I stilled. I’d been prepared for this. Known that part of the game was giving up our arms, and that Imperator Hart would be coordinating the return of them by morning.Still, it was jarring to see my sword taken by the Emperor’s men, to be without the feel of a blade against my thigh, or resting at my hip.
But there were two weapons not included in the presentation. Asherah’s armor. And my stave. Imperator Hart had them packed with his personal items.
We were searched more thoroughly by the soturi for any hidden blades, as another dozen ashvan horses appeared in the sky, all pulling golden coaches adorned with sparkling Valalumirs. Once the search was complete, we were ushered into coaches. Within minutes, we were out of the courtyard flying over the Palace.
I could make out the Nutavian Katurium in the distance. It was connected to the Palace via a waterway, half a mile in length. Tomorrow it would be covered with Lumerians attending the games.
We landed in another courtyard, much the same as the first, but this one had doors that led into apartments full of windows.
“Your Ka’s quarters for the Valabellum, Your Highness,” said a soturion, gesturing to the space around us. “Once you have had a chance to wash up, and take some refreshments, you may seek an audience with His Majesty to officially announce your arrival. You have access to visit the Throne Room from your suites.”
“We shall,” Imperator Hart said. “Tell His Majesty I shall be with him shortly to thank him for his gracious hospitality.”
The soturion nodded, and then one of Imperator Hart’s guards began directing us to our private apartments.
“Might I stay with my sister?” I asked suddenly.
A middle-aged woman who seemed to be the authority around our living quarters shook her head. “There is no need, my lady. His Majesty’s abundance allows you all your own private apartments.”
My eyes met Meera’s.
She smiled grimly. “I’ll be near,” she said quietly.
I took a deep breath and watched as once again, Meera was led away from me.
One of the Emperor’s servants, a young mage approached Dario and me. “This way, my lady,” he said.
We followed the mage to the third-floor apartments I would be staying in. Down the hall was the escort’s suite for Dario.
My room was exactly as luxurious and ostentatious as I’d expected for the Palace. And yet, I somehow still found myself staring in awe at the amount of gold and gilded surfaces that surrounded me. The walls had been painted a deep ruby like the outer courtyard columns. My ceiling was a bright white with a black border, and in the center, of course, there was another gilded Valalumir. Gauzy violet curtains blew lazily against the opened window.
“Thank you,” I said, dismissing the mage, until I was alone with Dario.
He took a deep breath, his eyes softening as his mouth opened. But there was a sudden rap on the door, and all at once, his face returned to the somewhat harsh, neutral expression he wore when guarding me.
Dario opened the door, and we were greeted by one of the Emperor’s soturi.
He was young, in pale golden armor that looked to be one size too large for his frame.
“Lord Dario,” he said, handing a small scroll over. “As an active soturion in the Palace, you have been relieved of all weapons. Your noble now has the Emperor’s protection, and it is pertinent that you meet with Numeria’s Turion at once.”
My stomach twisted, but this had been expected and I nodded for him to go ahead.
Left alone in my room, and coming off of recent commands from Imperator Hart, I had no choice but to follow orders and prepare for my first—in person—visit to the Throne Room.
An hour later, Dario returned, announcing it was time for our audience with Emperor Theotis. He led me outside where I joined our entourage. Imperator Hart and Lady Kenna stood at the front, flanked by their guards, followed by Arkturion Kane. There was a row of soturi in their gleaming black leather, but without any swords at their hips or on their backs. I spotted Senator Oryyan walking with his wife and Lady Amalthea. Rhyan followed them, and then two more sets of soturi separated him from Meera and Aiden, and then me and Dario. In addition to our own soturi the Emperor’s men were following closely.
I counted each step in my head as we walked, mentally bringing together the pen-and-parchment images I’d kept locked away in my mind with the reality of walking through the long, winding Palace. It took all the focus I had not to look in every nook and corner we passed, to not pray I’d catch a glimpse of a chayatim. Of Jules. I didn’t trust my reaction—didn’t trust I wouldn’t run for her right then and there and screw the rest of the plans.
Instead, I focused on the fact that my memorization of the Palace’s size and the number of steps needed to cross it had been precise. Each room was exactly as I’d counted. I slowed as we climbed the grand staircase leading to the hall before the Throne Room. And only then I realized the small flaw in the plan. My heart had already started to pound, a small heat building inside of me. We were near the shield, and already the Valalumir could sense it.
At the top of the stairs, I watched as the pattern on the floor changed beneath my feet from purple to the mix of black and white tile. It was exactly as I’d seen it in thenahashim’s vision. Sweat began to bead at the nape of my neck as we were stopped by the Emperor’s herald. Our names were collected.
My chest heaved. The Valalumir grew warmer inside me. The large doors opened and the herald began to list off the names of His Highness Imperator Hart’s entourage, methodically naming us all and our titles, one by one.
I stepped into the Throne Room, at once overwhelmed and dizzy. The shard called out to me—I was too close. It called out to the light inside me, the part of itself that had once made it whole. Staring at the black and white marble floor, my eyes slowly, carefully began to rise to see the white marble columns that stood every few feet. The golden throne sat on the opposite end of the room from where we stood.
On either side of the Emperor were two soturi, each wearing a golden Valalumir tattoo on their cheek. They looked exactly as they had when I’d looked through the snake’s eyes. And then I dared look up. I made eye contact with Emperor Theotis—the man who’d ruined my life. He looked just as I’d remembered, when he’d entered Bamaria only months ago—when he’d forced me into the arena with Haleika, and then forced Rhyan to watch. His thick white eyebrows were drawn together, his white beard trimmed short. His gold and purple velvet robes were draped across the throne, flowing off the dais, but rather than touch the floor, the ends spread across a long purple rug.
