Book 5: Afterlife

Amval

I stretch my legs in the evening gloom, grateful and nervous about the fact that the only windows into the ballroom are on the ground. Climbing the temple—and staying up there—is far from easy, but at least I have to worry much less about getting caught. Especially as the sun sets, I am becoming a shadow against the night, a far more obvious onlooker. I’ll have to leave soon.

I don’t want to. I can just barely see Kaloni from this angle, laughing at the head table with Sibel and Esen. She suits the crown well, and judging by the endless stream of congratulatory dignitaries, long after etiquette dictates those around her have to pay their thanks, she has done well today. A tired smile stretches my lips, almost enough to dull that ache.

“Hey.”

I jump and whirl, but before I even see her, the smell of violets and ink settles my nerves. Ingrid stands before me, resplendent in an indigo gown that bares her powerful shoulders and draping into