His thoughts spun over what to tell the king and queen—not the truth, of course. But the king himself had a White London token, an ornament that sat on a shelf in his private chamber, and if Kell could get it, and get back to Lila and the stone … Lila and the stone loose in the city—it was a troubling thought. But hopefully she would stay put, just a little while. Stay out of trouble.
Ellis walked a half step behind Kell, three more guards trailing in his wake. The last had stayed behind to talk to Fletcher, and most likely settle the matter of the reward (though Kell was fairly sure Fletcher hated him enough to turn him in even without the added prospect of money).