They were in the throne room, and evidently, his Excellency was in grand spirits. The faint laughter filtering faintly through the doors made her pause. Had she ever heard the man laugh like that? It startled her to think that Kai—because he was in there too, as confirmed by the Emperor’s personal guards before her—would be the reason for such joy.
Ah. Because of dragons. Of course. Kai was perhaps the only person in all the Empire who could make His Excellency so joyous now. Ironic, considering that Kai blamed the Emperor for the massacre of the dragons in the Purge. How surreal to think that Kai would now offer to bring back those dragons as a gift for the man he had scorned before. Then again, it was hard to defy the will of the most powerful monarch in the land.
“I need to go in,” she said. “They’re waiting for me.”
The guard looked her up and down with a skeptical eye. “You?”
She ref
She wasn’t mistaken. This was Noemi, the woman who had slapped Violetta that day in the market district. Her black hair was done up in elegant style with delicate silver links decorating her tresses, but there was no mistaking the poison-green eyes and the beauty mark by her mouth, nor the sour, sharp expression creeping into her gaze. Evening darkness had fallen, but the torch light was plenty enough to see by. Anzi knew. This was her. And for some reason, she had the emerald brooch in her hair that Violetta had bought for her and held onto. Anzi could believe that young harem girls were forced to lend pretty baubles over to their senior sisters on demand, but something was wrong. Not only was Letti nowhere to be seen, but she had disappeared from the harem quarters altogether. After another fight—or more abuse, rather—had she run off somewhere so no one could find her? If Noemi had slapped her again and left another mark, Letti would hardly show herse
“Anzi?” She looked up. “Yes.” “I’d like to sit with you.” “It’s not comfortable.” “I’m not looking to be comfortable.” She scooted to the side and made space for Kai on the stone steps that led out to the rear of the palace grounds. This area wouldn’t open up to the milling citizens just yet, not until the gala was truly underway and all the wealthy elite decided they wanted to admire the beautiful scenery here. But she had bullied her way past the guards with a cold look, and surprisingly, they had let her go on through. She wondered if they knew who she was somehow. Kai settled down next to her, but she said nothing to him as the silence stretched on. It was dark now, so she could pretend she didn’t see him staring at the side of her face as if she had the map of the world on it. She didn’t want to talk. He should know that just by looking at her. And he did, it seemed. He remained quiet too, until finally she began to wonder if perhaps she did want him to speak after all. It
When it happened, there was no warning. “You’re leaving?” Anzi demanded. “Now? But you never said—” Kai’s hand rose to cradle the side of her face, and for once, she didn’t shoot him a glare or make a single complaint to keep up appearances. She was too stunned to remember to, as he stood there with a small entourage of similarly dressed men standing behind him, all of them waiting in silence. No, two of them were women, now that she looked more closely into the darkness, all various shades of bronzed skin with their heads and shoulders wrapped in the style of the desert nomads. Bodyguards? They had weapons at their hips and slung on their backs. She had never seen them before tonight. Where had they been all this time? When her narrowed eyes continued to dart around at his companions’ silhouettes over his shoulder, he turned her face back to him with a gentle nudge. He only stared at her, nothing else, and for a mo
“Go in and look. I’ve got everything prepared for you.” Anzi hesitated outside the chamber. This one was different from the ones she had seen before, but then again, she had only been to the main hall, the egg chamber, and the small sleeping quarters so far. With how cavernous and extensive this underground system had to be, she knew there was much she was missing. This would be one of those things. “Something wrong, girl? You nervous?” How could she not be? There was a dragon egg hatching in there—two—and she wasn’t ready. Not with all her doubts. She couldn’t do this knowing she would have to train her dragon into absolute submission as Bastien had made so clear. A dragon, noble, thinking, feeling, reduced to a pet. She couldn’t do this. Not that he knew what she was thinking. He was no doubt chalking her hesitance up to nerves. She hated that he would think so lowly of her, that he would use th
Bastien had no authority over her. He was neither an officer nor did he hold some bloated rank in the Emperor’s court, and his only purpose here was to acquire dragons. An old man with a young face who fancied himself an innovator, a laughing jester who thought himself so high above everyone else just because he had been gifted with immortality obtained from dragons. And where was his dragon, anyway? What noble creature was so unlucky to be bonded to a man like Bastien? She ached for whoever it was, felt their pain as real and sharp as if they were shackled and bound before her very eyes. To all the burning, dark hells with him. He might have gotten away with tormenting innumerable others, but he would not lay a hand on the ones she was responsible for. Not on her life. When he reached over to stop her from opening the egg, she shot up from her seat and lashed out, hard and fast. But he
Anzi didn’t stay at the palace. She returned only for a quick bath and a woolen blanket that one of the palace maids had left in her room when the weather took a turn for the frigid. When she departed and reached the wall, she flashed her vouch token at the guard who didn’t seem to recognize her. “It’s too late to go through the gate,” he said. “It’ll wake up everyone with the tremors. Go up the wall and they’ll show you how to get down.” She nodded and followed the direction of his pointing finger. The guardhouse wasn’t far; she had already been expecting to be sent there. For officials and important guests, of course the stone golems could open the rumbling gates in the middle of the night, but for a single soldier? Never. Maybe if she had revealed the sleeping Netra-hau inside the bundled blanket in her arms and informed the guard who she was, he wouldn’t have hesitated to afford her the courtesy, but she didn’t want that. She want
“How are you feeling?” Anzi needn’t have asked. Letti’s sunken eyes and inability to get up when she had entered was indication enough, but on the other hand, she looked far better than she had before. Just yesterday, there had still been hints of bruises around her arms, but they were now as pale as ever as they lay folded on her chest over the sheets. Indeed, she looked almost at ease if not for the more obvious signs of her condition, and the harem girl sent her a beaming smile so sweet it hurt her heart. Too bubbly by far for someone who could have died just days earlier. “Anzi! You’re here.” “I was here yesterday, but you were sleeping.” She grasped the back of the wooden chair by the wall and dragged it over on its rear legs to Letti’s bedside before sitting on it. “You don’t look well.” The girl clucked her tongue. “Never tell a lady that,” she scolded. “That’s just another way of saying th
Anzi’s chin jerked up when the Emperor grabbed a fistful of her hair, but when another blow smashed across her ribs, she doubled over again with a loud wheeze and stumbled back against the pillar once more. She didn’t get the chance to straighten up on her own before a fist came crashing into her face in a swooping upward arc, the force of it so great it lifted her off her feet and sent the back of her head crashing against the stone. She didn’t know if her skull had caved in, but it felt that way as she gasped for air past the thick streams of blood dribbling from both nostrils and her mouth. The skin on the back of her head had broken as well; a wet sensation spread across the rear of her scalp and began to clump her tresses. “You’re still standing! They did tell me you’re a hardy one.” She didn’t know what he hit her with this time. A punch, a kick, it could have been either, but it