“And Lady Lyriana?” Meera challenged. “She’s not committed a single crime. All she did was rescue her sister. She’s my protector and my escort.” Her eyes softened.
“She assisted a forsworn in banished territory. She’s also wanted for questioning,” Dario said.
“Where I was being held captive!” Meera shouted. “Rhyan was on a mission to fight akadim from the South—surely that grants him immunity?”
“Hmm.” Dario shrugged. “No, it doesn’t. Both Imperators seem to have taken an interest in his … affairs.” His dark eyes flicked to me. “And your sister’s.”
Rhyan sucked in a breath, his jaw tensed.
Dario took notice. “Interesting. Unfortunately, I must do as my Imperator commands and bring them before him,” he said. “If they’re as innocent as you say, they have nothingto worry about. Though considering they both attacked His Highness’s soturi on Gryphon’s Mount, they maybe should be worried.”
“And me?” Meera asked. “Am I wanted for questioning?”
Dario’s eyes narrowed. “We’ve been ordered to bring in anyone we find assisting them.”
Aiden had paused before Meera, looking annoyed at the entire situation.
Suddenly, she lunged forward. She was bound, but her hand was perfectly in line with Aiden’s stave.
“No!” Dario yelled, and pushed Aiden aside, just before Meera reached him. She’d been so close.
Aiden hissed through gritted teeth, his fingers tightening over the sun and moon wood. “Did you really think that would work?”
“Worth a try,” Meera said, as Dario gripped her shoulders and sat her against the wall beside Rhyan.
“Can we not with these stupid games?” Dario said, rolling his eyes. “This whole thing is a fucking headache I don’t need.”
“I’ve heard you’re used to those!” I snapped, remembering how Rhyan often described Dario as being too drunk to get out of bed for training. “Particularly in the morning.”
A surprised laugh escaped his lips as his head snapped to Rhyan, who was staring down at his lap. “Myself to fucking Moriel.” Dario pulled out his dagger, and tossed it in the air, catching the hilt and tossing it again. “Sure. He told you I enjoy my drink. That I enjoy actual fun, unlike some present company. But did he tell you anything real? Did he ever tell you about the tournament? The Alissedari that he simplyhadto win? You know how someone wins an Alissedari, don’t you?”
Rhyan’s face fell, all the color drained.
I’ve killed before … My own people when I fled. I killed one of my friends with my bare hands. My friend.
The words he’d spoken to me once in despair, the first time I’d woken him from one of his nightmares.
Now Rhyan was staring ahead, tears in his eyes.
“Look, you can see it all over her face,” Dario sneered, his accent still heavy. “She doesn’t know. We’ve got time to kill. How about a bedtime story?”
Rhyan’s lips were quivering, his chest heaving.
“Stop it,” I said. “Just stop it.”
“Why? Don’t you want to know these things? You should, especially if you’re going to listen to his stories about us. You might as well hear one of ours.” Dario clapped his hands, like he was on stage. “Time for the tale of the Alissedari.”
“Dario, please,” I said again. “Don’t do this now.”
“No? No. I think now’s perfect,” Dario snapped. “Once upon a time there was a boy named Garrett. Garrett.” He paused, letting the name hang in the air, echoing against the walls. “Did he ever mention that name to you, my lady?”
I lifted my chin, my lips pressed tightly together. Rhyan had mentioned Garrett once. Only once. When he thought I was asleep. I felt hollow.
“No?” Dario lifted his eyebrows. “Well, Garrett was one of Rhyan’s best friends. Like we used to be. His father served on the Glemarian Council with Rhyan’s. Like my father used to, before he was killed.” He paused, looking murderous. “Garrett was a soturion—quite a good one, actually—could have been Arkturion one day. He trained with Rhyan. At least he did until the Alissedari. You’re from the South,” he said, as if this was an insult to my intelligence. “I should have clarified before. But just in case you didn’t know, an Alissedari is a tournament fought on gryphon—”
“I know what it is,” I seethed.
Dario held his hands up in mock surrender. “Oh, she islearn-ed.Well, then you must know how this will end, sinceyou already know the victor is created in one of two ways. They’re the last one standing, or, the first to kill. Guess which way our dear friend won?Go on, my lady. Guess which way.”
