Warrior of the Drowned Empire (Drowned Empire #6)

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

LYRIANA

I stared out the window of the gryphon carriage, Glemaria finally fading from view. My chest still ached from Mercurial’s visit hours ago. I could barely handle having the bodice of my dress touch my skin. It felt raw and burned, though in appearance everything was soft and unblemished. But despite a strange, questioning look from Dario, I said nothing about my encounter as we left Seathorne.

I’d been forbidden from making eye contact with Rhyan in the courtyard as Artem readied and prepared each gryphon for the journey. I was, of course, separated from him. Meera, too. But I was glad for the isolation. I wasn’t ready to talk to Rhyan yet, to discuss that there was yet something else he’d been keeping from me. I’d climbed into my seat quickly, with Dario and several other soturi who would make up our guard in Numeria, and I watched the mountains and the pine trees pass by. The rain finally stopped an hour into our flight, and the weather began to warm considerably as we continued south.

A few hours later, I could see the Emperor’s Palace in the distance. I’d seen pictures of it in scrolls, and paintings in various places, and I knew the map of its interior inside and out. Still, nothing could have prepared me for the sight of it in person. The Palace seemed to cover an amount of land too immense for my mind to comprehend, dozens of courtyards full of suntrees, glittering blue waterways running through them. There were endless rows of columns painted in jewel tones of ruby, moonstone, and onyx. Golden Valalumirs sparkled above entrance ways, and on the roof of the Palace purple flags waved in the wind. I couldn’t stop staring.

I’d known that the Palace wasn’t particularly tall, only three stories high. It reminded me in some ways of the Grey Villa, Tristan’s ancestral home off in the countryside in Vertavia. Not impressive in height but incredibly long in structure. We landed in a kind of courtyard that could only be reached via flight. There were no doors in or out. A white dome of protection was cast, trapping us within the walls. I was led off the gryphon onto a white marble surface in the shape of a circle. In the center was a golden Valalumir, and behind us were ruby-toned columns. Purple tapestries hung from the top of the walls.

Three ashvan horses pulling golden wagons appeared above us, descending into the circle through a small opening in the dome, their glowing blue hooves landing in the center on the painted golden star. Then three soturi, all with golden Valalumirs tattooed on their cheeks climbed down from the ashvan, and circled us.

“Weapons presentation,” said the first soturion. He had strikingly thick, blond hair, and began walking around, looking us all up and down. He paused before Imperator Hart and bowed. “Your Highness, Welcome to Numeria. His Majesty, Emperor Theotis, is most eager to see you.”

“As I am him.” Imperator Hart waved at us. “Go on. Remove your weapons.”

I stilled. I’d been prepared for this. Known that part of the game was giving up our arms, and that Imperator Hart would be coordinating the return of them by morning. Still, it was jarring to see my sword taken by the Emperor’s men, to be without the feel of a blade against my thigh, or resting at my hip.

But there were two weapons not included in the presentation. Asherah’s armor. And my stave. Imperator Hart had them packed with his personal items.

We were searched more thoroughly by the soturi for any hidden blades, as another dozen ashvan horses appeared in the sky, all pulling golden coaches adorned with sparkling Valalumirs. Once the search was complete, we were ushered into coaches. Within minutes, we were out of the courtyard flying over the Palace.

I could make out the Nutavian Katurium in the distance. It was connected to the Palace via a waterway, half a mile in length. Tomorrow it would be covered with Lumerians attending the games.

We landed in another courtyard, much the same as the first, but this one had doors that led into apartments full of windows.

“Your Ka’s quarters for the Valabellum, Your Highness,” said a soturion, gesturing to the space around us. “Once you have had a chance to wash up, and take some refreshments, you may seek an audience with His Majesty to officially announce your arrival. You have access to visit the Throne Room from your suites.”

“We shall,” Imperator Hart said. “Tell His Majesty I shall be with him shortly to thank him for his gracious hospitality.”

The soturion nodded, and then one of Imperator Hart’s guards began directing us to our private apartments.

“Might I stay with my sister?” I asked suddenly.

