Chapter 25
Zane
Standing at his bedroom window overlooking the courtyard, he watched three horses walk off the castle grounds freely and unopposed. Zane sat in his plush wingback chair, crossing an ankle over his other knee, and unfurled the scroll he’d found in the library. He read it again, but just like the other dozen times he’d perused it over the past couple days, no further secrets revealed themselves. Iyana was important. He felt that in his bones. From what he”d gleaned out of the brief document, it seemed the Aztia and Kanaliza had played a much more important role hundreds of years ago. But sometime within the past three centuries, they’d become redundant, or complacent. There were no significant threats to the fate of humanity, so they had faded into obscurity. He wondered if any of the Aztias before Iyana had inherently understood that they were special. Or what if they needed their Kanaliza to unlock their magic? What would happen if they didn’t find each other?
As soon as he’d recognized what was in the vial that Emmeric had dropped, he’d had an overwhelming sense in the pit of his stomach that his next actions would direct fate. Not only his, but the continent’s. The world’s. Zane scoffed at himself and his obviously over-inflated ego. How could he possibly control anyone’s fate? He wasn’t even in control of his own life. All the same, two options had presented themselves: arrest Emmeric for aiding a prisoner of the crown and stand by while the emperor executed him, or purposefully ignore the situation and defy his father. For the past nineteen years of his life, he’d always chosen the first option. Acquiesced to Uther’s wishes and demands at the expense of others.
But he’d been silent for too long.
So he gave the vial back, hoped nobody else had seen and that Emmeric was smart enough to take a hint. Zane guessed a rescue attempt would be forthcoming. He wouldn’t expect anyone to sneak into the dungeon to give a prisoner contraband and not have some grand scheme planned. As he thought more on it, he realized that the autumn equinox would be the night he would plan for. Most people would be out celebrating, it was loud, and the guards could typically be found drinking out of flasks and playing poker. There was no way for Zane to confirm they were planning an escape attempt—let alone one the night of the equinox—without revealing himself. He could, however, assist from the sidelines. If it turned out there was no rescue, then Zane was free and clear. No harm, no foul.
Other than his own two personal guards, his father’s guards, and the two in the dungeon, he’d offered the majority the night off. Some took him up on the offer, no questions asked. Some decided they’d rather work anyway; others questioned why, to which he’d said they worked so hard and rarely had time to themselves, and when was the last time someone was attacked within the castle, anyway? He hoped the skeleton crew would pave the way for Emmeric, and, he assumed, Talon. Those two didn’t seem to do anything without the other. A twinge of jealousy hit Zane’s heart, but was it because he lacked a friendship in which one would do anything for the other? Or because it was Talon, specifically? He didn’t want to walk that road, especially since Talon rode out of the city with Iyana and would now be branded as a traitor.
He briefly wondered who was on the third horse, the one carrying Iyana.
After an hour had passed, he opened his doors with a grand flourish, startling the two men outside. It wasn’t the twins, but instead the stand-ins he used when the twins or Emmeric and Talon were unavailable. Zane didn’t know their names and had no desire to learn.
“Your Highness?” one of them asked.
“I’d like to pay a visit to our esteemed guest,” he said, in the most haughty, spoiled prince voice he could muster.
“Guest, my lord?” the other asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.
“Yes, the woman in the dungeons.” The men glanced at each other, a silent conversation occurring; they knew the prince was forbidden from entering the dungeons. “I’ve taken a…special interest in her.” He winked and immediately felt shame coat him like a second skin. One guard finally nodded, and they escorted him down into the belly of the castle. Neither of them wanted to be on the crown prince’s bad side.
As they traveled, he pondered about the star his father was so interested in. What was it for? And what did Uther mean when he said ‘they’? That made it sound as though the star was a person. Unfortunately, his searches for any information on stars had proved fruitless. He planned on making a trip to the healer university to search their library.
Lost in his thoughts, they quickly reached the entrance to the dungeon where two men dressed in the Holygazer green uniform lay unconscious. His two guards ran to check on them and declared they were still living. Zane walked into the dungeon room, the smell of unwashed bodies and feces hitting him in the face. Someone protested him entering the space, but he paid them no mind. He had to know, to see it for himself. Grubby, skinny hands grabbed at him as he passed by, and he let them, his disgust for his father’s actions growing. Towards the back, a cell door stood wide open, the iron lock melted completely. What in the nine hells was capable of such destruction?
