ACROBATS FLIPPED IN THE AIR, contorting their bodies in unnatural ways, and mages from below shot different types of magic towards the performers. A lightning bolt almost singed Quinn, one of Celvene’s closer acquaintances at the circus, but the performer didn’t so much as blink. She soared from one trapeze to the other, and Celvene watched, resisting the urge to lour. She’d begged Korvin more than once to let her have a shot at performing with the acrobats, but she’d been waved off every time.

She shook off her jealousy, sighing, and walked to the back part of the circus, ducking under a sagging sack of the tent ceiling as she weaved her way through the convoluted maze. She didn’t know where Korvin would be, but her best guess was the rehearsal area. He hated watching live performances most of the time, citing the workers’ “lackluster performances” as being too difficult to watch, and he tended to stay out of the dressing rooms for reasons Celvene didn’t know. He would pop back out into the ring to announce the next performances, playing up his sordid attempt at charisma, but when he wasn’t needed, he was as far away as he could be.

When she arrived in the rehearsal area, Korvin stood in the corner, along with a woman Celvene didn’t recognize. Korvin planted a gentle kiss on the woman’s hand before turning his attention to Celvene.

His curled hair had faded over the years, leaving faint streaks of white in the locks. Age lines decorated his aggrieved face, growing more prominent with the smile stretched across his face. The darks of his eyes bore into her soul—a telltale sign of someone hailing from Khezzintis, the kingdom of death, was how their eyes tended to be so dark they looked black. Korvin was barely taller than her, yet the way he carried himself made him feel twice as large as Celvene.

“Celvene!” said Korvin in his heavy Khezzintian accent, spreading his arms wide. A sleazy grin crawled onto his face. “How’d my pup do? How much money did you make?”

“It should be a good cut,” she said. Korvin was wearing a fancier version of his typical dark gray suit. He must have been dressing up for whatever he had to announce.

“You’re early,” he commented, waving off the mysterious woman. She slithered past Celvene without a word. “I hope you weren’t cutting corners with your dealings to leave sooner. That’s not good for business.”

“Of course I wasn’t.” Celvene bristled. If there was one thing she was certain of, it was that she took her job seriously, even if it made her feel terrible to do so. For Korvin to act otherwise was insulting. “I had a smaller customer base today. Everyone was interested in Sariel and her performance.”

“Couldn’t you have done a double service? Gambling and fortune readings?”

I don’t have four hands, Celvene thought, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She settled on a softer, “I wouldn’t have had the time. It would have lost you more money in the long run.”

Korvin grumbled something under his breath before releasing a heavy grouse. Even from across the room, Celvene smelled the stench of a cigar’s acrid smoke.

“If you’re not confident in your abilities, then—”

“I’m plenty confident,” Celvene said, ignoring her heartbeat stuttering as Korvin’s eyes narrowed.

“I hate being interrupted, pup,” he replied.

Celvene swallowed. Terminating employment wasn't the only punishment Korvin offered.

“I'm sorry,” Celvene said, doing her best to keep her fear from showing. “But I'm one of your best earners. It was a conflict of interest. Nothing more, nothing less. I’ll recover at the next performance. Tomorrow. I promise.”

Something dangerous flickered in Korvin’s stormy eyes, but his voice was smooth as he said, “You’d best be telling the truth. I’ll let you off the hook this time because I’m feeling merciful. We have good news tonight. I’d rather not let my mood sour.”

“Thank you,” she said. She’d gotten far too good at learning what Korvin wanted to hear.

“We have a special performance tonight, and I need you to use your skills to… act as our opener, if you will. Charm the guards and ensure we get through the gates without much trouble.”

Celvene’s eyebrows raised, and she opened her mouth to vocalize her confusion, but upon mulling it over, she clamped it shut without a word. But she couldn’t imagine Korvin would assemble the entire Painted Sky cast for something simple like a performance in the Marble Court district—or, somehow, another kingdom. As the only traveling circus in Fellstride, the further the performance was from their stationary tent, the more money they earned. A visit with the Vosalon or Khezzintis kingdoms would mean Korvin pocketed a hefty sum, given how rare they were; in Celvene’s time at the circus, she’d never visited another kingdom because of work. While Korvin was fixated on money, unless he’d managed to get a performance with a family of elites, she doubted it was important enough. It had to be something bigger. He must have gotten a performance with one of the kingdoms not fixated on destroying Aizasea.

“We’re heading to Virion’s castle once our show for the night wraps up. We’ll be performing for his castle staff as a way to uplift their spirits after the… last performance, which didn’t go as planned,” Korvin said, pulling on a set of black gloves. He flexed his fingers before adjusting the bow tie clipped to his suit. “It’s been in the works for a while now, but I received confirmation a few days ago. I figured they would cancel after last night, but business is business, and they paid a pretty coin to reserve our services. I know it would be quite a shame to lose out on that deposit. It’s quite the opportunity, little pup. And I’m taking you with me.”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Celvene bit her lip. How had Korvin of all people managed to get a performance with the court again? After the last time—where an assassin murdered the king in cold blood in front of the entire crowd, performers and all—she couldn’t imagine any of them wanted to be reminded of that night. It was still fresh in their minds—all of their minds. It had been less than a day since Celvene had witnessed the attack, and she still felt sick whenever she thought back to the event. It made her uncomfortably dizzy and warm. With people actually close to the king, she doubted they were any better. If anything, they’d be worse. And seeing the people who were meant to bring them joy on such a dark day wouldn’t help their grief in the slightest.

