Chapter 16 Anastasius
“Get your hands off of me!” I struggled against Hariasa and the other draconis restraining me as they hauled me away from Claeg. Their grip didn’t loosen. “Hariasa! By the gods, let me go!” My words fell on deaf ears. They forced me down the hallways toward my room. My heart raced. Finally, they let go with a strong thrust that would have knocked someone else off their feet, but I caught myself, whirling around in time to see Hariasa slam the door shut.
I turned toward my balcony, but my heart fell upon seeing it guarded by a couple of Calian’s warriors. I growled at them, my focus shifting to the magic contained in the necklace I wore, but only an emptiness responded to my query. My brow furrowed, but the problem became apparent immediately. Profanities fell from my lips, finding the jewelry no longer around my neck. Without the conduit, I couldn’t access the magic.
“Hariasa, please,” I pleaded, spinning back toward the door.
“This is for your own good, Prince Anastasius,” she called through the door, her voice cold and unfeeling.
“What is going on?” I asked, but the only response was Hariasa instructing her minions to keep guard.
I sat in silence then and waited for time to pass. My eyes fell closed. Tears welled, spilled down my cheeks. I didn’t wipe them away. Instead, they dropped, tracing paths like the many scars I bore—telling a story of pain which couldn’t be expressed. Pain which festered within me without an outlet. It lurked deep within me now, along with confusion. The thought sent crippling fear through me. If Odon hurt Claeg . . . If he knew whom he truly was . . .
My teeth smashed together. He would pay. Odon would pay for every draconis he had ever hurt.
His reign would come to an end. Soon.
Father kept guards assigned to me. They accompanied me everywhere, barring me from seeing Claeg where I suspected he was being confined in his room. It was agony, being forced to sit on the throne. I squirmed in my seat, hating that I sat in this position without holding any real power. My father mocked me with it, placing me here while holding my heart captive.
“Eat, my Prince,” Ercan said, thrusting a tray of food under my nose. My eyes fell upon the remnants of his finger, and I recoiled. There hadn’t been an opportunity to steal new magical crystals for either of us, but I wasn’t even sure if he would want one after the trauma of losing the ring. He was still healing but insisted on attending to me. So far, he had neither pressed me about my Selected’s identity nor asked about Enid’s fate, but I knew he wondered. I huffed but took the cup from his scarred hand without drinking anything. My chin found my palm, resting itself there, my lip raw from where my anxiety had drawn me to relentlessly chew it. Below, Aurora was going toe to toe with Hariasa, the clang of blades ringing loudly. Meanwhile, Oriana and Janus watched attentively, taking notes, assessing their opponent.
“Prince Anastasius,” Ercan chided, and I winced at his sharp tone, obliging him with a sip of juice harvested from magic. “You worry for the man you Selected,” he observed quietly, his voice filled with a compassion I knew wouldn’t be there if he knew Claeg’s true identity. Despite it being well-known that Claeg was from the Circulus, Ercan hadn’t pressed to meet him. Perhaps he felt shame for his place in our clan. I glanced at where he stood behind my throne and ground my teeth, my jaw pulsing. I choked down more of the drink, using it to hide my discomfort at the thought and nodded.
I wanted to scream in frustration. My thoughts turned to Claeg—again, as they often did as I mentally paced my unique cage. I imagined the worst: my Selected, the one Chosen to compete for my heart, his spirit broken in every way the Circulus hadn’t. After seeing what Father had done to Ercan, my heart screamed with fear for my Selected. Claeg’s wounds needed to be tended to, but I suspected Calian was doing everything in his power to make his prisoner suffer, not heal. Odon was cruel, impulsive and irrational, and now, it seemed he didn’t trust me. I cursed myself for letting my guard slip. Now wasn’t the time to make my father doubt me. I needed his confidence before fulfilling my plan—to enact the sacred Challenge for his role as De Vita. The abductions of the Circulus had to stop. Since Hen’s disappearance, my father had obsessed over every opportunity to seize power from the Circulus. Only when I commanded the clan would the Circulus be safe from his cruelty. My father would never trust me with the spell to heal if I Challenged him first. He would withhold the coveted secret just to control me and then my efforts to protect the vulnerable would have been for nothing.
