NOTE: This is the fourth chapter in a five-chapter update. Chapters 58-61 and the "Code of Thieves" chapter have been published throughout the past two days. Please read those chapters first if you haven't already. They are integral for understanding and possibly enjoying this chapter. Thanks!

XAVIER

Something was wrong.

The gut feeling hung like a dark cloud haunting my very presence from the moment we soared through those doors. It was as though Nefaria itself was off balance—tilted as it veered towards a veiled unknown.

What the unknown threat was, I could not tell. My mind was far too scrambled, its contents strewn about lawlessy. Arielle's decisions—our relationship and going along with Phoenix's acceptance of the crown—were clouding my judgement. They were making it harder to think unburdened and objectively. I needed to clear my mind, or we could all lose our lives.

For a moment, I thought that perhaps all the clutter was what elicited the uneasiness, but that couldn't have been all. I knew better than to ignore instinctive reactions—they were, afterall, patterns that one's subconscious brain was picking up on. But what triggered this pattern recognition?

So, I waited, trying to test my surroundings. I introduced Phoenix to Princess Eris as Sophia Livingston, the name of the little girl who's mother we killed and brother we captured. If the Thieves were plotting against with the Ravens or even monitoring us beyond a reasonable extent, Eris would've known who Sophia Livingston really was. She may have even known that her name wasn't Sophia, it was Phoenix. But she didn't seem surprised in the slightest, merely off-put by meeting a supposedly notable assassin who she had never heard of.

So it wasn't the royal family, or at least Eris, which set off the warning bells in my mind. What was it?

I followed them inside. I hardly registered Arielle inquiring about the dome—they were all things that could've been inferred from the basic organization of their security systems. I scanned the entry hall, watching the Court members as they milled about, talking in hushed tones with each other.

We clearly had interrupted a meeting, one which must've started off with a heartfelt speech about the death of the Prince of Thieves, followed by a debriefing of Concorde's declining security state and the growing power of the Ravens. It was mostly unimportant—merely bare minimum information that we had released to the general public. The fascinating part wasn't their opinions of Concorde, but rather Nefaria's own politics. The Court of Thieves whispered to each other, using indirect words which would be misleading to most, but the real story was fairly transparent me.

They King told the world his son died of illness. He lied. He had just revealed the truth.

The Crown Prince of Thieves was poisoned.

Poisoned by the Ravens, most likely.

I suppose the idea that the Thieves were working the Ravens was now proven wrong. The Thieves may have been cunning opportunists, but they were loyal to blood. They would never kill their own son or brother for the sake of a mostly pointless war. This would make it rather easy to convince the King to aid Concorde. Of course, he would be dramatic about resisting just to get a better deal.

Only a fool would believe his act was real.

I scanned the area further, searching for new information. There was nothing else of high value, just typical court drama—whose business ventures are being backed, who is facing more competition, who seems to carry the most weight amongst the court, who is secretly sleeping with whose husband—all of it was quite routine.

And then I caught a glimpse of a face, flashing through the crowd.

I halted in my tracks. I was only vaguely aware of Arielle's confused glance as I scoured the crowd for the same face. There was a chance I had gotten it wrong, seen his face on someone else's in shadowed light, but if I was right...

"Princess," I called. "I wish to speak with members of your Court, if it does not burden you. Your Highness may continue to the Throne Room."

"Of course," Eris said with a bow. "Our Court is at your service, Your Grace."

I gave an Assassin's bow back before meeting Arielle's eyes one last time, trying my best to convey an important message.

Be careful.

And then I turned, not bothering to do the same to Damien. He would already know that something was wrong—he wouldn't need reminding.

I headed towards a group of Court members, near where I thought I had caught sight of him earlier. I was aware of the others walking into the Throne Room and the doors falling shut behind them.

Good. They'll be well guarded. Sort of.

I approached the group, giving a sheepish smile and a bow, acting as though I was merely passing through. They tried their best to pretend like they weren't watching me—the successor to one of the largest nations in the world, the heir to a crown that was about to crumble at my feet before it ever reached my grasp.

Well, I would change that fate. If only I could find this single damn person.

And then I caught a shadow slipping through the ranks from the corner of my eye. He was headed for the doors, attempting to escape the Palace.

Found you.

I followed him, trying my best not to look conspicuous in the process, though I didn't mind much even if I did. It was far more important to catch him than to be quiet about it.

