“No harder for me than anyone else,” I interjected, rubbing at my chest.
“You’ve withdrawn.”
“I’m always withdrawn.” I was too self-aware for my own good.
“Fair. But you’re spending all your time in the city, sparking Maryn’s rage, or burying your head in books. Get back into the training yard with me and the guards. Or better yet, with Felaf.Stars knows she's still got a lot to learn. Teach her what Hector taught?—”
“Enough, Alekko.” I glared at him in warning.“There’s no point in speaking of the dead.”
“It’s been a year, Raithe,” he said quietly.
“And?”
“We’ve all mourned, the queendom included. You should?—”
“There’s nothing to mourn,” I said stiffly, despising the twinge in my gut.
Alekko sighed. “Someday, someone’s going to break through that wall of yours. I’ve been trying for years, but I’ll be thrilled just to see it happen.”
I scoffed. “I’m Chosen, remember? It’s too late for me.”
It had always been too late for me.
Chapter 9
Raithe
Eleven years ago,the queen regent destroyed the mile-long bridge that connected the palace skyland to the royal city. Antares was made of dozens of collective floating lands, tiered and stacked, with hundreds of thousands of inhabitants.
The safest way for the princess to get there was through an arch that existed deep below the palace skyland, far into the bedrock, and beyond the dungeons. In the absence of a queen, it was also the secret location of the royal talisman. The arch led to a nobles-only thermae—a bathhouse—down the road from the Royal Temple. Only our court knew of this arch’s location.
The thermae had been cleared and secured upon our arrival. Felaf and I guided Gregorios and Cyrene out of the thermae and onto the streets of the Baron’s District. We discreetly joined the parade led by Alekko, Vesperah, Maryn, and the royal guard, marching under an unforgiving sun.
The district belonged to the most wealthy Scorpions, where Baron Ionis Condor and his wife resided. He’d paid the queen regent a handsome sum for additional royal protection over the years as droughts and subsequent disorder overtook the skylands. With no queen to ensure rainstorms sufficientlyrefilled the water reservoirs, chaos ran the streets amok. Destitute civilians became violent, seeking basic necessities found abundant in this district.
It had made sense to bolster protection here at first, given the dense population and its rich history. But more importantly, it was home to the Royal Academy and Royal Temple—both erected during the first Age.
Soon, the other barons across the queendom followed suit, paying the queen regent more coin in exchange for martial protection to secure their cities and resources from the common people.
I witnessed the true effects of such governance.
Guards arresting a new mother who’d snuck into the district to milk a cow to give her newborn the nourishment her body could not provide.
Guards chopping off the fingers of a dehydrated boy who’d stolen a bucket of water to give to his dying sister.
Guards killing a starving man for impersonating a noble at court in an attempt to persuade the queen regent to reconsider her policies. That was the last time Maryn had held court to hear the grievances of the people.
Being an apostate was one thing—treasonous, unforgivable. But breaking a law to survive, to do what was right, or to take what should have been given… I didn’t believe such actions were worthy of cruel punishments. From the red rimming Alekko’s eyes when he ordered each sentencing, Alekko didn’t either.
Only on the sacred day of a ceremonial trial were the gates opened to this district to allow everyone to bear witness to the spectacle and “spread joy to the people,” as Maryn loved to say. Those were words, weightless and inconsequential compared to the change this queendom desperately needed.
As we paraded toward the temple, all my senses were on high alert, listening for anything nefarious. Days like today were theperfect opportunity to strike. But the roar of thousands around us was somber, sullen, and desolate.
Gaunt women and men lined the streets in black fabrics that hung from their bony bodies. Their faces were concealed with scarves and other scraps to protect their lungs from the desert-like sands. Emaciated children stood with tattered black Scorpion flags dangling from their grips. Bleak despair haunted their eyes.
When I was on my own for a time after escaping my parents, I had once been one of those children. Iwas on the other side now of such poverty, but for all my physical strength, I held no power to help them.
“On your left,” Felaf murmured.