I sprang to my feet, unable to sit around and do nothing as Odon oversaw the unspeakable things being done to Claeg. Aurora’s head snapped to my quick movement. It cost her. Hariasa used the distraction to her advantage. Seconds later, a dagger clattered along the floor, flung in my direction as Hariasa easily disarmed the younger woman. I turned to Ercan, who was also studying me closely. The guards assigned to me looked at me curiously.
Luckily, I wasn’t given the chance to do anything stupid before the throne room door burst open, causing the fledglings guarding it to startle. My eyes widened. Rohit. I darted for my friend, all but launching myself into his arms. Thankfully, neither of my ever-present guards stopped me. My friend had been on patrol more often than not lately, leaving me with only Ercan as company, and as much as I loved the older man, he wasn’t Rohit. His auburn hair fell around his chin as he unraveled our bodies and pulled a necklace from his pocket. My eyes latched onto it for a moment before I snatched it, reclaiming the magic it contained.
“Come. You need to get ready for the trial to begin!” Rohit urged, pulling me with him. He glanced at the two women who had been charged with guarding me as they followed. “I’ll guard him. You are dismissed,” he said with an air of authority that wasn’t his to hold, yet he did so well. They held his eye for a moment before nodding and backing off. And just like that, I was free.
Rohit didn’t speak as we practically ran through the castle like children. When we finally arrived at my room, we were both breathless, but my lungs didn’t feel the burn. Rohit wasted no time in stripping me of my clothes. Once, his hands would have lit a fire within my core, but now, that passion was dulled. Whether from the curse or my acceptance of the boundaries within our friendship, I wasn’t sure. Perhaps both.
“Was it peaceful when Enid left?” he asked, dropping my clothes that were to be replaced with the ceremonial garb. All the while, he maintained eye contact. His green eyes were flush with unshed tears. I nodded. He braced himself against my shoulder, taking a moment of silence to reflect upon our friend. She had suffered so much leading up to her death. The hand on my shoulder trembled as a sob threatened to emerge from Rohit. I took his hand in mine, squeezing gently. I debated telling him about Claeg’s involvement: it felt wrong to hide it and his identity.
After a minute, Rohit swallowed and wiped the wetness from his cheeks. “May De Vita bless her with its eternal breath,” he murmured, letting out a shaky breath before letting go of my hand and going to find my outfit. When he returned from the closet, his face was set, his grief hidden behind a mask.
I let Rohit dress me in a silver tunic; then he guided me to the plush chair before the fireplace. He quietly weaved my hair into braids as I stared into the caged fire. Its flames lapped at the edges, desperate to be free—but like me, the fire was contained inside, controlled, in a way that fire should never be. We needed an outlet or we would wither and burn out.
“Rohit, there is something I have to tell you,” I began slowly. I couldn’t keep the fire inside any longer. He frowned and cocked an eyebrow. At another time, the expression would have been amusing. “The Ruptor of the Circulus . . . was there when Enid breathed her last of this life.”
Rohit paused the intricate work of styling my hair, going eerily still.
I swallowed. Claeg had done what I couldn’t. I closed my eyes, guilt twisting in my gut. “I failed, Ro.” A tear fell from my eye, a sob building in my chest. My lip quivered, and I bit it to control the minute tremble. Rohit held my eye, silently willing me to continue. “Eleos did what I was too late to do.” The sob escaped me then, the sound so dreadful that I couldn’t help but continue. Rohit knelt before me, taking my hands in his, but I refused to look at him and see the judgment I knew would be there. “I’m so sorry,” I cried, my body trembling violently as Rohit wrapped his arms around me in a tight embrace. He murmured sweet reassurances I didn’t deserve as I broke in his arms. “I failed her, and now I have failed him. They took him, Ro.”
For a long while, he was silent, taking up my hair again to continue weaving it.
When he finally spoke, it was like a shot to my heart. “Does Ercan know?”
I shook my head miserably. The admission actualized the betrayal, solidifying my guilt. Rohit studied me for a moment and nodded, accepting my decision without protest. The action only made me feel worse. I needed to tell him, but I wasn’t sure how.