Chapter 69
CHAPTER 69
Rosalina
“K airyn is summoning us both to the Serenus Dusk Chambers.” The door to my room flies open as Dayton rushes in.
I sit up on my bed where I’ve been resting after today’s match. “What are those?”
“They’re suites and halls attached to the Sun Colosseum,” Dayton answers, words clipped and angry. “During long games, my family and other nobles would reside there rather than return to Soltide Keep.”
“Why does he want us there?”
“I don’t know. One of the guards explained we must be prepared. I said I would get you, but I don’t like this.”
My heart lurches in my throat. “Kairyn must be furious after your performance in the games today. The people were enthralled by you.”
“It’s a full moon tonight. He knows that as well, I’m sure,” Dayton says.
“We can’t let him get to us,” I say, pacing my room. “He’s going to try to rile you up. Whatever his bait, we can’t rise to it. Our only goal is to be allowed to continue and enter the final match.”
The muscle in Dayton’s jaw twitches.
“Dayton, are you listening?”
“Yes.” He touches the Summer token on his necklace. “Or I could get close to him tonight and gut him with the trident.”
“Kairyn’s magic isn’t cursed. He’s too strong. We need the support of your people and the bow.”
There’s a banging on my door and a booming voice carries inside: “All right, time to go.”
Quickly, I unfasten Dayton’s seashell necklace. “If they look too closely at you, they might discover the token. Best to take this off.”
“Do you really think it’s safe here?”
I kneel in a corner of my room beside my bed. From the dirt, I summon a tiny bramble of thorns that wraps around the necklace to protect it. “Safer than with Kairyn.”
Dayton gives a long sigh and extends a hand to help me up. “Well then, little siren, let me escort you into the belly of the beast.”
I’ve never felt so exposed and so revered. Like a walking jewel.
Shortly after we were brought to the Dusk Chambers, I was taken into a separate room and attended to by two fae females.
They stripped me down, washed my body and hair, all while remarking on how they’d never seen a siren up close before. Then they painted me. Unlike the paint Astrid used before I went to Caspian’s birthday party in the Below, this paint did not form cloth. It stuck to my skin like a second layer until every inch of me was covered in gold.
“To match your hair,” one of them explained.
Very little covers the rest of my body, only a draping of gold-painted shells woven on a thin string that dangles across my chest and hangs off my waist. My feet are left bare. My already golden hair is curled into loose waves.
Now, I walk through the halls, keeping my head high. I will not be embarrassed or ashamed by this. This is just another layer to my disguise. Siren, gladiator … and if Kairyn wants to dress me up as a jewel, then I’ll be that, as well.
“Just through here,” one of the attendants says as we pause before a gauzy curtain. Behind it, I hear the faint murmur of voices and the melodic hum of music.
Footsteps sound behind us, and I turn to see Dayton being led by two attendants of his own.
Breath catches in my throat. If I’m a jewel, he’s a golden sword. Every hard edge of him glitters. His body is painted as well, and only a delicate curtain of shells dangles from his jutting hip bones, showing off the powerful muscles of his legs. They’ve left his hair down as well, brushed with gold powder. The ends graze his broad shoulders, and the shimmer on his face accentuates the square cut of his jaw.
That glimmering face curves into a snarl when he sees me. He breaks away from the attendants and roughly grabs my arm. “You can’t go in there looking like that .”
“Oh, you think I’m pleased about your get-up?” I shoot back. “That little skirt is hardly enough to cover your, uh …”
He flashes a white grin. “I know. It’s breezy.”
“Be careful!” One of the attendants bursts between us. “You’ll smudge the paint.”
Dayton is forced to step back, and a new layer of gold is applied to my arm and his hand. Before we can say another word, we’re ushered inside.
Immediately, I’m overwhelmed by the scent of mingling perfumes, wafting delicately amid the lively chatter and soft rustle of silken garments. My heart quickens at the spectacle before me. This isn’t just any Summer Realm party—it’s reminiscent of something out of the Below, an extravaganza that blurs the lines between proper and sensational.
Music drifts through the air. A harpist plucks delicately at the strings, while flutes trill with an otherworldly lilt. All eyes turn to us as we walk into the celebration, the chatter of the crowd fading to a hushed whisper.
Marble columns rise majestically around the room, adorned with intricate carvings. The walls are draped in sumptuous fabrics, rich hues of crimson cascading like blood. Marble statues stand sentinel in alcoves, their serene faces illuminated by flickering torchlight.
But those aren’t the only beacons in this place. Blue lights dance merrily in the air, casting a soft glow. “Will-o’-wisps,” I whisper, leaning closer to Dayton.