And why did Korvin want her to attend? She tended to the gambling lines and fortune telling, and she was rarely allowed to touch the ring, let alone perform in it. She wasn’t going to be of any use in impressing any of the court, and she feared seeing the interior of king’s castle again would cramp her stomach to the point where she’d upheave whatever she’d eaten for breakfast that morning. The last thing she wanted was for an attack to target more than just the king—which meant her life would be in danger. The closer to the castle she was, the more likely her life would be lost as a pointless casualty.

Korvin didn’t seem to care in the slightest, but Celvene didn’t expect him to. If it was possible, she was sure his eyeballs would be made of coins.

“I’m honored, but may I ask why? I’m not a performer, unless you want me to act as a mage,” she said. She wasn’t going to bother asking why Korvin had waited until the night of to tell them about the performance. He’d never been punctual.

“I want them to see how beautiful my cast is. With those eyes, Celvene? Never seen anything like them. You may be my prettiest worker yet, and my criteria to work here is to be one attractive human. You’ve surpassed my expectations.” He grabbed Celvene’s cheek with a gloved hand and gave it a hearty tug before patting his fingers against her skin. “I’ll be sending off the crew after they’re finished, but you can head off early. You know how to get to the castle by yourself, don’t you?”

Celvene stepped back, biting back a shiver of disgust, and tried to discreetly wipe her cheek off. Though Korvin’s hands left no residue behind, his touch felt disgusting. Sticky.

And she’d grown all too used to his comments—he made them to everyone. Every worker of his was his “prettiest,” and he’d supposedly hired none of them for their skill set, yet he restricted Celvene based on what benefited him most. The only comment she believed he spoke the truth about were her eyes—her eyes were a pale shade of gray she’d never seen in another human before. Quinn had once commented she’d seen specks of gold in the gray, but Celvene had never noticed. But she also hadn’t visited two of the other kingdoms before, and the amount of citizens traveling in and out of Aizasea wasn’t too high. There was a chance Noriya harbored thousands of citizens with gray eyes. The only time Celvene had seen any of their subjects was when she saw masked soldiers marching through the hills on the outskirts of the kingdom. They hadn’t dared to come closer than the borders of Aizasea. But last night had proven they’d found their resolve.

“Through the Slums…” Celvene hesitated. She didn’t want to travel through the Slums by herself—it was a great way to get herself shanked. And she still didn’t want to go anywhere near the castle.

“Precisely. It should be dead at this time of day. The sun setting means everyone will be heading to sleep.”

She clasped her hands together, rocking back on her heels. “I, uh, have a beer spill to clean in the gambling tent. It soaked into the carpet and won’t be an easy clean, so I’ll be held up long enough that I can leave with everyone else. And the Slums are d—”

“Dangerous? Hardly. You’ll be fine, pup. No one would hurt a face as pretty as yours.” Korvin made his way across the room, standing near the door. “Keep a dagger out if you’re that worried. I’ll send someone less important to clean up that mess of yours later.”

Celvene tensed, biting her lip. With the brutes who stuck around the Slums—meatheaded, with arms the size of tree trunks—a dagger wasn’t going to do anything to protect her, unless an attacker doubled over from laughter at the sheer patheticness.

“Go,” said Korvin, pointing at the flap. “We’ll meet you in the main entrance when we arrive. Tell them you’re with the circus. They won't question you with the uniform on—or off, for that matter.”

If she was feeling daring, Celvene would have barked back a complaint. But she knew better. Arguing with Korvin always led nowhere, and it had more of a chance of her losing her job than having him realize the dangers of traversing the Slums alone.

She headed out of the room, unsheathing both her daggers and looping her satchel over her shoulder. The night’s air was crisp and cold, and the bite of a promised storm nipped at her skin. She’d heard they were expecting rain come moonrise, so she hoped the circus could arrive at Virion's castle before the storm started.

The streets were unnaturally busy for this time of day, packed to the brim with chattering citizens. Lanterns illuminated the city streets, making Celvene raise an eyebrow. The Slums were never afforded luxuries like light at night if the moon wasn’t in the sky.

Even the merchants were out, buzzing with excitement as they jammed their products in passing citizens’ faces. Celvene had to avoid getting several different types of food shoved at her by ducking and weaving around bodies. She couldn’t tell if she was thankful for the unexpected crowd or not—on one hand, she was able to blend in far easier, and risk anyone developing interest in her. On the other hand, it was unnerving for so many people to be out at this time. Something had to be wrong.

Another woman nearby was holding up a damp newspaper, the ink smudged and dripping down the parchment. With her other hand, she cupped her hand around her mouth. “King Virion killed by Noriyan assassin in his own bed!”

Celvene rolled her eyes and started forward once again. But what she heard next, yelled by a gruff voice, was not what she expected to hear: “The ceremony to find King Virion’s replacement will spread across Aizasea, and the hunt has already begun!”