Looking past the door, he saw the cell was empty. Iyana was gone. Zane strode back to the entrance rapidly, snapping his fingers at his men in a command to follow him. They glanced towards the unconscious guards, but decided not to risk the prince’s wrath, and fell into step behind him.
“The prisoner has escaped,” Zane announced.
The men spluttered. “How?” one asked.
“Should we ring the bells?” the other asked.
“No. I need to speak with my father first. The people responsible may still be in the castle or on the grounds. I don’t want to spook them with the bells.”
Rounding a corner on the way to the emperor’s chambers, Zane stopped short. Before him was one of the more gruesome sights he’d seen. A body lay on the ground, one arm at a terrible angle, the other arm severed completely. Both knees appeared to be broken. Multiple gashes crisscrossed the body, and it had been eviscerated. The face was a bloody pulp. But it appeared the killing blow was a slash across the throat. Even with all the disfigurement, Zane recognized Azazel. One man retched behind him, mixing the always lovely smell of vomit with that of blood and urine. Zane nudged the severed arm with his boot. Shame, he thought, attempting to hide his smile. He’d always hated the torture master, even if he’d never touched Zane himself.
Stepping over Azazel’s mangled corpse, he continued on his way up to the emperor’s lavish quarters. Uther had dedicated almost an entire wing of the castle to himself. It was obscene how much gold and precious jewels he’d fit into this space. The emperor needed his riches close by, like a dragon with his hoard. The guards posted at his bedroom door attempted to bar his entry, but even Uther’s personal retinue didn’t have the authority to touch the crown prince without a direct order. Zane burst open the double doors, striding confidently into his father’s space.
A shriek sounded from the large four-poster bed, immediately followed by Uther’s, “What the fuck?” A woman close to Zane’s age was throwing a sheet over herself, and Uther rolled onto his feet stark naked, ready to bash in whoever had interrupted his exceedingly mediocre fucking, if the sounds the woman had been making were anything to go by. Zane peered around his father and recognized the woman as Lady Seph, one of the noblemen’s daughters. And a woman Zane had already fucked months ago. Gross.
“Zane,” his father practically growled, “there had better be a good fucking reason for this. Or maybe you’ve grown fond of the switch?” Zane almost winced, hating that Uther mentioned his beatings in front of Seph, but he squared his shoulders, not worried about the consequences.
He motioned to Uther’s naked body. “Do you want to put some clothes on?”
“You interrupted me,” the emperor said, his impatience growing by the second, “so you get to be uncomfortable.”
Zane shrugged. “Just thought you might want to be dressed when I told you the prisoner escaped.”
“What?” Uther shouted, his body flushing red. He stormed over to the armoire, throwing on loose clothing in a rush. Holygazer green, as always. “Which one?”
“The girl.”
“Fuck!”
Zane was enjoying this far too much, and he had to double check that he had firmly affixed his uninterested, obedient son mask. “And why don’t I hear the bells?” Uther growled.
“I wanted to inform you first, in case they were still on the grounds. I didn’t want to scare them off.”
“Go ring the fucking bells!” Uther barked at the nearest guard, who immediately ran to do his bidding. “Zane, you need to start talking.”
“I was going to see the girl—”
“Why?” his father demanded.
“Conjugal visit,” Zane said, bored, shrugging. Uther huffed, but didn’t say anything about his choice in bed mate. “When we arrived, the two stationed outside the door were unconscious, and her cell’s lock had been completely melted.”
Uther went unnaturally still, confirming Zane’s suspicions. The emperor knew what was capable of committing such magic. Because it had to be magic. “Who aided her? Because I know she was too weak to get out on her own.”
Zane raised a shoulder again, nonchalantly. He studied his nails as Uther continued dressing. Poor Lady Seph was silently clinging to the bedpost. Uther paid her no mind, but Zane gave her an encouraging smile, nodding towards the bathing room. She scurried in on quiet feet; she’d be able to sneak out once they left.
Fully dressed, Emperor Uther rushed past Zane, clipping his shoulder as he left. Zane waited until his father was leaving at a hurried pace to call out, “Oh, and Azazel is dead.”
Uther spun around to face Zane, and the fury in his ice-blue eyes belied his loss of control. Zane knew his father hated that someone had outsmarted him. Let alone under his own roof. The emperor continued on his way without another word. This time, Zane couldn’t hold in a delighted chuckle. The past hour had been the most fun he’d had in at least a decade.