A middle-aged woman who seemed to be the authority around our living quarters shook her head. “There is no need, my lady. His Majesty’s abundance allows you all your own private apartments.”

My eyes met Meera’s.

She smiled grimly. “I’ll be near,” she said quietly.

I took a deep breath and watched as once again, Meera was led away from me.

One of the Emperor’s servants, a young mage approached Dario and me. “This way, my lady,” he said.

We followed the mage to the third-floor apartments I would be staying in. Down the hall was the escort’s suite for Dario.

My room was exactly as luxurious and ostentatious as I’d expected for the Palace. And yet, I somehow still found myself staring in awe at the amount of gold and gilded surfaces that surrounded me. The walls had been painted a deep ruby like the outer courtyard columns. My ceiling was a bright white with a black border, and in the center, of course, there was another gilded Valalumir. Gauzy violet curtains blew lazily against the opened window.

“Thank you,” I said, dismissing the mage, until I was alone with Dario.

He took a deep breath, his eyes softening as his mouth opened. But there was a sudden rap on the door, and all at once, his face returned to the somewhat harsh, neutral expression he wore when guarding me.

Dario opened the door, and we were greeted by one of the Emperor’s soturi.

He was young, in pale golden armor that looked to be one size too large for his frame.

“Lord Dario,” he said, handing a small scroll over. “As an active soturion in the Palace, you have been relieved of all weapons. Your noble now has the Emperor’s protection, and it is pertinent that you meet with Numeria’s Turion at once.”

My stomach twisted, but this had been expected and I nodded for him to go ahead.

Left alone in my room, and coming off of recent commands from Imperator Hart, I had no choice but to follow orders and prepare for my first—in person—visit to the Throne Room.

An hour later, Dario returned, announcing it was time for our audience with Emperor Theotis. He led me outside where I joined our entourage. Imperator Hart and Lady Kenna stood at the front, flanked by their guards, followed by Arkturion Kane. There was a row of soturi in their gleaming black leather, but without any swords at their hips or on their backs. I spotted Senator Oryyan walking with his wife and Lady Amalthea. Rhyan followed them, and then two more sets of soturi separated him from Meera and Aiden, and then me and Dario. In addition to our own soturi the Emperor’s men were following closely.

I counted each step in my head as we walked, mentally bringing together the pen-and-parchment images I’d kept locked away in my mind with the reality of walking through the long, winding Palace. It took all the focus I had not to look in every nook and corner we passed, to not pray I’d catch a glimpse of a chayatim. Of Jules. I didn’t trust my reaction—didn’t trust I wouldn’t run for her right then and there and screw the rest of the plans.

Instead, I focused on the fact that my memorization of the Palace’s size and the number of steps needed to cross it had been precise. Each room was exactly as I’d counted. I slowed as we climbed the grand staircase leading to the hall before the Throne Room. And only then I realized the small flaw in the plan. My heart had already started to pound, a small heat building inside of me. We were near the shield, and already the Valalumir could sense it.

At the top of the stairs, I watched as the pattern on the floor changed beneath my feet from purple to the mix of black and white tile. It was exactly as I’d seen it in the nahashim’s vision. Sweat began to bead at the nape of my neck as we were stopped by the Emperor’s herald. Our names were collected.

My chest heaved. The Valalumir grew warmer inside me. The large doors opened and the herald began to list off the names of His Highness Imperator Hart’s entourage, methodically naming us all and our titles, one by one.

I stepped into the Throne Room, at once overwhelmed and dizzy. The shard called out to me—I was too close. It called out to the light inside me, the part of itself that had once made it whole. Staring at the black and white marble floor, my eyes slowly, carefully began to rise to see the white marble columns that stood every few feet. The golden throne sat on the opposite end of the room from where we stood.

On either side of the Emperor were two soturi, each wearing a golden Valalumir tattoo on their cheek. They looked exactly as they had when I’d looked through the snake’s eyes. And then I dared look up. I made eye contact with Emperor Theotis—the man who’d ruined my life. He looked just as I’d remembered, when he’d entered Bamaria only months ago—when he’d forced me into the arena with Haleika, and then forced Rhyan to watch. His thick white eyebrows were drawn together, his white beard trimmed short. His gold and purple velvet robes were draped across the throne, flowing off the dais, but rather than touch the floor, the ends spread across a long purple rug.

