Chapter 44
The palace floors are cold to my bare feet, my skin still burning from the scouring. Like the washmaiden was determined to strip off any confusion about who I am, to remind me of the lowborn underneath.
Guards march behind and ahead of us, their stingers glinting in the torchlight, making it clear—this is still a prison. Caelus walks beside me, his hand in mine. Let them all know, let them all see. This love is not a strategy. It’s true. The heat of him steadies me. We don’t speak. No one does.
Rhythe and Ivy are behind us.
Kade and Talia in front.
Dorian survived. He drags his feet at the very front, listless, shoulders hunched.
They came for us before dinner. Caelus and I had moved to my room for my things.
I found the Heartfiller the Benevolent gave me, and I left it on my vanity with a handwritten note: You may find you need this more than me.
I’m ashamed how close I came to depending on it, when opening myself up to love was what my heart needed to start healing.
The Mercyenforcers took us outside without a word.
Scrubbed us raw. Reminded us with every slap of cold water that none of us are winners.
Not yet. Then they dressed us in thin linen robes.
The same robes they put me in to be executed.
They lead us out of the palace, across the bridge, toward the arena.
Inside, the world turns gold. The entire place has been changed.
Regal and draped in purple with florals everywhere.
The décor is a lavish display of jewel-encrusted everything, from goblets to linens draped from the ceiling.
Flowers made of sparkling crystals, clustered arrangements that sparkle like a night with the brightest stars.
The Citadel’s power and wealth fully on display.
Guards flank the iron gates to the floor, and between them, I catch a glimpse of the rotunda of death.
The Ascension Ceremony is opulence incarnate. Gold-veined columns rise from a central dais like reaching arms. On the platform sits a long ceremonial table, polished so bright it gleams like water. Two identical ceremonial chalices sit in the center.
I’m nudged forward by a guard before I can see any more.
We’re funneled into a small waiting room, just outside the grand arena.
No windows. No voices. Only breath and nerves where everyone waits in eye-shifting silence.
Caelus and I went over our plan a dozen times today.
He will cause a scene, acting inconsolable, jealous over the winners.
He’ll pull attention, triggering the guards to restrain him.
While they handle him, I’ll move, catching the shards before they fall and sealing them in a vial.
There are three public exits to the arena, all guarded.
But there is one secret exit from the arena, Caelus explained, in case his family ever needed to make a sudden escape.
That’s the route we’ll take out of the Citadel.
The medic will be waiting there with Serafina.
Once we clear the Citadel, I can get us where we need to go using the smuggling tunnels.
It’s a good plan. Not foolproof, but it’s the plan we have. It will work. It has to. I know what they do with thieves. If they catch us, whatever they do will be far worse.
We can’t fail.
The room waits in a silence that tightens around us. My stomach knots, but Caelus’s hand finds mine. Then the air shifts as the doors to our waiting room open. The arena roars so loudly the walls tremble.
“Courage. Loyalty. Strength.”
I go still.
Caelus squeezes my hand again. Not soft this time—urgent.
It’s time.