Chapter 36
Thirty-Six
When I open the door to let my ladies in the next morning, Brevan isn’t outside. Six legionnaires are standing there, and each of them inclines their head at me as the ladies hurry into Anya’s room.
My ladies are dressed in their usual finery, but they all look tired. I’m guessing nobody slept last night. Even though none of them were harmed, I know how frightening it must have been.
Anya’s room is smaller than mine, but we all sit around the fireplace together. Genevieve stares into space, a cooling cup of tea between her palms. Antonia and Charlotte both sit with books in their laps, but they rarely turn the pages. Anya sips tea on the couch next to me.
I hate that I can’t do anything to break the gloom. At least it has continued to snow, and most of the tracks and blood are buried under the fresh powder.
I check for Brevan several times, but he’s still away by lunch. My ladies are more talkative by now, and we even get a lively game of hearts going. None of us brings up last night, though.
Finally, sometime in the late afternoon, there’s a knock on my door.
“I’ll get it,” Charlotte calls.
“No, you sit, I’ll get it,” I say.
Anya gives me a warning look, but I ignore it. I know what kind of trouble I’m asking for, but I can’t stop myself. My heart leaps when I see Brevan at my doorway. “No training today?” I ask playfully.
When his expression remains steely, my smile fades.
“What is it?” I ask.
“The emperor and prince have returned early due to the attack. They have called a meeting of the court. You’re all expected to be there tonight.”
My heart sinks. “When did they get back?”
“Early this morning.”
“A meeting so soon can’t be good news,” I say.
“It’s not,” he says.
I reach for him, then catch myself and pull my arm back. “Can you tell me?”
“No.” His expression is stone. There’s not even a hint of what he knows.
“Alright.” I don’t press. I think that at this point, if he could say something, he would. Whatever this is, it’s out of his hands.
“Please join the court in the throne room at six.” His jaw is tight, his movements stiff. “The emperor will host dinner at seven in the ballroom. Formal dress is expected.”
“Are you leaving again?” I ask quietly.
“I won’t be at your door, but I’m not leaving the castle,” he says.
“Will I see you later?”
“I will be in attendance.” His tone is so stiff and impersonal.
“I’m sorry. About last night...” I whisper. That’s the only thing I can think of. I ruined it. I shouldn’t have kissed him. It was too far.
His expression softens and he whispers, “The only thing I would change about last night would be staying by your side. You shouldn’t have had to fight those men off yourself.”
I bite my lower lip to keep from saying what I really want to say. I want to ask him about the kiss. I want him to clarify that he really doesn’t regret that.
“Ladies,” he says loudly, then inclines his head to the women in my room. “Princess.” He bows. “I will see you all this evening.”
I shut the door, then catch Anya’s eye. She’s practically screaming her warning at me. My cheeks heat. Was I that obvious?
I pass the ladies and close myself into the bathing chamber. Covering my face with a bundle of drying cloths, I scream into them. I’m in so much fucking trouble.
Anya is wrong. I’m not falling for him. I already fell. If I had to choose between Brevan and the rebellion, I’m not sure I could be trusted to make the right decision.
The throne room is right off the main entrance to the castle, not far from the ballroom where I first saw the emperor.
The large iron doors are decorated with a dragon on each side.
Their tails overlap, crossing over the doors and almost making the shape of a heart.
Their wings spread wide as if they’re in flight.
It makes me sick to look at it. The dragon in the dungeon is probably as vicious as the stories say, but I’d be furious, too, if someone kept me locked in a dark pit.
They push the doors open, and I enter, followed by my ladies.
A few other members of the court come behind us.
We’re the first to arrive, and the legionnaires guide us to stand in front, facing the throne.
The courtiers who arrive after fill in the spaces behind us.
Nobody stands closer than our group. I’m not sure if it’s because of my stolen status as a royal or if there’s a more sinister reason for it.
I stare at the massive black throne atop an oval dais.
There are no stairs facing us so they must be in the back.
The throne itself is made of black-stained wood sculpted to look like it’s part of a tree.
There are knots and leaves carved along the surface, which looks like the texture of wood.
A black velvet cushion rests on the seat.
There are no other chairs. Not a chair for the priest or Caiden. Just the emperor’s lone throne. I wonder if the empress used to have a chair of her own.
Behind the throne is a massive curtain that spans the entire wall. I’ve never seen so much fabric in one place before. Not knowing whether the room expands beyond it or the curtain blocks doorways and windows makes me uneasy.
The fabric ripples, then parts. Two legionnaires hold the material to the side so the emperor can walk through. Caiden follows him. Then, after a few seconds, Brevan and the high priest come through the curtain.
The men climb stairs at the back of the dais, and the emperor settles into his throne. Caiden stands at his right, the priest at his left. Brevan stands next to, and slightly behind, Caiden.
A hush falls over the gathered group as the emperor stares out at his inner circle, his most loyal members of the court. At least that’s how Genevieve explained it to me.
The priest steps forward. “The gods have spoken through our mighty, wise emperor. I am here to share it with you as it was told to him.”
He lifts his hands, palms facing us, then closes his eyes. I almost laugh at how ridiculous he looks. He acts as if he is channeling something, but he already knows what he’s going to say.
And I am willing to bet my life that whatever it is, it did not come from the gods.
“Darkfall will bring great sorrow and ruin.”
Everyone around us murmurs. Even my ladies gasp and move a little closer together.
I watch Brevan. He doesn’t flinch. His eyes stare ahead, bored and distant.
His jaw is tense, his posture straight. The perfect model legionnaire.
Even his leather armor is impeccable. It looks more ceremonial than the armor I usually see him wear.
“To protect the peace and maintain balance, eight will enter the temple by morrow’s eve to ask the gods for their gifts.”
The murmurs explode into startled whispers. My pulse races. No one had ever gone before Darkfall.
“Hush. The message continues.”
The crowd quiets. I hold my breath.
“The gods have selected their eight. You will step forward when you hear your name.”
I know where this is going. My ears are ringing. The room suddenly feels too big, and my limbs are numb. I’m not watching anymore, it’s like I’m outside my body, hearing this through someone else’s ears.
He reads names I don’t recognize, and men step forward, masking their excitement with stoic expressions.
Then he looks at me. The emperor looks at me. Caiden and Brevan look at me. I can’t breathe.
When they say my name, it’s like I’m hearing it from underwater. I can’t make my legs move.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was supposed to be out of here before this.
“Sabina.” Caiden is in front of me, and he clasps my hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you as much as I can.”
I see myself closing my fingers around his hand. Moving my legs to walk forward to join the seven men who wait for their big moment. Their glances toward me are not kind. If I was left alone with them, they would certainly ensure I never made it to the ceremony.
Somewhere far away, I hear cheers and applause.
“Now we feast!” The emperor’s booming voice breaks my trance, and I suck in a breath, then blink a few times.
Caiden has returned to his father, and the men I was standing with have rejoined their friends and family. The mood is jubilant. People laugh and hug, and their conversations are excited and joyous.
My ladies are all standing where they were when I left them. Charlotte and Genevieve wear nervous smiles. Antonia and Anya don’t bother to try.
I walk over to them, and they surround me, whispering words of encouragement.
Anya manages to get next to me, and as we head to the ballroom, Anya and I slow down so the others can get a little distance. She leans close and whispers, “You and me, tonight, we run.”