She and Roshan have both mistaken my forgiveness for weakness.
I walk back into the room to my now cold tea. My appetite has disappeared, so I head into the bathing room, where I perform my morning ablutions and reach for my forging gear. If I’m not a prisoner, I might as well try to get in some exercise and hammer the shit out of something. The sooner I get back to my usual activities, the sooner I can find a way to escape my cage.
“Lady Suraya.” I turn, recognizing one of the guards. “The king commands your presence immediately in the throne room. The traitors have been found.”
I peer owlishly at him, anger slivering through me at the brusque order. Can I risk ignoring an official summons? How furious would Roshan be? But then I nod. Being sullen or peevish won’t prove a thing. I intend to show my warden of a king that I’m not cowed... that he hasn’t beaten me.
When I arrive in the throne room, the silence is ominous.
Roshan is seated on his throne, his face inscrutable. My heart jumps at the sight of him before my brain can catch up, and I steel myself. Aran stands beside him. There are three men kneeling, two dressed in the house colors of Antares, one in the Imperial House colors. Sands, is that the spy? The boy looks much too young to be a palace guard. I glance around the room, noting that the aldermen of many of the houses are also here.
“Your Majesty,” I greet, and bow my head. I take my usual place next to Aran, who shoots me a small smile that I ignore.
“Good, my Starkeeper is here,” Roshan says. His face seems harsher and more draconian, all angles and scraped hollows, nothing like the man I know. The possessive emphasis onmydoesn’t go unnoticed, but I keep my expression blank.
His sentiment is not out of affection—it’s a declaration to those in attendance that I serve at his whim. But if the king expects me to perform like a trained monkey, he’s in for a rude awakening. I grind my jaw as his voice rings through the hall. “These men are convicted of treason and betraying their solemn oaths to Oryndhr by spying on the king’s movements for an enemy known as the oracle, and they will die by the Imperial House’s swift justice.”
Every eye in the hall settles on me. I frown. We’re not even offering them a chance to speak in their defense? Has Roshan even found out who the oracle is?
I lift my brows and hold up both hands. “I’m not sure what you expect me to do,” I say in a low voice. “My magic is bound, remember? Remove these and I’ll consider it.”
The king stares at me, brown eyes baleful, and I force back a shudder at the heartless expression on his face. As long as I’ve known him, I’ve never seen such a cruel, viperous look. He reminds me so much of Javed.
Roshan nods to his cousin, who steps closer. Aran sketches the rune for incinerate and my cuffs ignite with power. I feel the magic gather inside me even though I’ve done nothing to summon it. Ribbons of iridescent heat curl around my fingertips beyond my own volition, and my eyes widen in shock.
It feels as though I’m watching from a distant vantage point while someone else controls my body. One of the men starts sobbing, and the stench of urine permeates the hall as a woman screams out for mercy—the boy’s mother, is my guess.
“Continue,” Roshan says, grim and implacable.
“Aran, what is this?” I gasp, trying to move and finding my legs glued to the floor. I’m an automaton, my will not my own, and the feeling isterrifying.
He doesn’t answer, his face furrowed with concentration, and I watch in utter disbelief asmymagic envelops the men, evaporating them in seconds. I slump backward, numb to the wails and cries permeating the hall, staring at Aran with horror.
It’s an abomination... a gross perversion of my power.
“What have you done?” I whisper.
The answer comes from the king. “What needed to be done. Peace must be secured. The Starkeeper is a subject of the crown and your gifts belong to the crown.”
I shake my head, unable to believe what I’m hearing. My magic ismine. “Roshan, what has come over you?” I ask. “I’m not a thing to be controlled.”
“No? What do you think we just did?” His reply is gutting.
In shock, I lift my hands to ward him off. My throat clogs with dread as his guards all raise their weapons in unison, pointed at me. I feel so backed into a corner that Itryto fight back, try to use my magic to incapacitate them so that I’m not in their crossfire, just long enough for me to have a window to escape.
But my magic doesn’t respond.
As if he has all the time in the world, the king nods again, and Aran obediently sketches another rune. This time, however, instead of pain, it’s one of torpor that sends me to my knees, curling into myself as lethargy overtakes me. Dimly, I recall Aran saying something about a suppression rune yesterday in my chambers.
It takes only a few breaths before I give in to the silken embrace of slumber.
***
ISLIP INand out of consciousness, light and dark taking turns behind my eyelids.
Sitting up, I fight the onslaught of dizziness as a handmaiden presses a chalice of cool liquid to my lips. I drink thirstily, but not so fast that I expel it. “Thank you,” I murmur when I’ve drained the glass. “How long have I been here?”
“Three days, my lady,” she says.
