Walking back into the ballroom into the arms of an elusive and dangerous King is enough of a distraction from the disaster of a situation I'm leaving behind in the alcove. My lips burn and my cheeks are crimson, but I don't dare turn over my shoulder to see if Killian follows me back inside.

The conclusion to our encounter leaves me burning with shame and humiliation. When we kissed, it felt like he burned in a similar way to me. Was that all in my imagination? Had I mistaken his disgust for desire? The memory of how he looked at me after pulling away makes me never want to see him again.

I try to shake the memory from my mind as we round the corner, joining the hordes of people. The dancing has stopped, the music and conversation dulled to a mere murmur. To my surprise, the eyes don't follow my every move, they're all focused on something else—Elora, standing at the bottom of the staircase. She holds the gold hilt of a knife, the blade serrated. Beside her is a golden podium, rounding out at the top into a chalice rimmed with emeralds. Her eyes land on me and she ushers us forward, the crowd parting around us to let us through.

I slow my pace, heart picking up in my chest as we reach the bottom of the stairs and I stare up at Elora, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Join me, Miss Raune, as we await our King."

She stretches her hand towards me. I stare at it like it's a weapon, the long, bony fingers hiding sharp claws, the veins sitting just beneath the wrinkled skin. When I take her hand, she tugs me to stand beside her. I look out at the crowd. Hundreds of face turn towards us, eyes sparked bright with anticipation.

I want to shrink myself away from the watchful eyes, but Elora grips my hand like I'm a prize to show off. Scouring the crowd for any sign of Killian, I come up empty.

I examine the chalice more closely. A cool blue liquid settles in the bottom, shimmering beneath the gleam of the gems.

"Please, kneel for your King."

The entire crowd lower their heads in respect, the guards kneeling and the others lowering their stances. I turn my head to the spiral staircase behind us, tension coiling in my stomach as a figure appears at the stop. He's too far away for me to make out any of his features as he begins his descent. Clothed in deep red from head to toe, a thick, wool cape trails down the stairs after him. As he draws closer, and his face is clearer, something inside my memory clicks.

I know this man.

Clothed in extravagance, he looks drastically different, but there's no mistaking the man who dressed my wounds and empathised with my concerns.

The healer.

He reaches the bottom of the stairs but stops so that he is standing one above us. Reaching a handout, one of the guards' hands him and cane and he leans against.

"Miss Raune." His eyes fall upon me. What was once warm, and gentle seems as cool as ice. "We meet again."

"You're... you're the King?" I murmur. "You said you were the healer."

He eyes me closely but does not respond, finally casting his gaze across to the crowd, who wait in silence. "You may rise."

The healer, King, wears a regal expression as his subjects raise their eyes to him, seemingly starstruck. I can't help but wonder if the King is just as elusive to the shifters as he is to us humans in the villages. And if so, why keep so hidden? Why lie and tell me he was a healer? Why treat my wounds with such kindness only to stare with ice merely a day later?

The King returns his gaze to me, reaching a handout to tilt my chin upwards, head tilted as he examines my neck. He looks at me with such an invasive expression I wonder if he can reach inside of my mind and pull apart my thoughts.

"I had my doubts about you," he murmurs, low so only I can hear. "But Elora's suspicions were confirmed. After that runt of a boy fooled us, we had to be certain."

"You mean Samu?"

"The imposter."

I take a step back, trying to escape his harsh gaze. The disgust in his voice is evident, and it sends terror through my veins. It doesn't matter that Killian suspects he knows where Samu is, my panic threatens to overwhelm me.

"Where is he?" I demand. "What did you do to him?"

Elora reaches out to grab my arm, tight. She forces me to turn to face the crowd, the both of them ignoring my questions. "Subjects of Elel," the King greets. "For years now we have suffered the aftermath of the war with Torinne and the Kinjri cursing their lands. Now that it threatens our great country and the evocian plagues our people, it must be stopped."

The crowd murmurs in response, worried glances casting across the room. Half of what the King talks of makes little sense to me. I knew of the war with Torinne, but it was between the shifters, and never directly affected those of us living in Veymaw, only the trades suffered. But the Kinjri I have not heard before. That sheet in the office spoke of the evocian spreading.

Is it some sort of disease? Does it have something to do with the cloud Killian told me about, the one that ravaged Portson and threatened Veymaw not so long ago?

"Over the years there have been whispers that faith in my rule has waned." The King's words hush the entire crowd. I notice the expressions shifting, eyes leaking with fear. "I come to you today to restore your faith in me as together we restore Elel and our people to our former glory from before the rule."

The King steps down the final step to stand beside me. He grabs my hand from Elora and forces me to raise it in the air.

