Chapter 11 #3
The basin was larger than she had expected.
It was long enough to run drills and wide enough to host several training groups at once.
The left side was fitted with a stretch of compacted sand bordered by low stone barriers.
The right had a flat sparring square marked by darker stone tiles, slightly raised at the edges to contain movement.
A line of wooden dummies stood near the far wall, each fitted with jointed arms and worn padding.
Racks of blunt weapons had been pushed against another section of the wall, neat and uniform.
The air shifted subtly as bodies gathered, soldiers filling out the tiers of the arena in lazy, sprawling piles across the seats, talking quietly amongst themselves.
It reminded her of the first day of the Kingsfete, when all the miners emerged from the mountain after finishing work early, ready to enjoy a rare afternoon off.
The viewing chambers extended deeper than she first thought; some appeared furnished, their fronts open to the arena with railings carved directly into the rock.
Others were broader platforms with no seating at all, clearly meant for standing audiences.
Light streamed in from the open sky above the basin, illuminating everything in clean, sharp angles.
Three dark-gold banners hung above the central chamber, rippling slowly in the morning breeze.
The first was emblazoned in the middle with a shining half-moon, the second with a crescent, and the third with a pitch-black circle.
Eiko almost stumbled as four figures approached the railing from within the chamber below the banners.
King Grigori and Queen Noemi were a striking pair.
He was just as huge and hulking as Eiko remembered him to be, with broad shoulders and thick arms, his skin a warm gold, weathered in places, with faint sun-darkening along his forearms. His hair was a deep, natural gold shot through with streaks of pale grey at his temples.
His beard was full, trimmed close at the sides but long through the chin, framing a square jaw.
His eyes were a clear, bright gold; the sun slanted across his face, making them shine.
He wore a light, emerald-and-cream, sleeveless, brocaded overcoat, the linen shirt beneath pushed up to his elbows.
Queen Noemi was much smaller in build, and where the king appeared brutish and rough, she was smooth and cool.
Her honeyed skin shone, no sunspots in sight.
Her glossy hair was a wavy, dune-soft brown, gathered neatly into a pinned style at the back of her head.
Her eyes were a saturated emerald green—sharp, bright, and immediately distinct.
She wore layered fabrics in soft ivory and muted green, the material light enough that it shifted whenever she breathed or turned her head.
They didn’t match in stature, but they matched in presence—one heavy and imposing, the other controlled and precise—as their attention swept the arena.
On the queen’s other side were the two princes. Corvan and Ceran. Despite having seen them only once before, such a long time ago, she could tell them apart instantly.
Ceran’s velvety voice suited him. His hands were braced against the railing as he leaned forward, his jewel-bronze hair waving lazily across a strong forehead, strands framing sly, rust-gold eyes with thick black lashes.
He had a full, silky moustache and dark stubble coating a strong, squared jaw, jewelled fingers stroking across his chin as that shrewd gaze surveyed the gathering soldiers.
Corvan was the spitting image of his father, but younger and far more handsome.
His facial hair was styled like his brother’s, but that was where their similarities ended.
Corvan had his father’s natural bulk, whereas Ceran seemed to have built up his musculature to get to their size, so Corvan appeared softer, less hard angling around his features.
His gaze was more of a mellowed, glassy gold—far less sharp and shrewd than Ceran’s.
Eiko stared up at them, swallowing tightly. She suddenly felt … unnervingly small.
Cairn exhaled, sharply impatient, stopping by their group. “Move,” he said. “We’re gathering in the centre.”
He stomped off, and Rion stared after him. “Everyone avoids him—have you noticed?”
She wasn’t talking to Eiko, but Eiko answered her anyway, as they moved closer to the centre of the arena. “Yes, I have a habit of noticing important little details like that.”
Rion scoffed softly. “It’s like … I don’t know. They’re scared of him? Or they think they’re better than him? Maybe both?”
“Probably both,” Kaito agreed with a shrug. “Amazing how much a little cane changes the way people treat you. Guess it’s no different here.”
The closer they got to the centre, the more she felt the size of the place—its depth, its emptiness, its ability to swallow sound.
It didn’t help that the arena was now clear—with all of the onlookers having taken seats—leaving the ten remaining recruits together in the centre with the section leaders.
They were subtly grouped: two men around Kaito’s age, two men a decade or two older, and a thin, mumbling woman were gathered around three section leaders, easily discernible from the weapons strapped all over their bodies, the customisations of their uniforms, and their slightly bored, confident expressions.
The other three section leaders were moving towards Eiko and her group. Alessandra had to be the woman in the middle, and after Eiko’s first glimpse of Rion in ten years, she had thought she had already seen the most beautiful woman in the world.
Perhaps she hadn’t.
Alessandra was strikingly beautiful in a regal sort of way.
She had long, chestnut curls twisted over her shoulders in braids, pale, olive skin, and vivid, ocean-blue eyes.
She seemed ruthless and fierce, but somehow terrifyingly self-possessed and calmly elegant.
Even as Eiko wondered why the King of All wasn’t trying to palm her off to one of his sons, she could see it.
The wilful stubbornness. The subtle, deadly strength. Alessandra was close to Ceran’s age, and she had already been honed into a fearsome weapon by the Godsguard. Eiko highly doubted that the woman would tolerate further honing.
Cairn gave her shoulder a shove. “Get over here,” he grunted. “Stand up straight.”
She gave her friends a look as Alessandra and the other two section leaders for Crescent approached.
Rion opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, but she didn’t dare.
Ky watched her with a worried expression.
Kaito and Ren were both clenching their jaws, biting back words as she stepped off to the side with Cairn.
Bannerless. Unwanted.