Free The Kraken King, Part 7 by Meljean Brook Page A

Her robe hung on the screen but the blanket was enough for this. Who cared if she exposed herself now? Her heart, her body. She would fling it all at him if necessary.
    Gripping the cover to her chest, she hurried past the screen and—
    Someone was on the balcony.
    The glimpse of blue silk and black hair sent her stumbling, her feet tangled in the blanket. She caught herself before she fell, then stared at the elegant figure striding into her chambers and the guards silently filing in after her.
    Lady Nagamochi and her imperial guard—and there could be no possible
good
explanation for their choosing to infiltrate her chambers in this way.
    Slowly, Zenobia straightened. Ariq had been right. Towers had too many access points and not enough defenses.
    Whatever happened now, she hoped that hers held strong.

Chapter Twenty-seven
    Dregs and hell,
what had he done?
    Now she would run, just as she’d tried to run every time he’d hurt her before. In her bedchamber at the embassy after he’d admitted to reading her letters. On the balloon when she’d discovered the motive behind his declaration. She wasn’t yet racing out of their chambers with her belongings in hand, but she wouldn’t have to. This time, he wouldn’t be here to stop her. She just had to wait for him to go.
    His heart an open wound, Ariq stared out over the water. Each morning after she’d woken in his arms, he’d stood here on the eastern terrace with her, watching the sunrise. He wouldn’t again. And before the sun set, he needed to undo the damage he’d done. He’d use any tactic, any strategy.
    He didn’t yet know what it would be. But he didn’t have much time. The sun was getting lower, the shadows longer . . . and an airship approaching the tower from the north abruptly changed course, altering its heading from south to southwest.
    The back of Ariq’s neck tightened. Pilots didn’t fly roundabout routes. Nothing but sea lay beyond the quarantine—if an airship had been headed in this direction, then the tower had probably been its destination.
    He listened. Only the ocean and birds. He glanced down. No airships were docked at any of the lower levels.
    That wasn’t unusual. And an airship altering course wasn’t alarming on its own. Combined, they rang a strident warning in his head.
    From the terrace, Ariq couldn’t see the northern or southern sides of the tower. Swiftly he returned to the courtyard and pushed through the doors of the first chamber, ignoring the startled gasps of the attendants sitting down to their meal. Before they could rise to their feet, he was on the balcony, his gaze scanning the sides of the tower. He glanced up and his blood seemed to slow and thicken, pumping heavily through his veins.
    Two imperial airships hovered alongside the uppermost level, the red bellies of their cruisers as distinctive as the flags fluttering at their bows. Their engines were quiet, their sails extended.
    So they’d flown in silently, concealing their arrival. Most likely they were signaling other airships to head in another direction. Only one reason for that—making certain no one in the tower had a means of escape.
    An ambush.
    Were they already in? Or were there still airships at the western side of the tower that needed to be cleared first?
    He wouldn’t take the time to look. The attendants quickly averted their eyes as he came into the chamber again, as if they’d been staring at him in shock behind his back, a madman wearing a simple bathing robe and loose hair.
    â€œBar the doors when I’ve gone,” he told them, but it wouldn’t matter. Not against the imperial guard.
    His heart drumming a powerful beat, he tore across the courtyard. Why had the empress and her guards taken this course? They knew he would appeal to them. The empress had the stronger hand, not Ariq. An ambush wasn’t necessary; she already held all the