"I present to you, dear subjects of Elel, our Cloud Piercer!"

A roar rises through the crowd, cheers of triumph raising in the air as the King holds my arm steady in the air. My heart picks up, the noises echoing off the walls of the room and hammering in my mind. I try to break the King's grip, but despite his frail appearance, it is iron-tight.

"I don't understand," I say, my voice barely heard over the cheering.

"Hush, child," Elora hisses.

I don't listen, this time, wrenching my wrist from his grip so forcefully there's a sharp pain in my shoulder. The crowd continues to make noise, chattering amongst themselves as I stumble away from Elora and the King.

"You have something wrong. I have no idea what you're talking about." Elora scowls, but the King merely observes me. "I don't know anything about the evocion."

Elora takes my hand, peels off the glove, ignoring my protests and shoves it into the chalice filled with the glistening, blue liquid. It's unpleasantly warm, and as I yank my hand out, it drips and stains the chest of my gown.

The King raises a hand and the crowds murmurs lull to a stop. "Guards, bring him out."

Through the silence in the room, I hear the growls, low and guttural. The crowd parts as horror settles in my stomach, a shifter, in aminal form, coming into full view. The shifters I've seen are vicious and terrifying, but this, it makes me wants to turn around and run straight up the spiral staircase into the grasp of the King.

Violent red eyes, patches of bald skin where black fur has been rubbed off, yapping teeth sewed shut but some sort of muzzle. Five guards secure the shifter by chains, its front legs outstretched to be attached to a wooden board to keep it from escaping. It yaps viciously at the group as it's guided through, stopping just before us.

I stare in horror, pressing myself into the staircase banister as the shifter growls even at the King.

"W-what's wrong with him?" I ask.

"Like so many others, this poor warrior has fallen to the evocian," the King says to me. "But you can bring him back from this disease plaguing his mind, trapping him in this form."

"W-what?" I falter.

"No more lies, Freya."

"I'm not lying!"

For the first time since I met him, that icy mask slips away, revealing a flash of anger as he steps towards me. "Your father deceived us once with that boy, I will not be deceived again by you."

I shake my head, stumbling back, but one of the guards restrain me and push me closer to the shifter. "Let me go!" I struggle. "I can't help you!"

"You cannot deny what you are when your blood speaks for itself."

My anger flares, overtaking the fear, and I spit in his face. "Even if I did know what you were talking about, I sure as hell wouldn't help you."

There's a blow to my back, sending me flying across the floor and hitting the staircase banister with a smack. It knocks the air from my chest as I slink down two stairs, trying to catch my breath as Elora thunders toward me, the dagger in her hand.

"You show your King respect, girl," she hisses. "Cloud Piercer or not."

She strides towards me as I scramble back, my body aching from the blow. Before she can get any closer, somebody leaps between us, a fluster of dark hair and clothes. Killian. He lowers himself to a kneeling stance, brandishing a dagger towards Elora.

"Don't take another step," he warns, voice low.

Elora pauses, her eyes narrowing as she takes in his clothing, the disguise he's adorned as one of the guests from the village. Behind her, the King's eyes zero in on us, the crowd bursting into movement.

"Traitor," she hisses. "Who are you?"

"That is of no concern to you."

"Guards!" The King shouts.

They start towards us. Within the span of a second, Killian launches himself behind me, pulling me up from my spot on the stairs to hold my back to his chest, pressing his dagger to my throat. I freeze, still trying to catch my breath, as the cold blade pricks my skin. "What're you doing?" I panic.

His lips press to my ear. "Stalling. Stay still."

"Stop!" The King orders, halting the guards. "Stop at once!"

My body rests against his, disturbingly relaxed despite the blade at my neck.

"Come one step closer and I'll slit her throat," Killian warns the King.

The King narrows his eyes. "You wouldn't."

"Would you like to call my bluff?"

The tension is so thick it chokes me as Killian and the King stare at one another. I force myself to focus on my breathing and Killian's steadying heartbeat against my back. It doesn't matter what happened merely minutes ago on the alcove, I've never been more relieved for his presence, even if his dagger is at my throat.

"What do you want in exchange for her?" The King asks. "Money? Travel? What is it?"

Killian doesn't answer for a few seconds. A loud crack expels at the end of the hall. Killian releases me, shoving me behind him and facing the King front on.

"I want you to burn, Ereon."

A loud explosion rattlesthe room, and before the King can respond, the pillar to his left starts tocave in.

~

As things start to unravel, do you think they're getting more or less confusing?

What do you make of what the King and Elora were saying about Freya and what she could do?

How do you think Freya and Killian are going to be able to escape?