The man didn't even bother acknowledging the guards or passing Court members as he strode through the doors, his pace hastening when he reached the entry grounds. He reached the outer gates by the time my boots met the thin layer of snow along the long entryway. I strained my ears, trying to gauge what direction he walked as I hurried along the long walkway, the numerous guards posted around the frosted lawn watching my every move.

At last, after I passed through the gates, making sure to nod to the guards. I would most likely need them to like me if I wanted permission to re-enter the palace grounds without notifying the King of my movements. They seemed pleased by the acknowledgement and nodded back.

I turned my attention back to the street I had arrived on. There was a main street that continued straight ahead, with wide roads and polished sidewalks. Winding pyramids rose on either side, blocking out what little sun we could see. Pedestrians wandered the streets. A few, who were dressed in various colored silks, snapped photos of the palace and its gates. They were most likely tourists from Variatus who journeyed here for the Sun Rising Festival which would take place in a few weeks. Our pod was parked a few feet away, to the side, ready to take us back home at a moment's notice.

Another street ran alongside the palace walls, its sidewalks less traversed, though still just as sophisticated. I looked down the street to find a dark figure scurrying around the corner. It had to be him.

I hurried after him, keeping my movements quick but unalerted. I would not cause the guards any suspicion of my actions. The Thieves would not know that they had been infiltrated until I allowed them to know.

As soon as I rounded the corner, my pace quickened to a run. I could see him just a bit further down this new street, one with much smaller roads and deeper shadows. He drifted through them, neglecting to check over his shoulder—probably in an effort to blend in. To pretend as though he wasn't the one I was looking for. He underestimated me. I made note of his clothes and figure the moment I spotted him in the palace.

He didn't see me coming until I tackled him.

He kicked as we both crashed to the ground, twisting to make me take the brunt of the impact. I grunted as he hauled to his feet, though not before I managed to snatch a knife from where it was sheathed on his belt. He ducked and shuffled away trying his best to avoid my grip. I let him, let him think that he was about to run away. It would be easier for me to pin him if he was standing anyway. I rolled to my side, pretending to be in pain, but was ready to strike at a moments notice.

Finally, he regained his balance and tried to run, but I sprang to my feet, grabbing his arm and hooking my foot around his ankle. He kiltered to the side, about to lose balance again.

Good.

I pushed him towards the wall, keeping my foot in place, twisting his leg in the process. He heaved for air, about to curse, but I had him pinned against the wall with his own knife at his neck before he could utter a word. In the foggy street lights I could see his facial features much more distinctively. My suspicions were right. I knew who it was.

It was the Raven Lieutenant.

Up close he looked much younger than I thought—perhaps only a few years older than me, if at all. His dark eyes were startled, but focused, partially covered by the straight black hair which fell down the front of his face in strands. A faint scar ran from his left cheekbone to his chin and another across his neck—one from a knife, the other a shrapnel wound. I didn't have to look at his hands to guess there were more scars littering the pale skin. He had the look in his eyes—the look of a man who was beaten down by the world since a young age. Of a man who survived, thrived even. Of a man who taught himself the language of blood.

After a few moments, once he had processed the shock of losing, of being pinned, his mouth twisted into a lopsided smile. He grinned as I pressed the knife deeper into his neck.

"Xavier Kingston," he hissed.

"Lieutenant," I greeted. "I'm assuming you're a part of the Nefarian Court."

He shrugged, or at least imitated a shrug as best as he could under my grip. "A recent development. Never thought of myself as a sit-on-a-wooden-bench-all-day kind of person, but I guess it has its perks. Besides, my nightly activities give me more than my fair share of entertainment."

His nightly activities. Like killing my mother.

I bit my tongue, forcing myself to come back to the present. I couldn't bring her into this. I needed to focus, remain objective. I couldn't be bogged down by memories.

"What is your job in the Court of Thieves?" I questioned. My damned throat was already starting to scrape against itself, the pain rising.

"I'm a Court Member? It's kind of in the title. Don't know if you noticed."

I gave him a rattle, bringing him forward and slamming his head into the wall again. "Don't try to fight me with sarcasm. You will lose."

He laughed. "So I've heard. Your reputation precedes you. The sarcastic, all-knowing Crown Heir of Intellects. I'm honored to be in your wonderful presence."

"As you should be. I, however, can't say the same. In fact, I'm starting to grow quite tired of your presence. I would recommend you start talking before I slash your throat from boredom."

