“The king demands an audience with you, Lalla Ameirah,” the hulking guard dressed in Saber purple said the moment I opened the door and gazed up at him with wide eyes. Fear I didn’t entirely need to fake, only amplify.
Be careful. Do as he says, no matter the price.
I curved my shoulders inward and followed the guard, even though I felt like a criminal sent to the gallows.
Play along. Stay alive.
CHAPTER 16
AMEIRAH
The vast domed hall where the council held their meetings was almost as old as Morysen itself. History had been written into law by clergy and gentry members sitting at the ancient, curved desks that followed the circular room. Legends had been born on the chequered purple and white floor, the colours of the two mighty houses that built the city—Saber and Naji. Those two families were the source of a feud that was legend itself, and had split the dynasty into two, leaving Naji to establish the white city of Wenton while the Saber family ruled from Morysen. Right now, I sided with House Naji in that feud as I tentatively crossed the cavernous room.
Eyes peered at me from dark faces, some hooded, every seat occupied as Khalid warned. I wanted to know what Khalid was doing with the prince, wanted to know what the hell they both were playing at, walking a line of treason. How did they even find out I’d be summoned to stand before the king and council?More importantly, did Varidian know? Had he sent me here into the heart of a political storm, or was this just shitty luck?
The gentry to my right watched me like colourful birds of prey in finery, jewels, and gaudy silver, their stares critical yet hungry in a way that made me feel sick. Would they pick over my bones by the time this meeting was through?
I looked to the left side for comfort, not daring to yet look King Bakshi in the eye, but my heart froze then resumed twice as quickly. Where clergy would usually sit in gold and silver trimmed white djellaba were a row of strangers in robes as black as midnight. On their breast was the silver minaret and stars sigil that had been stitched on every dark djellaba of those soldiers at Wyfell. The same sigil as the riders who attacked the Legion of Fyrevein, the riders who’d been searching for me. For Raheema—the sky blue that was so rare it had made them suspicious.
Cold trickled from the nape of my neck down my spine and I couldn’t fight a shiver. I took slow, measured steps even as everything raced inside me, blood pumping furiously, my brain rushing in circles, trying to predict what the king wanted and how I could avoid giving it to him.
If Khalid was right and Bakshi wanted my power…
“Ameirah,” the king himself said with a warm smile as his burly guard left me in the middle of the room, my numb legs halting on a golden star that marked dead centre, light from the many torches reflecting off its shiny, gilded surface. I felt like a criminal on trial, but I’d done nothing wrong, broken no rules. “Thank you for joining us at such an early hour.”
Play along. Stay alive.
I made myself smile, thought of Varidian and Rawiya and Raheema so a glimmer of light entered my eyes and made it believable. “Of course. Anything for my family.”
I could have gone theanything for my esteemed kingroute, but he’d never fall for simpering bullshit. But a girl abandoned by her family, given a second chance with royals and grateful to not be alone? That, he might buy.
Except, the king’s eyes narrowed, and he sat back in the tall, gilded throne as he assessed me. Amber eyes, the same colour Varidian’s were before the storm turned them topaz blue. I straightened my back, keeping my expression neutral, a little curious, even as my heart raced and sweat pricked my palms and my upper lip. His eyes had narrowed on my leathers, I realised, not on my face.
Thecrimsonleathers. With the twin snakes of House Marrakchi embroidered on the legs, the breast. Shit. I should have remained in my sleep clothes, because the way Bakshi’s nostrils flared, his mouth pressing thin, was an icy omen. He didn’t say a thing, and I wouldn’t acknowledge it unless he pointed out the obvious alliance with my mother in law’s family. Red vipers, in a city where everything was violet wolves.
Play along. Stay alive.I took slow breaths, the dry air of the council chamber at once as comforting as a library and as unsettling as a court room. I tried not to jump to conclusions. And yet… the council was in full attendance. I’d been escorted here by an armed guard. And it was the middle of the night.
“The city is abuzz with news of what happened in Tourlestyn and Daurith, so I have no doubt you’ve heard that dark forces sweep across our land.”
I nodded.
“If we’re going to push them back, and reclaim the cities invaded, we need the greatest powers in our land to work together.”
The back of my neck tingled. “Who are they?” I dared to breathe. “The people who attacked Daurith?”
“A small group of rebel clergy leaders,” the king replied with a shake of his head. “That’s why you’ll see new faces already in the mosques of Morysen, and in all of Ithanys’s great cities. We don’t know what they want with Tourlestyn, or why they targeted Daurith, but no group who takes a city by force has good intentions.”
My thoughts exactly, which was why I didn’t trust any of these black-clad clergy. I doubted they were clergy at all, and their presence here told me everything I needed to know. They answered to the king.
Hesent that legion to Red Manniston.Heordered that farmer be killed in Wyfell, those warnings spread across the whole empire.
And if he’d forced all imams from their positions, not only was it heinous, it was… interesting. Why did he need to replace them, like he’d tried to replace Raheema as my wyvern? It was an effort to keep the thoughts off my face, to widen my eyes with shock, part my lips with horror and disbelief.
“But they—those people who attacked our cities, our wyverns, areclergy?They have a foothold everywhere, in every town and village.” The words were bitter, my stomach souring, but I let more horror shine through my eyes as I breathed, “They could take over Strava or the Red Star. They could take Morysen.”
“Not any longer, so calm your fear, daughter.” Bakshi’s eyes were soft, sympathetic. Lies and trickery, no matter how convincing it looked.
I swallowed, and made myself look at the row of dark clergy. The bastards who were the real threat but presented as the remedy. “You’re right.” I softened the line of my soldiers. “We’re safer with them gone. Theyaregone, aren’t they?”
