Val moved to step in front of Alanna, but Mathos beat him to it, his deep voice heavy with contempt. “What do you want?”
Dornar glared at him, his copper-colored scales gleaming at his wrists. “I seem to remember that you take hierarchy very seriously… son.”
The scales on Mathos’s arms rippled higher, rimmed in gold and gleaming like rubies, as his nostrils flared, but he held still.
Dornar stepped closer, unconcerned by the violence written on Mathos’s face as he continued, “You may call me Lord High Chancellor.”
Val glanced at Mathos. Something was going on here that he didn’t understand. Some extra layer of animosity between the two men. But whatever it was, it didn’t explain why there were soldiers in the room.
Swallowing his desire to rip Dornar apart, he forced out the words, “Why are you here, Lord High Chancellor?”
“Yes, whyarewe here?” Ramiel asked in an irritated voice. “You got us all out of bed before dawn and rushed us to the Hawks’ quarters… for what?”
Dornar softened his shoulders and settled his face into a polite smile as he turned toward the Supreme Justice. “The king and I were worried for the queen.”
Ramiel’s face hardened. “Are you suggesting that harm would come to her in the middle of the temple?”
“Not at all.” Dornar laughed coldly. “I’m suggesting that when the king takes the queen back to the palace later today, he would like to be certain that no one has taken advantage of her. Yesterday Val swore the queen was innocent and that he had not seduced her. We would like reassurance that hasn’t changed.”
Dornar glanced up at Alanna with a calculated grin that Val was certain was intended to be charming. “Apologies, Your Majesty, I don’t mean any disrespect to you.” He gave her a soft look. “We’re merely concerned for your well-being amongst these unscrupulous, dishonored former soldiers.”
Val could see Ramiel considering Dornar’s words. Clearly the king would never accept another man’s bastard, and by agreeing to oversee the challenge, the Nephilim had tacitly confirmed that they would ensure the outcome was acceptable to the winning party. Which might be Ballanor.
Dornar settled back onto his heels, his gaze turning the tiniest degree smug before he blanked his face. If they had walked in on Val in Alanna’s bed, there would have been an execution planned instead of a challenge.
The Supreme Justice turned his speculative gaze on the Hawks, his purple eyes so deep and intent that it felt as if he could see the truth whether they spoke or not. It was almost a relief when Ramiel looked away to focus on Alanna.
That relief faded as quickly as it had risen when the Supreme Justice spoke. “My dear, did you sleep in your own bed last night?”
Alanna looked pale, but strong and certain, her voice clear as she replied, “I did.”
Ramiel nodded. “Truth.”
Val held his breath. All Ramiel had to do was ask if she’d slept alone, and it would all be over.
“And did anyone come into this room who should not have been here?” Ramiel asked, his eyes flicking briefly toward the Hawks.
Val let his breath out in relief. Ramiel was giving them a chance. It all came down to the truth in Alanna’s heart. And Val trusted her completely.
She smiled softly at Val as she replied, “Absolutely no one came into this room who should not have.” Her eyes narrowed as she turned to glare at Dornar. “Until now, that is.”
Ramiel gave her a warm look, almost of pride, as he nodded. “Truth.” He turned to Val. “Come with me, and we’ll get you some armor. The rest of you”—he gave Dornar a hard look—“get back to your own rooms.”
Val wanted to refuse, wishing desperately that he could take Alanna in his arms and reassure her, wishing that they could have spent the morning together, a last few hours before the challenge.
But he couldn’t refuse Ramiel after everything he’d done for them. And he couldn’t jeopardize their one chance to be free of Ballanor.
He gave Alanna one last, long look, hoping she understood, and then joined Ramiel at the door. They watched Dornar and the Blues file out of the room and, flanked by a squad of hard-faced Clibanarii, march down the corridor and back to the hostel.
Tristan stepped up to join him as the last footsteps died away, and they turned to follow Ramiel as he led them out and in the opposite direction.
They passed in silence through massive rooms. Some were filled, floor to ceiling, with ornate carvings that resembled magnificent curling calligraphic scripts. Others were shady retreats flanking serene courtyards planted with a riot of cultured shrubs and flowers. But all of them were beautiful.
Eventually they emerged into the most opulent and comfortable barracks that Val had ever seen.
They were in a spacious cobbled courtyard with a row of archery targets lined neatly down one long wall. To the far side was a massive stable block, and opposite it were rows of neat quarters. Single rooms on the ground floor looked like officer quarters, each with its own entrance flanked by pots of flowering autumn aster and crocus. A splash of gorgeous purple next to every door.
They walked over the courtyard and into a huge mess hall filled with rows of long tables and benches. A few Clibanarii warriors, both men and women, were already sitting and eating quietly, and the air was rich with the smell of hot bread and frying bacon.
