Iyana looked at him incredulously. “Your national sport, that you play in a gigantic arena, is calledcircle run? What do you do? Spin in a circle? Whoever is least dizzy wins?”
Talon laughed while Emmeric frowned. Zane felt the corners of his lips turn up. Emmeric grumbled, “It’s more complicated than that.”
“Athusia has been playing it for hundreds of years,” Zane said. “I’m sure there’s a scholar somewhere who could tell you why they chose ‘circle run’ instead of something more interesting.”
“Well,” said Talon, “you run in a circle. Seems straightforward to me.”
“You don’t justrun in a circle,” Emmeric said, throwing a hand up in frustration. “That would be running track! And you know that.” He jabbed his finger at Talon. “We played together in the youth league for years.”
“As much as I love seeing Emmeric riled up,” said Iyana, “I honestly don’t care about any sports. So, you can explain it, but I can’t promise I’ll listen.”
“When this is over, we’ll go watch a game,” Emmeric said softly. This was concerning to Zane. Not only because he was obviously much closer to the prisoner than he’d made it seem, but also Iyana could be walking towards her execution. Zane didn’t want to know how her death would affect Emmeric, or if he’d go to any extremes to save her. If he was honest with himself, he never believed Emmeric’s story of her as simply a village girl he’d met in passing. Something happened those couple of days he was in Imothia. He had an inkling Emmeric was involved in this entire ‘star’ business, but it wasn’t clear how.
“We’ll see,” Iyana responded, haughtily. Zane hoped she gave Uther whatever he wanted so she’d have the option to properly turn down Emmeric’s offer.
They crested a hill heading into the inner ring, and the castle finally came into view. The tops of the spires were visible from anywhere in the capital, but this particular vantage point was the only one where the entire castle was visible. It was more fortress than palace, and not pretty with roses and ivy, like in fairy tales. This was gray, dark, imposing. Arrow slits dotted the outside. Portcullises were at every entrance, with no less than four guards per entry point. Each of those entryways had a murder hole in the ceiling, hot oil on standby should anyone try the impossible and storm the castle.
Iyana’s eyes were wide, unblinking. If she thought the arena was gigantic, then the castle was in another category altogether. Zane was almost embarrassed to walk her through the dank, musty halls which hadn’t seen proper upkeep in the past two decades. Only the rooms Uther resided in or conducted business in were kept in a clean and orderly fashion, with comfortable furniture and art on the walls. He found himself wanting to ask what her opinion would be of the throne he found so garish.
“In the name of Imera,” Iyana breathed. “Is that…?”
She was looking at a three-story brick building taking up an entire block in the inner ring, an interruption of the extravagant mansions. Rows of windows lined the wall facing the street and were all currently open, allowing the natural light and cool early autumn air into the space. Soon, the temperature would force those windows shut for the winter. People milled about, many rushing in and out of the building. A large plot of grass in front of the doors was hosting a gathering of people dressed in robes, sitting in a circle with books open on their lap. They all boasted a tattoo of a snake eating its own tail encircling their left wrist—an ouroboros, the sigil of the healers. The symbol was etched into the lodestone of the arch above the entrance.
“The healer university,” Zane confirmed, nodding.
Iyana stared at the school and its students in unabashed wonder. “I never thought I’d actually see it.” She rubbed a thumb over her own bare left wrist, where a tattoo should be. Sighing, she turned away from the university. Zane’s stomach somersaulted. He wished he was bringing her here as a promising new student who would then take her knowledge back to her little village instead of hand delivering her to his father, who undoubtedly had some nefarious plan.
Too soon they were at the gates, unmounting their horses. Iyana was now starting to appear concerned. Emmeric and Talon were both attempting to keep their poker faces on, but Zane could tell they were panicking. Emmeric more so.
“Are you going to behave? Or do I need to tie you up again?” Zane asked Iyana.
She raised her chin in a show of defiance. “I’ll go with you peacefully.” Any rapport they may have developed on the road disappeared once they passed the threshold of the castle. Geoff and Gordon walked ahead of them, leading the way, Zane staying close to Iyana’s side should she decide to try something foolish, and Emmeric and Talon were behind—hands on their swords, ever at the ready.
A page boy streaked past them to announce their arrival to the emperor. Once at the enormous wooden doors barring the entrance to the throne room, the twins branched off, and each took a post on either side of the door. Zane felt something grab his wrist. Turning, he saw Talon pleading him with his eyes.
“Can’t you do anything?” Talon whispered.
Without a word, Zane glanced pointedly at Talon’s hand wrapped around his own, then back at his face. Talon got the silent message, dropping his hand quickly. He didn’t ask for aid again. He needed to remember his place in this castle. What might have been okay outside of the capital would not go over well in Athusia. Not with his father’s eyes and ears everywhere.
The doors opened at his signal. Zane gently grasped Iyana’s arm and marched her into the ornate, bright throne room. Emmeric and Talon both stayed behind. A resonant boom sounded as the doors closed behind them. Zane suppressed the flinch, his court mask slipping into place, feeling as though walking through those doors had cleaved his life into two distinct sections. He knew he’d look back at this day as one that defined his entire future. Things would never be the same.
Iyana kept her chin high, staring down the tyrant sitting on the throne. She had more courage than any of the others in the room, including Zane. Uther’s simpering advisors and other high-ranking nobles were in attendance today, because it wasn’t Zane who would be punished this time.
They halted near the base of the dais, Uther watching their approach with a shrewd expression. Zane bowed low. He hated prostrating himself in such a fashion, but Uther expected it of him with others in the room, and a slight now would ensure punishment later. Iyana stood stock straight, feet still bare and dusty, in an overtshow of defiance. The emperor’s eyes sparked with anger, but he quickly schooled his expression.
“Prince Zane,” Uther said, “I did not expect you to return with your quarry so soon.”
“I did not either, Your Majesty,” Zane responded. “But Otho must have been smiling upon me, as she entered Huton the same time I did. We happened upon her in the streets.”
“A great stroke of fortune, indeed,” Uther replied, rubbing his bead thoughtfully. “Tell me your name, girl.” Uther neveraskedfor information, he demanded.
“Iyana,” she said, proudly.
“And your surname.” She offered no answer, only inching her chin slightly higher, caramel eyes staring daggers at the most powerful man in the room. Uther smiled cruelly, one side of his lips curling. “No matter, you will tell me eventually. You hail from Imothia.”
“Yes,” she said. Zane was unsure if she was purposefully omitting honorifics, or if it was because she was unfamiliar with court etiquette. He would bet money it was the former.
The emperor’s sly grin grew wider.This can’t be good,Zane thought.
