“Then, I fell unconscious from blood loss,” I say.
“And after that?”
“When I woke up, I had been stitched together, and there was afemalenurse in my cell.”
“And what happened after you discovered the nurse?” he asks. I open my mouth, ready to tell an edited version of the events following my discovery of Amara, but he stops me with a raised hand. “And do not tell me you did nothaveher. My guards informed me of her nakedness.”
Outwardly, I show nothing. Inwardly, I feel a wave of terror. I should have ensured Amara was dressed before the guards came. That was a mistake on my part.
Keeping my face calm, I give a casual shrug. “I looked, yes. She broke my vow, so I made her pay penance.” I flick my hand nonchalantly while my stomach tightens with discomfort. Then I tell him how terrified she was of me when I woke up. I laugh, adding to the callous nature of my story. It is painful, but necessary.
When I have finished, I say, “I would like to see that she is properly punished for her actions upon my return to Vhorath. If you will allow me to take her, that is.”
He smiles knowingly, unsurprised by my request. “That is something that can be discussed. But first, I would like to ensure the matter of her transgression has been fully resolved. At least as far as it pertains to this establishment.”
We spend a short while discussing how this was allowed to happen before I ask, “Will the guards who failed to prevent her entry be punished?”
He gives me a pensive look and folds his hands over his stomach. “In time.”
“What about restitution for the damages I havesuffered?”
“Is your life not payment enough?” His confidence is out of place and confusing. I feel off balance. I assumed I had the upper hand when I entered this meeting, but now I am not so sure. As a test, I remain silent, not providing him with an answer. It takes only a few seconds before he’s shifting uncomfortably and says, “That is all I can offer you.”
With a sigh, I say, “I will take that into consideration when I write my report.”
To my surprise, the mention of a formal report sparks no fear in Gaius.
“Can we consider the matter closed?” he asks.
“For now.”
“Excellent. On to the next order of business, then. You mentioned taking the nurse with you.” He pulls a paper scroll from beneath his desk, unfurling it before him with a ridiculous flourish of his hand. “You also mentioned a renegotiation of your contract to … Elex.”That must be the Temtárh I spoke to.He pushes the scroll towards me. “This is a revised contract that includes the verbiage required for you to take the nurse.”
Ice floods my veins.He knew I would want to take her with me.
I raise a single brow, allowing some of my surprise to leak through, as I say, “That was rather forward.”
“It is just good business. Now, I’ll leave the choice up to you. You can either complete your current contract, as planned, and leave the nurse behind, or you can stamp this revised contract.” His lip curls dangerously. “It requires an extra fight, of course.”
“And why would I agree to that?”
“I cannot allow my property to leave without suitable compensation.”
Property.That word heats my blood and sends the shadow in my depths scrambling for purchase. Gaius knew I would want to save Amara’s life. He was confident enough to have a revisedcontract drafted before I even spoke to him. Had I not bonded with her, I still would have negotiated for her freedom—it is in my nature—but Gaius does not know that. He does not know me. I am a very private person, and beyond my immediate family, there are few who know me well enough to foretell my actions.
What am I missing?
With my throat tight and heart racing, I scan through the contract. It is exactly as expected. Gaius gets what he wants—my very public shaming and multiple chances to end my life. And I get what I want—expedited fights and Amara.
“It says here that the nurse’s contract will be transferred to me? Not cleared?” I ask.
“Correct. She will be your property to do with as you please.”
Property. There’s that word again. I want to strangle Gaius, but I resist the urge and continue reading. When I reach the section discussing my failure, I pause. The terms are fine, but the phrasing is … oddly familiar.
My stomach drops as I realize why.
Amara was right. It is not just Gaius.
