The Inadequate Heir (The Bridge Kingdom #3)

She frowned. “What about them?”

“What they mean. Or groups of them mean, I suppose is more accurate. It’s a translated text from one of the nations north of Harendell, where they believe the stars tell the stories of their ancestors.” Pulling the candle in front of them, he held the book behind it so that the tiny script and sketched diagrams were illuminated. Flipping through the pages, he paused when the sight of a constellation in the shape of a whale caused her to lean forward with interest. Smiling, he read the story to her.

And as he read, Valcotta leaned into him, her knee brushing his and her shoulder resting against his chest, the scent of her hair ensuring that none of the words he read registered in his mind.

None of this would be happening if she knew who you were.

The thought caused him to stumble on a word, and he snapped the book shut. “If I read any more in this bad light, I’ll blind myself.”

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his and making him profoundly grateful for how the darkness turned everything to shades of grey. “You read well.”

“Practice. I’ve a number of female relatives who enjoy stories.” As soon as the words slipped his lips, Keris cursed himself for the carelessness that came with too much drink, but she only asked, “You’ve many?”

More than I can name. “Enough that Nerastis seems peaceful by comparison.”

Valcotta laughed, her eyes shining with delight, and then she froze, her gaze going to the entrance.

And that’s when he heard it.

The solid thump of a large group walking with purpose, and then a female voice shouting, “We’re conducting a roundup, loves! Show us your faces, and if your faces be Maridrinian, you better start running now!”

Fuck.

“Goddammit!” Valcotta dumped a handful of coins on the table, then grabbed his hand and dragged Keris across the space. “Is there another way out?” she demanded of the proprietor.

“Through the kitchen.” The woman smirked. “Better run fast.”

They stumbled through the tiny kitchen, Keris nearly overturning a barrel in his haste. Then they were in a narrow alley, refuse squishing beneath their feet as they sprinted to the end. Instead of racing into the street, Valcotta slid to a stop, Keris nearly knocking her over. God help him, he was too drunk for this.

“Shit,” she hissed. “There’s a patrol out there.”

And staying where they were wasn’t an option, because from behind them, he heard the old woman announce, “A rat went scampering that way.”

“Climb!” He caught Valcotta by the waist, lifting her up to a narrow window, which she scrambled inside before reaching down.

“There he is!”

Keris shoved the book he still held inside his coat and jumped, catching her hand and praying she was strong enough to hold his weight.

He was a fool to have doubted her, because Valcotta heaved, drawing him high enough that he could reach the sill. Keris hauled himself in as the patrol raced down the alley toward them.

“He’s in the building! Go! Go!”

He landed on top of Valcotta, but she rolled him off, whispering, “We need to get to the roof. They’ll surround the building and then come inside.”

Heart racing, Keris climbed to his feet and took her hand, leading her cautiously through the darkness until he found a set of partially collapsed stairs. Balancing on the banister, he jumped to catch hold of the upper level, clenching his teeth as the floor groaned beneath his weight. Valcotta followed, and they eased across the floor to where the roof had collapsed, the sounds of the patrol entering the building echoing from below.

The entire structure seemed to shift and move as Keris climbed out onto what remained of the roof, keeping to the shadows so as not to be seen by those below. “Which way?” he asked softly as Valcotta joined him, her eyes panning the rooftops.

“We’ll have to be fast,” she murmured. “Keep up and don’t fall.”

Then she jumped.

“They’re on the roof!” Keris heard the shout as he leapt after Valcotta. He rolled across the neighboring roof, on his feet in a flash and running. Adrenaline drove away the effects of the ale, but he was still hard-pressed to keep up. Valcotta raced across the rooftops, pausing only occasionally to listen for pursuit before sprinting onward.

By the time she pulled him down in the shadows next to a broken chimney, Keris was panting for breath.

“We wait here,” she said softly. “They’ll have given up by now in favor of easier catches, so we need only wait until they’ve rounded up the quota and you can get out of the city.”

It had to be close to the third hour of the morning, which meant only a few more hours until dawn. If he didn’t get back across the Anriot before then, he’d be stuck. And once his escort came knocking at Aileena’s door and realized Keris was not in with the courtesan, there’d be a panic.

Yet as Valcotta leaned back against the rubble next to him, her hip pressing against his, Keris couldn’t find it in himself to regret coming with her.

“I take it this roundup wasn’t planned?” he asked.

“No.” Her tone was sour. “Smacks of Bermin’s doing.”

The familiar way she spoke of the Valcottan prince pricked his interest. “You don’t care for His Royal Highness?”

“He’s an idiot fueled by pride rather than intelligence,” she scoffed.

“Most princes are.”

Her body shook with a silent chuckle, but then a cold south wind blew over them, and she shivered. Pulling off his coat, he handed it to her. “Here.”

“That hardly seems fair.”

“It’s fine. The cold doesn’t bother me.” Which wasn’t the slightest bit true. He was Maridrinian and despised being chilled. But she didn’t need to know that.

Valcotta took the garment, toying with the sleeve for a moment before slipping it on.

Then she shifted so that they were pressed together. His heart leapt, and after a moment’s hesitation, he put his arm around her shoulders, drawing her against him. The flickers of desire that had been tempered by the pursuit of patrols flared back to life, but he kept his hands to places that would cause no offense.

It was a clear night, the stars an ocean of sparkles, and taking her hand, he used her finger to trace a constellation. “Do you see it?”

“The whale.” There was wonder in her voice. “So strange to think we can see the same shapes in the sky as those living half a world away, and in the seeing, know the stories of people we’ve never met.”

“Some of them.” He traced the outline of a bear. “Some you can only see in certain parts of the world. Or at certain times of the year.”

“Why?”