Throat dry and tightening, I met his gaze, and despite my near two decades of practice, nothing could stop the expression of disdain I knew was spreading all over my face. This was the man who’d kept my cousin enslaved for years. Who’d allowed her to be raped—if he hadn’t been the one to do it himself. This was the man who’d ordered an entire Ka to be murdered. Who hosted games where people would die just to keep us from questioning his authority. And because, standing on the dais beside him, were two more of the men I hated most in this world.

Imperator Kormac. And the Bastardmaker.

Their eyes, black, beady and wolf-like, sent a shiver running down my spine. I’d forgotten the layers of cruelty inside of them. The endlessly predatory, violent hunger. All at once, I was reminded of Brockton and Geoffrey, Brett, and Trey. They all had the same eyes. The same promise of barbarousness. Exactly like their father.

And standing on the floor, right in front of them, was Tristan.

I hadn’t seen him since our break up, since he’d gotten engaged to Naria. He had the strangest look in his brown eyes as we approached the dais. There was a coldness to them I’d never seen before. And in a way I couldn’t explain, at that moment, he looked like he was my enemy. He wasn’t just standing close to the wolves, but he looked like he belonged with them. Like he was one of them now.

Tristan cocked his head to the side, his neck filling with red as expressions of anger became more apparent in his aura. His energy wafted toward me in a way that was all at once foreign, and yet, all too familiar. Strangely familiar.

My heart pounded harder as the guards flanking me forced me to step forward again and again, moving ever closer to the shield. My chest grew warmer. And at last, when the pull became too strong to ignore, I let my eyes trail up, just as they had in the vision.

The bronzed-shield hung above the throne, the orange crystal glowing in the center illuminated by sunlight streaming through the stained-glass windows. A thousand colors glowed against the walls, and shimmered across the marble floor.

There was a breeze against my heated skin, cool, and filled with salt—wind from another life, another time. Spots filled my vision, and I saw gold sand stretching on for miles under a bright sun. I held up my hand—Asherah’s hand—darker, larger than my own to block the view. In the distance, I saw a blinding light, and the shadow of Auriel running toward me.

The vision vanished as quickly as it had appeared, the breeze gone. I was dizzy as I returned to this body, this life, the fire now burning inside my chest, the flames rising and growing hotter and hotter.

A small golden light began to glow from within, streams of it escaping the top of my bodice. “Dario,” I hissed, gripping his arm. “Alert His Highness. I’m unwell.”

“What?”

“Tell him. Help me. I’m–” I didn’t have the words. We’d never explained to Dario what had happened in the Seating Room that day. Despite him being privy to so many of our secrets he didn’t know this one. But he had seen my heart glow when Kane touched me. I stared pointedly down, and Dario’s eyes followed.

“Shit.” He didn’t hesitate. He removed his soturion cloak, and wrapped it around my shoulders while the other guards frowned.

The Emperor was speaking, using that voice of his which was somehow too loud and too quiet at the same time.

I couldn’t listen. Couldn’t focus. All I knew was I was in the presence of a shard of the Valalumir and my own piece of the light had very much recognized its counterpart.

I could vaguely hear my name on the Emperor’s lips, as well as Meera’s name, and then the proclamation of everyone’s joy that we’d been found safely, and Meera rescued from the akadim.

But as I looked up again at the orange light shining in the sun, I bit down on my lip to keep from crying, to keep from screaming that my heart was on fire. What Mercurial had done to me that morning had been more excruciating than anything I’d ever felt. But it was nothing next to this.

Everyone was ordered to bow. But my knees were already giving out. I desperately clutched at Dario’s cloak, trying to hide the light coming from me.

“Your Highness,” Dario yelled. “The lady! She’s faint.”

Imperator Hart at last turned to look at me, just as Rhyan had, his face filling with concern. He was already moving, racing back toward me, pushing past Kane and Amalthea, and the guards standing between us. The floor was rising up to meet me. Someone was shouting my name. And then I saw no more.