“They sometimes float into the Serenus Dusk Chambers and around the arena during games. I didn’t know what they were until you and Farron taught us about the wisps in Autumn. My mother said they were spirits drawn to the great gatherings of life here.” Anger flashes in his gaze. “Not that this is a gathering of life. Look at these people. I recognize half of these Summer and Spring nobles. Spineless sycophants. The rest must be from the Below.”
“They might be just as trapped as we are,” I whisper back.
“Or maybe Kairyn’s giving them an excuse to let out their dark side.”
My gaze is drawn to the figure seated upon a throne at the head of the room, clad in full black armor that gleams ominously in the flickering candlelight. When the owl helm’s gaze meets mine, a shiver runs down my spine. He doesn’t know it’s me , I remind myself. Not with the makeup, not as a siren.
We stop before the throne, and Kairyn stands. “Ah, Daytonales. So pleased you could make it.”
“Yeah, well, I heard the food was better than in the barracks.” Dayton smiles.
There’s a small ripple of laughter through the audience, and I see the annoyance in the shift of Kairyn’s stance.
Beside Kairyn are a handful of his loyal acolytes, clad in robes of white and gold. I spy Wrenley holding a tray of bubbling drinks. Her big blue eyes are wide as she gazes at Dayton.
As she gazes at her mate.
“We were all delighted to see your little performance in the arena today, Daytonales,” Kairyn says. “Would you like to know who you and your little fishy friend will be fighting next?”
“Unless it’s you in full gladiatorial garb showing your ass to the sun, then I don’t really give a shit.”
A low metallic growl sounds through Kairyn’s helm and he gives an agitated gesture with his hand. Hard metal steps sound in the hall, and a looming figure approaches. The newcomer is nearly as tall as Kairyn and plated in coppery armor with a golden spear in his hands. The Bronze Knight, wielding what should be Farron’s Lance of Valor. Farron’s beautiful golden leaf token hangs from the knight’s neck.
“Do you think,” Kairyn’s voice lowers, “the little Autumn Prince will feel his lost relic taking your life? Perhaps he will seek revenge, only to meet the same fate.”
A low growl sounds in Dayton’s chest, and he surges forward, but I grab his arm. “Save it for the arena.”
Dayton stills, muscles tense.
“Just as one day, I will finally put an end to the plague that is my brother with the Hammer of Hope.” Kairyn touches the wooden square, the token of Spring, at his neck.
Now it’s my turn to bite my tongue. After everything Kairyn has done to Ezryn, it’s still not enough.
“You’ll never be the ruler Ezryn was,” Dayton growls, voice low and dangerous.
“Are you implying you know so much about leadership, Daytonales?” Kairyn chuckles. “It’s almost embarrassing how easy it was to take your realm. Damocles would be ashamed.”
“Do not say his name,” Dayton roars. I squeeze his arm.
“You’re nothing more than a shadow of him. A failed remnant of a greater man,” Kairyn says.
I narrow my gaze. If that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black. Thankfully, Dayton’s pulse has steadied under my touch, and he’s reassumed that blasé look from earlier. Letting Kairyn rile us up will only hurt our cause.
“Look at you, practically a prisoner while I sit upon the throne that was once yours. Do you even know why I’ve brought you here?” Kairyn asks.
“Well, I’m assuming by the way you’ve dressed me, it can only be to appreciate my male physique?” Dayton chides. “How long has it been since you’ve removed that armor and gazed at your own cock?”
“Dayton,” I hiss.
Kairyn’s body tenses with anger, fists curling at his sides. “No.” He takes a step down the stairs that lead up to the throne. “As a participant in my games, you belong to me. But I don’t want to keep you all to myself. You proclaimed yourself High Prince in the arena, yet I see no token, and I certainly don’t feel the magic of a High Ruler.”
The muscles in Dayton’s throat work as he swallows.
“Tonight, you can be prince of the people.” Kairyn spreads an arm out to our audience, all watching with rapt attention. “Wars are expensive, you see. Tonight, these lovely fae will bid on the pleasure of you and your partner’s company.”
“I’m not fucking anyone,” Dayton growls. “And neither is she.”
Kairyn shakes his head. “Is that all that’s ever on your mind, Summer Prince? Fucking and drinking? I am not offering anything so base. The people here are curious about your ways. They pay for the company of gladiators and of the wonders of the sea. Eat, drink, and share stories, all while knowing every moment you spend with them is fueling the Green Rule.”
