His head shook slightly, his attention fixed on the cards. “A few days from now, yes, but this feels different. Final.”
While I knew Basil’s dreams needed to be taken seriously, I did not want to live in fear. And if this was at all related to Jere’s marriage proposal…
“I’m going into the city tonight, with or without you.”
“Notwithout me.”
I smiled sweetly. “Well, then it looks like you’re coming too.”
Our gazes warred. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop me unless he resorted to petty, drastic measures far beneath him, he groaned. “Stars damn you, Rahz.”
“Yes!” I cheered with victory. Convincing Basil to do anything he didn’t want deserved recognition. My brother was more stubborn than the people of Taurus combined. I, his adoring sister, was always his weakness.
“We stay together, as always. But we leave when I say so, understood?”
I stuck my hand out. To others, a handshake was a simple gesture in greeting, but between us, its significance was substantial. What started as a truce between our childish pranks morphed into solemn oaths to one another.
Guilt twined around my throat. I’d upheld all our handshakes, save for one involving Basil’s best friend—the only man he warned me away from.
Chapter 3
Raithe
Alekko swipedhis forehead with the back of his hand as we emerged to the main palace grounds. “I’ll freshen up and debrief the queen regent and princess during their dinner shortly, assuming none of the barons have arrived yet ahead of the trial.”
I glanced at the stables, empty except for the royal fleet of Pegasi that filled it. “Doesn’t appear so. The ceremony is still two days away.”
Our strides were long across the once lush grounds, now nearly desert-like. Only the palace gardens were still carefully maintained, serving as a preservation of Scorpio’s environs before the curse.
“I know you took no pleasure from today,” Alekko said carefully. “I wish Maryn hadn’t?—”
“My assistance was required. There’s nothing more to it.” There wouldn’t even be anything to debrief apart from the mark I’d found. I’d only shattered the prisoner’s toes, fingers, and kneecaps before he pissed himself and passed out again.
Servants and guards averted their eyes as I passed them in the elegant halls, the fading sunlight peering through the largeapertures. The palace was in disarray for the ceremonial ball that would take place following Cyrene’s trial.
So long as the other courts deigned to attend this one, that was. At this rate, that didn’t seem likely considering it took weeks to travel by skyship across the territories and not one had arrived yet.
With Cyrene being the twelfth Chosen princess since the start of the curse, the queendom had hope. Twelve was the most sacred of numbers in our realm, after all, holding significant meaning whenever it manifested. Twelve constellations and corresponding signs made up the Zodiac. Twelve months were in an astrological year. Without a travel stone, a person was permitted only twelve days in another territory.
The rest of Gaianos still watched us with doubt, believing our queendom was permanently tainted by the curse. It was hard to disagree.
Three familiar, steady footsteps sounded from several hallways away. One belonged to a pair of high heels, the other leather sandals, and the third boots like my own.
“Raithe,” Cyrene greeted me upon rounding the corner. Her elegant black dress swished to a stop as surprise adorned her soft features. Her light brown hair was slicked back into an updo similar to the queen regent behind her. “I trust you slept well today? No…” Cyrene peeked nervously over her shoulder. “No unlawful adventures for you?”
“Princess.” I bowed swiftly. “Of course not.” My eyes shifted to Felaf, who now stood beside Cyrene. She offered a smile in greeting, one as warm as her braided blonde hair. The solar guardian was a complete contrast to the queen regent at her side, whose heels now clattered to an abrupt halt.
“I should hope not.” Maryn’s pinning blue eyes roamed me with displeasure. “He’s a guardian, Cyrene, nothing more. And one whose sleeping habits are of no consequence to you. You willaddress him as such, as you doher.” Maryn gestured vaguely to Felaf. “Go on, give it a try.”
Cyrene glanced between the queen regent and myself, uncertain. Her eyes landed on the two sharp pommels peeking over my shoulders. To her, the twin Athenian blades strapped across my back appeared as nothing more than weapons. But they were more than that. They were the strongest of blades, their unyieldingly sharp edges forged from an unbreakable metal found nowhere else in the skies.
They’d also been my constant companions for the past eleven years since winning the last Elemental Tournament. Every twelve years, the courts convened at the Equator to host a tournament for all twenty-four guardians to compete against one another. The games—deadly in nature—determined the strongest guardian, and therefore equated to bragging rights for the reigning territory. The next tournament approached in March after the first Equinox, in which I would pass the blades to a new winner if I lost.
I had no intention of letting that happen. With them, I was practically untouchable.
The Athenian blades were also a reminder to Cyrene of what Maryn only saw us guardians as: glorified bodies to do her bidding. No such sordidness existed in any of the other courts, where guardians were held in equal reverence alongside seers and royals.
“Guardian,” Cyrene said detachedly, the regent’s influence taking hold. Satisfied, Maryn gave her a curt nod.
