Chapter 5
Five
KYRON
The Esspress emperor’s sixth wife was quick to answer my request for an audience with her husband.
As Borin predicted, her response implied she would ask for a favor in return before she brought me before the emperor.
I need the chance to ask him for at least two fully manned battleships to comfortably pull off the rescue mission, and the kingdom to our north is my only prospect of procuring them.
The price for this favor could be to the detriment of my morals, but it’s a risk I have to take.
The possibility of Lasandra asking me to service her in any sexual way has my stomach in knots.
I’ve given my body to a fair share of women, enjoyed their company and taken my pleasure, but I have no desire for meaningless fucking anymore.
My body is for the pleasure of one woman, and one woman only.
“You look like you’re going to vomit.”
I yank my hand from my pocket, releasing the Eporri, and snap my attention to Rowan.
The young soldier sits tall on his father’s massive black stallion—Nortus.
During most of the trek through northern Pliris and into Esspress, he has held his tongue.
He didn’t even put up a fight when I ordered him to remain with me instead of staying behind with the one hundred and twenty soldiers on the other side of the mountain range.
He’s eager to fight, to avenge his sister.
I understand all too well that need, but his safety comes first.
“I’m not looking forward to my meeting with the Esspress ruler or his wife,” I say.
“Are you going to give in to her?” Rowan asks.
Looking down the red clay road ahead, I say, “I’m not sure. This is our only hope of getting Raelle back, and we need her help.”
“You should do whatever it takes. Raelle can heal from a broken heart. The same can’t be said if Zek continues to hack away at her.”
He’s right. Zekel will stop at nothing to get what he wants. He has no love for Raelle. Her capture was a power play. What happens to her means nothing to him. The same can’t be said for me.
“If I betray our bond, it will do more than break her heart. I don’t know if I can inflict that kind of pain on her,” I confess.
A thoughtful hum rumbles in Rowan’s throat, and he falls silent.
The gray sky opens, releasing a constant drizzle of rain.
It taps against the scale-like plates of Rowan’s black armor, joining the clapping of horse hooves.
We ride side by side and take in the scenery of the Esspress kingdom.
Thick layers of moss cover the trunks of the massive trees, and beneath them, mushrooms litter the ground with bulbous red and orange heads.
The air is heavy and laced with pine and soil.
Despite the wet weather and what lies ahead of me, this land is beautiful.
“What do you think Raelle would do if roles were reversed?” he asks, earning a sidelong glance from me. “What if the only way to save you was to do something she didn’t want to do?”
I run my hand over the back of my neck and turn my face up, allowing the rain to wash over me. “She would do it without a second thought.”
“I think you have your answer then.”
“I think I liked you better when you refused to talk to me,” I grumble.
“You can always assign me back to the main regiment to get me out of your hair.”
“Or I could gag you and have you share a horse with Cohn.”
Rowan spares a glance at the enormous man perched upon an equally massive horse. Cohn focuses his black stare ahead and grunts. Perspiration beads on his round cheeks that ball with his sneer. My most threatening soldier sweats like fluids repulse his body.
“I’ll shut my mouth,” Rowan says.
“Wise choice.”
We ride on, the trees growing thicker and the air thinner as we climb in elevation.
The road appears to end, but as we inch closer, it declines into a valley.
Fields of tall grass and bright orange, yellow, and purple wildflowers surround hundreds of rustic homes.
Each has a wooden rail fence and a thatched roof.
A bustling market sits in the center, with striped awnings covering the stands.
Horse-drawn carriages clutter the cobblestone streets as the Esspress people go about their day.
It reminds me of Lucent before I was king.
A waterfall cascades over a mountain’s mossy rocks, creating the perfect backdrop for the emperor’s castle.
The water flows along two streams that circle the perimeter, separating the multi-story stone building from the town.
The only way inside is over an arched bridge and through the towering main gate.
No doubt that one of the countless guards will report our arrival the moment we enter. Our mission feels impossible from here.
“Oh wow,” Rowan whispers with wide eyes.
I follow his gaze to the magnificent ivory sanctuary, looming over the town from a hilltop.
At least a dozen spires reach for the clouds, each carved into unique designs—thin and thick, wrapped in intricate vines or sleek geometrical shapes.
One pillar is just as eye-catching as the next and represents the uniqueness of every soul who has left this world to join the Statera.
The Esspress share a special bond with the dead, passing on messages to the living and ensuring those who are gone are never forgotten. Many don’t wish to seek the wisdom of those who passed before them, but for those who are curious, Esspress is where they’ll find answers.
Borin pulls his horse beside mine and following behind him is the Sibyl.
Even on a horse they have a journal open.
Statera forbid they miss a second of what I’ve set out to do.
They’re useless in the grand scheme of things; therefore, their presence irritates me.
This rescue mission would be a hundred times easier with the help of another kingdom.
The Sibyls have turned me down repeatedly, yet they didn’t miss the chance to have my potential failure notated.
All they did was give me an extra body to protect.
I can’t help but shake my head and roll my eyes every time I see them.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Kyron? There is no shame in finding another way,” Borin says.
“I’m sure.” I reach into my pocket and squeeze the Eporri.
The raised petals dig into my palm. I’ve attempted to call upon its power and fallen short each time.
Raelle never knew a day of her life without the stone’s gift.
The Eporri was such a part of her that she thought the ability to recognize the gifts of a Khiros was a natural talent everyone had.
Once she tapped into the sacred gift, she was unstoppable.
The way she controlled the power of others was graceful and magnificent.
I was in awe of her the very first time she did it, even if her lack of control almost cost me my life.
Her connection with the stone was so strong that one would never guess it wasn’t her own power.
I, on the other hand, look like an inept moron when I try to use it.
I summon others gifts only for it to flicker in their palm and fizzle out before I ever get the chance to wield it.
The closest I’ve come to having it follow my command is the day I drew on it to make Raelle believe I siphoned from her.
Even then, I was using the Eporri through her.
The rulers before me were introduced to the gift from infancy. By the time they were adults, they recognized its pull and understood the basics of how it works. It will take time and practice for me to truly understand the stone. Time that I do not have.
Our ride through the Esspress’ capital is uneventful.
Most of the people don’t so much as spare a glance in our direction.
It’s not until we reach the castle’s bridge that two guards stop us and ask that we state our business.
I grip Samson’s reins, the sweat covering my palms soaking into the leather.
The guards’ deep blue tunics, heavy gold helmets, and breastplates are eye-catching.
They look like they would do little for their dexterity in battle.
The uniform is too bulky. We could easily plow through them and raid their palace if I ordered it.
It’s a thought I tuck away in case my meeting with the emperor’s wife doesn’t go to plan.
When Borin finishes telling the guards that Lasandra is expecting our arrival, they step to the side and allow us to move on.
We travel through a long archway constructed of river rocks before we reach a courtyard.
Lush green grass and colorful potted plants rest at the palace’s center.
Children sit in a circle under one of the many shade-giving trees while a woman walks around them.
They hold leather-bound books, following along as she reads aloud.
Men and women adorned in billowing silks and hundreds of jewels stroll the colonnade, peering at us through more stone archways.
They speak in hushed voices while taking in our dark and dusty clothing.
We stand out like a fucking sore thumb. Everything in Esspress is so colorful and vibrant.
A middle-aged man with thinning hair and sagging jowls takes Samson’s reins, and a young woman in pale pink pants and matching cropped blouse bows before me.
“King Kyron, if you will follow me, my lady has requested your audience in her personal quarters,” she says.