A decorative wall circled the house, and Lila managed to hoist herself up with the help of a low branch. Perched on top, she could see through the great glass windows, many of which were unshuttered. Her silhouette blended into the tracery of trees at her back as she skirted the house, following the glimpses of Alucard and his sister as they made their way into a grand room with tall windows and a blazing hearth, and a pair of glass doors on the far wall leading to an expansive garden. She dropped into a crouch atop the wall as a man came into view. He had Alucard’s coloring, and his jaw was the same square cut, but it looked hard without Alucard’s smile. The man looked older by several years.
“Berras,” said Alucard by way of greeting. The windows were cracked open, and the word reached Lila through the parted glass.
The man, Berras, strode forward, and for an instant it looked as though he might strike Alucard, but before he could, the girl lunged in front of her brother like a shield—there was something terribly practiced about the gesture, as if she’d done it many times before—and Berras stilled his hand in midair. On one of his fingers Lila saw a duplicate of Alucard’s feather ring before his hand fell back to his side.
“Go, Anisa,” he ordered.
The girl hesitated, but Alucard gave her a gentle smile and a nod, and she backed out of the room. The moment they were alone, Berras snapped.
“Where is Kobis?”
“I pushed him overboard,” said Alucard. Disgust spilled across the man’s face, and Alucard rolled his eyes. “Saints, Berras, it was a joke. Your moody little spy is safely housed at an inn with the rest of my crew.”
Berras sneered faintly at the mention of the Spire’s men.
“That look does nothing for you, Brother,” said the captain. “And the Night Spire sails for the crown. To insult my post is to insult House Maresh, and we wouldn’t want to do that.”
“Why are you here?” growled Berras, taking up a goblet. But before he could drink, Alucard flicked his wrist and the wine abandoned its cup, rising in a ribbon, coiling in on itself as it did. Between one instant and the next, it had hardened into a block of ruby-colored ice.
Alucard plucked the crystal from the air and considered it absently. “I’m in town for the tournament. I only came to make sure my family was well. How foolish of me to think I’d find a welcome.” He tossed the frozen cube into the hearth, and turned to go.
Berras didn’t speak, not until Alucard was at the garden doors.
“I would have let you rot in that jail.”
A small, bitter smile touched the edge of Alucard’s mouth. “Good thing it wasn’t up to you.”
With that, he stormed out. Lila straightened atop the wall, and rounded the perimeter to find Alucard standing on a broad balcony overlooking the grounds. Beyond the wall she could make out the arc of the palace, the diffused glow of the river.
Alucard’s face was a mask of icy calm, bordering on disinterest, but his fingers gripped the balcony’s edge, knuckles white.
Lila didn’t make a sound, and yet Alucard sighed and said, “It isn’t polite to spy.”
Dammit. She’d forgotten about his gift for seeing the magic in people. It would make a handy skill for a thief, and Lila wondered, not for the first time, if there was a way to steal talents the way one did trinkets.
She stepped off the low wall onto the edge of the patio rail before dropping soundlessly to the terrace beside him.
“Captain,” she said, half greeting and half apology.
“Still simply looking after your interests?” he asked. But he didn’t sound angry.
“You’re not upset,” she observed.
Alucard raised a brow, and she found herself missing the familiar wink of blue. “I suppose not. Besides, my excursions were fairly innocuous compared to yours.”
“You followed me?” snapped Lila.
Alucard chuckled. “You hardly have a right to sound affronted.”
Lila shook her head, silently grateful she hadn’t decided to march into the palace and surprise Kell. Truth be told, she still hadn’t decided when she would see him. If she would see him. But when—and if—she did, she certainly didn’t want Alucard there spying on them. Kell was somebody here, a royal, a saint, even if she could only think of him as the silly smuggler who frowned too much and nearly got them both killed.
“What are you grinning about?”
“Nothing,” said Lila, leveling her expression. “So … Luc, huh?”
“It’s a nickname. Surely they have those, wherever you’re from. And for the record, I prefer Alucard. Or Captain Emery.”
“Does the crew know?”
“Know what?”
“That you’re …” She gestured to the estate, searching for the word.
“It’s hardly a secret, Bard. Most Arnesians have heard of the House of Emery.”
He gave her a look that said, Odd, isn’t it, that you haven’t.
“Haven’t you heard them calling me vestra?”
Lila had. “I just assumed it was a slur. Like pilse.”
Alucard laughed soundlessly. “Maybe it is, to them. It means royal.”
“Like a prince?”
He gave a humorless laugh. “What a disappointment I must be to you. I know you wanted a pirate. You should have conned your way aboard a different ship. But don’t worry. There are many doors between my person and the throne. And I have no desire to see them opened.”
Lila chewed her lip. “But if everyone knows, then why sneak about like a thief?”
His gaze drifted back to the garden wall. “Because there are other people in this city, Bard. Some I don’t care to see. And some I’d rather not see me.”
“What’s this?” she teased. “The great Alucard Emery has enemies?”
“Comes with the trade, I fear.”
“It’s hard to imagine you meeting someone you couldn’t charm.”
His eyes narrowed. “You say that like it’s not a compliment.”
“Perhaps it’s not.”
An uncomfortable silence began to settle.
“Nice house,” said Lila.
It was the wrong thing to have said. His expression hardened. “I hope you’ll forgive me for not inviting you in and introducing you to my esteemed family. It might be tricky to explain the sudden presence of a girl in a man’s suit with the ability to speak the royal tongue but not the grace to use the front door.”
Lila bit back a reply. She felt dismissed, but as she stepped up onto the balcony’s edge, Alucard said, “Wait,” and there was something in his voice that she barely recognized, because she’d never heard it from him before. Sincerity. She twisted back, and she saw him haloed by the light from the room behind, framed by the doorway. He was little more than a silhouette, a simplified portrait of a nobleman.
A picture of what someone should be, not what they were.
Then Alucard stepped forward, away from the light and into the shadows with her. This version of him looked real. Looked right. And Lila understood—when he said Wait, what he meant was, Wait for me.
“I suppose we should both be getting back,” he added, aiming for indifference but falling short.
“Shouldn’t you say good-bye?”
“I’ve never been a fan of farewells. Or hellos, for that matter. Unnecessary punctuation. Besides, they’ll see me again.”
Lila looked back at the house. “Won’t Anisa be upset?”
“Oh, I imagine so. I’m afraid I’m accustomed to her disappointment.”