He slips it back into its sheath and holds it out to me. “This one is small enough to hide on your body.”
“Gabriel.” I take the dagger, tug it from its guard, and stare at the wavy design on the steel. “It’s incredible.”
He shrugs.
“No.” Warmth settles in my chest as I return the dagger to its casing. “You are talented.”
“It’s just a dagger.” He reaches for his goblet of mint tea and takes a drink.
“It’s an incredible weapon. There are no bends. No weaknesses.”
He stands and places his goblet next to the basin. “Good night.”
“Wait.” I stand next to him and resist the strong urge to throw my arms around him. “Thank you.”
Those silver-blue eyes meet mine for a breath. Then, he nods and walks away, leaving me with the incredible gift. I stare down at the dagger. It’s one of the finest blades I have ever seen.
Thank you, Gabriel.
ChapterThirty-Two
On a windy morning, I stroll through the city of Astarobane. I keep to my tradition of listening, observing. Nothing stands out. There are still no paths leading me to the city Roland or Hector live in.
As I stop near the fruit stand, I spot Deborah out of the corner of my eye. She walks toward me wearing a dark purple surcoat.
Anger sparks in my veins. Anger for Kassandra.
It takes everything in me to not draw my dagger and teach Deborah to not touch my friends.
“Kyanite,” she says loudly, as though she thinks I’m deaf. “Alden wishes to see you.”
My heart roars against my ribcage. Why would Alden want to see me? Have I done something wrong?
My mind does a quick backtrack, but I discover nothing that stands out. Well, other than removing Lucian from this world. Surely, Gabriel didn’t tell anyone.
Instead of voicing any questions, I simply nod and follow Deborah through the sandstone streets. She doesn’t speak to me. Not that I thought she would.
She thinks she’s above her company with her jewels and silk clothes. She keeps her chin lifted as she walks. Nobody speaks to either of us as we walk by, but they stare. Oh, how they stare. One of their own is walking next to the Kyanite.
The moment she approaches the palace, my heart pounds faster. What if Malachi spoke against me? Or what if Gabriel is tired of me?
Surely, he wouldn’t have crafted such a lovely dagger for me if he was tired of me. It rests inside of my right sleeve, waiting to be used, if needed.
Worry floods through me as Deborah continues leading me closer to my Fate. I would do anything for Kassandra’s comforting presence. When I am with her, I feel safe, accepted, cared for. With Deborah, there’s only smallness and fragility.
Oh, how fragile my lungs are. My legs. My breath.
As we approach the front door of the stone palace, a guard swings it wide. We step inside to the bustle of activity. Servants scurry by. Guards patrol the halls. Groups of people stand in small circles talking.
The interior of the large palace is as grand as the outside. The walls, floors, and ceiling are all made of the same rose-colored marble. The rich veining reminds me of art—the way those lines splash their way across the hard surface.
Deborah leads me past all of them, down a long, wide hallway and to a thick iron door. “In here.”
She nods, and another guard pulls the door open.
Deborah swings her hand toward the opening. “You may go in.”
Quick breaths escape me as I follow her request, stepping into the unknown. My Fate. The room with Alden. The man who looks just like Roland. The man who could condemn me with a single glance.