"Except," he continued, ignoring my comment, as he spat, "the spoiled, bratty prince isn't all-knowing is he? After all, you know nothing about me, do you? Guess I should be the Crown Intellect instead."

He laughed, though he was so rudely interrupted when I slammed him into the wall again, making him grunt in pain. "Why did the Ravens place you in the Nefarian Court?"

"To infiltrate, obviously," the Lieutenant said. "And to do my job."

"Which is what exactly?"

He shrugged again. "Keep everyone in check. Gather information for the Ruler. Talk to the Ruler. Advise the Ruler." He paused, his grin growing as he added, "Protect the Ruler."

And then a gunshot echoed through the small street and a bullet hit the wall right beside my head, sending a plume of marble dust. I looked down the street where it was shrouded in shadow.

How did someone sneak up on me so easily?

I pulled the Lieutenant away from the wall, trying to lope my arm around his shoulder and press my knife to his neck again, but another gunshot rang out. I could feel the heat as the bullet whizzed past my cheek, close enough to burn. I bit my tongue again.

I couldn't tell if the assailant was an expert marksman who was giving me a warning or a terrible one who kept missing. Either way, I couldn't risk it. I had to let the Lieutenant go.

I dropped my hand with the knife, letting my attacker know that he was safe from the knife at least. The attacker took a step forward, standing in the street light.

A young girl stood with a gun glinting in her hands. Her dark blonde hair looked almost pure brown in the light, and her eyes were wide. I couldn't make out their color from the distance, though they looked dark. A gun glinted in her hands as she held it up.

I recognized the girl from my research on the Rebels. I remembered the information on her file. Her name was Lily, legal last name unknown. She was daughter of Laine, leader of the Rebels. And now it seemed she had turned traitor against her own father and was aiding the Ravens.

Interesting.

I could tell from the way her hand tensed that she was getting ready to fire again if I didn't release her Lieutenant. And thanks to her distance and the limited weapons that I could access before she fired, I was out of options. I would have to give him up. It wasn't terrible though. At least now, thanks to the knowledge that he's on the Nefarian Court, I had some way to track him, somewhere to start.

I loosened my grip and shove him forward, into Lily's line of sight so that she could've shoot me as I fled. I turned on my heel, sprinting back towards the Marble Palace wall. I rounded the corner, not daring to look back as I returned to the large street. Guards still stood at the gates in the distance. The Lieutenant and Lily wouldn't dare to attack me now, not in the clear line of sight of the armed guards and the numerous cameras lining the wall.

My mind reeled, trying to piece together the information I had just been given.

Lily was now a Raven, and a considerably powerful one if she knew the Lieutenant's identity and was tasked with protecting him. The Ravens had infiltrated Nefaria as we had presumed, but they had managed to even enter Isolone with no trouble. The Lieutenant himself had weaseled his way into the Court of Thieves, meaning the Nefarian Court was compromised and likely couldn't have been trusted. He must've been responsible for poisoning the Crown Prince. And the Lieutenant was here to gain information for the Ruler, keep her up to date, and—

My thoughts came to a screeching halt as I remembered the last words he had said, the arrogant grin that had come with them.

Protect the Ruler.

If he was protecting her, then...

The Raven Ruler was here.

I shook my head, staring up at the white walls, envisioning the loose ends in my mind, the puzzle pieces, and the threads that had started to connect each piece to the others.

I thought back to the past month or so, to the events that led up to this—tracking down Phoenix then Tressa, the bombing, the escape of Eveleen Fluor, leading the Rebels astray, the Ravens threatening us with Indigo, luring us to Chicago, showing off their cloaking technology, the carefully laid traps, the secrets they had known. All of it led us right to the heart of Nefaria, to the Thieves' seat of power. All of it was formulated by one person. One mastermind who had known our secrets, had pulled our strings, had us dancing like puppets. One person who had us in the palm of their hand. Who had tricked us.

Who had outsmarted us.

It was all one person. And as the image in my mind cleared, the puppeteer coming into view, my throat constricted.

I blinked. I knew who the Raven Ruler was.

Fuck.

I sprinted back to the gates of the Marble Palace.

Hey guys! I'm so excited for you guys to read the next chapter! It's what I envisioned when I first started planning this story nearly three years ago and the scene I've been trying to work my way towards for all 61 chapters. Can't wait for you guys to read it! Hope it doesn't disappoint!

Don't die from jumping off the cliffs. There are bigger cliffhangers to jump off of for the next few chapters!
- Sreenija Paruchuri