Kairyn sweeps past us to address the crowd. “Do we have an opening bid to spend the night with the gladiator Daytonales?”
The nobles begin to throw numbers into the air like rain. “Two thousand denarii,” I whisper. “Is that a lot?”
Dayton grunts. “A skilled blacksmith might earn a thousand denarii in a year. These people are fools to throw that amount of coin at Kairyn.”
“That amount for you .”
He leans in and whispers, “If anyone touches you tonight, I’ll do worse than relieve them of their hands.”
“Then I’ll do my best to keep my distance, partner.”
“Three thousand denarii!” A Spring servant calls out the bids. “Going once, going twice, sold!”
A woman in draping spiderweb silk jumps up and claps her hands together, eyeing Dayton with a hungry gaze. He sighs.
“If it’s any consolation, I don’t think your fishy sidekick will go for such a price,” I say.
“I don’t like this.”
“Telling stories, being charming for a few hours … we can handle that.” I lower my voice. “We’ll steal it back and buy a thousand stuffed animals.”
“It’s a promise, Blossom. Though, I don’t know if you and the princes will fit in a bed with all of those.” His face softens, and he turns away.
My stomach twists in sadness as I watch him go. The woman and her friends greet him with cheers of glee, handing the prince a goblet of wine.
They are citizens of the Below. Perhaps there’s something we can learn from them.
“All right.” Kairyn waves a dismissive hand, already looking bored. “The siren.”
My bids start low.
“Twenty denarii!”
“Thirty-five!”
“Forty.”
A male with a protruding nose and a pointy, rat-like chin prowls forward. Stringy brown hair falls in greasy strands to his shoulders. “I’ve always been curious about the elusive sirens.” He reaches a crooked hand to one of the shells at my waist.
“If you want to touch, Duke Vermil, you must pay.” The auctioneer steps over, and the male retracts his gnarled fingers. “We have forty. Do I hear fifty?”
“One thousand,” a sweet voice says. A young woman stands next to a cubiculum covered by gauzy curtains. “My master would like to bid one thousand denarii.”
I wrack my mind. Has she bid before? One thousand denarii—that’s almost as much as Dayton went for.
Duke Vermil licks his lips. “It seems I’m not the only one with such desires. I bid one thousand and fifty denarii.”
My stomach sinks. If anything, the price increase made this male want me more. I know Kairyn said we only had to talk with these people, but I don’t think that’s what this duke has in mind.
“Five thousand denarii,” the girl says. I try to get a look at her through the crowd. She has straight black hair and smoke-lined eyes.
The duke’s face blanches. “It seems someone knows more than me.”
“Six thousand,” another bidder says, a burly man near the back of the hall.
Kairyn gives a huff of approval, watching this play out. I meet Dayton’s wide eyes, concern on his features. He doesn’t like this any more than I do. What are these people going to expect of me with this much money on the line?
“My master will bid twenty thousand,” the slight girl says.
“Thirty thousand,” the duke hisses, spittle foaming from beneath his teeth.
“Forty thousand,” says the fae in the back.
My heart rate increases and sweat beads on my brow, threatening to ruin my paint. No, no, no. I don’t want to be here anymore. I told Dayton I could do this, but I’m not sure I can. If I use my thorns to protect myself, our ruse will be up and—
“One hundred thousand denarii,” the girl says. “My master would like to bid one hundred thousand.”
The room goes silent. Even the musicians pause.
“One hundred thousand denarii,” the auctioneer stutters and looks at Kairyn.
“Sold,” Kairyn says. “If your master can pay.”
“I assure you he can,” the girl says confidently.
“Very well,” Kairyn says and looks at me. “The deal is done.”
The duke scrunches his face up in anger, then stalks away.
“Come with me, miss,” the slight girl says as she walks over. Her red eyes glint with mirth.
Wait. Red eyes …
“Astrid?”
She gives a little giggle and takes my hand. “Shush. I’m in disguise.”
My nerves calm, and I follow her through the crowd. She’s heading for a private room, hidden by black curtains. None of this makes any sense. What is she doing here, away from Castletree? Who is her master? The only person she’s ever called master is Keldarion. He can’t be here, can he? He’s supposed to be in the Below.
Then I feel it, something burning deep into my chest. For a wild moment, I know if I grabbed one of these wild will-o’-wisps, it would lead a light straight beyond those veiled black curtains.
“Just through here,” Astrid says as she pulls back the veil and ushers me through.
But it’s not Keldarion lounging on the chaise inside.
It’s the Prince of Thorns.
His lips curve into a tantalizing smile. “Why, hello there, little siren.”