“I’m trying to save him!” she cried. “Please!”
But they didn’t want to hear it. They were more concerned with keeping her quiet than saving the man leading theircountry. In their eyes, she was just another vagrant shouting lies to try and earn her people favor.
She struggled against their grip, her hair falling loose across her face. The guards held her down when they shackled her wrists together, and as they drug her away, her cries became background noise in a city too proud of itself to listen.
The cell wassmall and damp, carved into the stone beneath the eastern barracks. The air smelled of rust and old rain; each drop from the ceiling struck the floor like a metronome counting down her hours until judgement.
Jesenia sat on the cold stone floor, arms wrapped around her knees. The thin shawl she had brought from Lunareth did little against the chill.
She’d spent the night listening to the muffled echoes of soldiers changing shifts above her, the clatter of armor, the occasional barked order. All of it frightened her, because it meant they were deciding what to do with her.
She was sure she had done the right thing in trying to warn them. Her body moved before her mind could stop her, but she should have known they wouldn’t believe her. Not even if she swore it on her life or all the stars in the sky.
They had only listened long enough to have reason to arrest her.
Inciting unrest, they called it.Disturbing the peace.
Jesenia scoffed bitterly at that.What peace?The city had been cruel to the Lunarethians from the moment they walkedthrough the gates, isolating them like a sickness waiting to spread.
Many hours passed before a noise at the end of the corridor pulled her head up.
A man soon appeared outside of her cell. He wore no helmet, and even in the dim torchlight, she could tell that his armor was more ornate than the guards that arrested her, but nowhere near as intricate as the king’s. He must have been a superior. The man’s hair was reddish, eyes green, and his clean-shaven face was worn with time, but not unkind. He quietly studied her through the bars for a moment.
“What is your name, Lunarethian?” he asked at last. His voice was deep and even and commanding, but it lacked the cruelty so many of the other guards spoke to her with.
She hesitated. “Jesenia.”
He nodded, his expression something like pity. “I am the Angelicus Prime, Rohannes.”
Jesenia was quiet with confusion, for she had never heard such a title. He sensed her lack of understanding, quietly adding, “I am the highest ranking officer of theAngelicus Hastati. I am here on behalf of His Majesty.”
“I only tried to save his life,” she said sharply before he could continue. “If that is a crime in this city, then keep me in these chains.”
Rohannes tilted his head. “Chains do not make your words false.” Before Jesenia could comprehend what he said, he unlocked the door without another word. “Come.”
“Why?”
“Because you have been summoned,” he said dryly.
Jesenia stood slowly, her legs stiff from the long night. She held out her arms, expecting to be bound again, but he only gestured for her to follow him.
They walked through the narrow hallways in silence. The further they went, the warmer the air became—the scent of burning oil replacing mildew, the faint hum of voices returning. The shift from dungeon to palace felt dizzying.
The throne room doors loomed ahead, sunlight spilling through the cracks like molten gold. Jesenia squinted her eyes at it, her pulse pounding in her ears.
Rohannes rested a hand on the door handle, his voice low. “Mind your tongue, Lunarethian,” he warned, before pushing the doors open.
Light flooded around her, and Jesenia stepped forward, semi-blinded by it. She felt small beneath the vaulted, domed ceiling, the air perfumed faintly with incense, the floors polished clean until they held her reflection.
And then she saw him.
The great Angel-King Val-Theris stood near the tall windows overlooking the back side of his citadel, his wings drawn close, each feather pale fire against the dying light. He didn’t turn as she approached, but somehow she knew he’d felt her presence.
“Alive,” she whispered to herself.
“Your Majesty,” Rohannes said from behind her. “I bring you Jesenia of Lunareth, as requested.”
Jesenia was unsure whether to bow or speak, so she simply stood in the center of the room. When he finally turned to face her, his expression was unreadable.
