My voice sounds strange in my ears, just above a whisper. I barely feel the floor beneath my feet.
My heart thumps and my vision goes in and out. Then the horizon tilts sideways.
“May the truth be revealed,” I add.
It’s the last words I speak before everything goes dark.
LVIII.
Torren
Kerasea faints, and I catch her in my arms.
“Julian, send word to the priests of the god of protection: the conclave has concluded,” I say. “Everyone will leave today.”
Before anyone can react, Julian nods and walks out of the throne room.
“We will convene a special session in the Senate Hall for the remainder of the resolutions, but the status quo pends until then.” Terrance gathers his toga, but he speaks in the quietest volume I’ve ever heard from him.
My own reappointment, along with the rest of the laws, will wait until later this year. That is fine, as I have greater concerns.
“Everyone is to remain in this room,” I say. “Senator Medea, you are under arrest by order of the Praetorian on behalf of the Senate Council. Disobey at your peril.”
I scoop up Kera in my arms and carry her. Her head dips back and she’s fully unconscious, but I still notice the gazes of the senators as I walk out of the room. Between taking her hand and caring for her now, I have announced that we have a connection. Dread pools in my stomach. This relationship will have repercussions—I’m certain of it. But I have to see her to safety now, regardless of the consequences.
“No one is to go in or out,” I say to the two sentries standing guard. “On pain of death.”
“Yes, Praetorian,” they say.
They both salute, even though it means that if I find anyone out of the throne room, I will lay the blame on them and summarily execute them.
I carry Kerasea up to my bedchamber and then shift her weight so I can open my door. She’s still stained in blood, but she looks so different from the priestess who could’ve killed a senator moments ago.
I lay her down on my bed and brush aside a piece of her hair. There’s no possibility she’s Elusian. She is the daughter of Osiris Vestal; she looks just like the High Priest. It’s simply the aura of their palace intruding on my thoughts. That’s all.
I look up from her face and spot Julian in the doorway.
He shouldn’t be here.
“I thought I gave you a command,” I say, standing straight.
“Which I followed,” he replies. “I sent two house servants down the mountain. I thought you’d need my assistance here more than me playing messenger.”
He’s right. I do. Julian is the only one I can trust.
“Watch her for me,” I order. “Stand guard and kill anyone who tries to enter.”
His eyes search mine, but he nods. “Yes, Praetorian.”
If Julian is surprised by my command, he doesn’t show it. He’s serious for once, but I suppose everyone was chastened by the High Priestess’s display of raw power.
With Kerasea now secured, I can begin my search of Medea’s chambers. I need to find evidence to corroborate Kerasea’s accusation or all of this will be for nothing. Because she accused a senator, I need both testimony and evidence to convince the Council to convene the Verity Guild.
Medea chose the fifth-floor room once belonging to the king’s favorite wife. It is the grandest guest chamber in Jubilee aside from the king’s. No one stays in that bedchamber, as everyone claims the room is still steeped in his blood magic.
I’m starting to believe that’s true.
Medea’s sentry took the room of the king’s first son, and her page took the chambers of the second heir. None of the king’s early children or wives had his same healing magic, so they all died hundreds of years ago.
