Chapter 21 To Be Judged
The moment he said the word queen, my body betrayed me.
My head shook before I could stop it, a reflexive denial that sent a scatter of breathless, half-formed protests tumbling from my mouth, too quiet and too incoherent to matter.
The word felt impossibly heavy on my shoulders, like something that belonged to another life entirely.
Another version of me that did not exist yet and might never be allowed to.
Heat crept into my cheeks, my pulse roaring in my ears as I struggled to envision the future he spoke of, as if it were already decided.
Theron watched my reaction play out with open interest.
The light from the high windows caught along the dark fabric of his tunic as he shifted, picking up subtle threads woven through it.
The fabric moved with him like it belonged to his body, the open front revealing the hard planes of his chest beneath, marked and scarred.
Every inch of him radiated a confidence that made my skin prickle.
His mouth curved slowly, a smirk that held no apology, only amusement at my discomfort.
Before I could regain any sense of composure, Aster’s voice cut sharply through the thickening silence.
“I take it you still have the torch.”
The sound of his hooves shifted against the stone floor as he spoke, a subtle scrape and thud that echoed faintly through the vast chamber.
I felt the vibration of it through my boots, through the soles of my feet.
For a fleeting, irrational moment, I wondered how much pressure it would take before the stone beneath him cracked. Before his restraint finally slipped.
Theron’s gaze left me with infuriating slowness and settled on Aster instead.
“I do,” he granted simply.
Hope flared in my chest like a treacherous beast.
“So, you’ll help us?” I asked, the words spilling out before I could stop them, my eyes flicking back to him just in time to catch the way his grin deepened.
“I will consider it, yes. But at a price of course,” he replied.
Aster scoffed, the sound loud enough to be rude, and he shifted his weight again as one hoof stamped more firmly than before.
“Of course, everything has a price with you,” he muttered in disdain.
Theron did not rise to the insult. He regarded Aster coolly, as if measuring something unseen, his expression unreadable.
“I hold no allegiance to your king,” he said. “Just as I am certain he owes none to me. Tell me, as his second in command, if I required the aid of The?kós, would it answer?”
The silence that followed stretched uncomfortably long.
I looked down without meaning to, my gaze catching on the pale marble beneath my boots, tracing the fine, vein-like lines that ran through it like preserved bone.
The patterns twisted and branched, each one unique, frozen mid-flow, and I wondered how many truths had been spoken and judged atop this very floor.
I forced my head up, keeping Theron in my sight. He tilted his head slightly at Aster, pressing his point home.
“If this darkness ravaged my lands and left yours untouched,” he continued, “Would your king race here to offer his aid? Or would you all thank the gods it was not your people who suffered?”
Aster’s silence was answer enough.
“It is easy to condemn those who remain fortunate,” Theron added mildly, “When you are the one in need.”
Aster exhaled slowly, a controlled release of breath that did nothing to disguise the tension rolling off him.
“There is something I want,” Theron said flatly, and my mind instantly went to the lightning dagger.
“No… the dagger, you can’t have it! I told you, we need it to defeat…”
Theron’s attention slid back to me, so strong I felt it physically, the weight of his gaze pinning me in place. He commanded me with just a look as my plea faded to silence.
“I have no interest in taking your dagger,” he replied.
“If it is anything from the palace’s treasury, I can assure you the king will grant it if you help us,” Aster said.
“What I want is nothing you can give,” he said pointedly at Aster before turning his heavy gaze back to me once more. “Her, however…” The words lingered. “Oh yes,” he continued, the corners of his mouth twisting up. “You and I, my dear, can come to an agreement quite easily.”
A chill crept down my spine and settled deep in my stomach.
“And the good news,” he went on, “Is that it will not cost you anything. Not yet anyway.”
“I don’t understand,” I said, the admission slipping out before I could stop it.
He lifted a hand, and I fell silent instantly.
“What I require from you is a promise,” he said. “As simple as that.”
“A promise?” I echoed, my fingers curling unconsciously into the fabric of my sleeves again.
“I have a feeling your future is already set,” he replied. “And I am willing to wager on what that future is. Enough to part with one of my most precious artefacts.”
My heartbeat thundered, loud enough that I was certain he could hear it.
“Don’t mistake me, I am not doing this to help The?kós,” he added, making me frown at the cruel admission.
“Then why are you doing this?” I asked, my voice quiet.
He studied me for a long moment, the green of his eyes darkening as if something even deadlier than him stirred beneath the surface.
“Because there are things a king desires more than treasure,” he said.
“More than peace upon his land.”
“I still don’t understand what a promise from me could possibly give you,” I argued.
“You can leave that to me,” he replied, his eyes gleaming.
“What I require is a vow that when the time comes, you will aid me in any way you can. Use your influence if you must.”
“I won’t hurt anyone,” I said quickly. “I won’t…”
His gaze snapped to mine, and the words died on my tongue.
“I do not intend to force you to harm anyone,” he said evenly. “And when the time comes, you will understand that as well.”
The tension between us pulsed in the air.
“But right now, The?kós hangs in the balance. As does its king. The question is how far you are willing to go to save it? To save the man you claim to love?”
The words tightened around my throat like a noose. Better the devil you know, a voice whispered in the back of my mind, and I hated how true it felt right now.
“When will you collect?” I asked.
He shook his head once, smirking at my question.
“It will be a time of my choosing.”
“And you promise no one will be harmed?”
“I give you my word.”
Aster stepped closer, his shoulder brushing mine, his voice low and strained.
“Alex, I don’t like this.”
“What other choice do we have?” I murmured, turning toward him. “Without the Weaver’s torch, none of this matters.”
He looked at me like he already feared what I might be sacrificing, though neither of us truly knew.
“She will not be harmed,” Theron said coolly. “If that is your concern. Now do not try my patience, for this offer will not stand for long… now which is it… yes or no?”
I closed my eyes briefly, then stepped forward.
When I extended my hand and his fingers closed around mine, power rippled beneath my skin.
A deep glimmer of stone and flesh as they merged from one to the other.
Like something ancient within him was shifting in response to our bargain.
The sensation washed through me, a pull so subtle and dangerous it left me unsteady, as if the longer he held me, the more of myself he could uncover.
Then he simply… let me go.
“Excellent,” he said with a smile.
“So you’ll give us the torch?” I asked, rubbing my palm as if to ground myself, unsettled by how deeply his touch had affected me.
“All in good time,” he replied. “But first…” My stomach dropped, knowing this was when the penny dropped and I was right when he said, “It is time for the test.”
“The test?” I echoed. “But we had a deal.”
“That we did, and we still will, but first, every vow must be confirmed by the judgment of the gods,” he said as he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming.
“I… I…” I could barely form words, and I had a feeling I had just gotten myself into a whole new world of trouble.
“Just because you gave me your word does not mean I can trust it. After all, I don’t know you.”
I swallowed hard and told him, “I wouldn’t lie.”
“No,” he agreed, his smile sharpening. “Then in that case, you have nothing to fear, now do you?”
Except I did. I had a lot to fear, in fact, because I had no idea how this test even worked. After all, I was sure people had failed lie detectors before from being too nervous. What if that was the case here?
“Your test, what happens if I fail?” I asked carefully, which at this stage I thought was a great question. But then again, he wasn’t about to let me off from doing the test for showing some intelligence now, was he?
This time, his grin was openly unnerving, excitement flickering beneath the surface.
“Your words will be judged,” he said. “Your truth weighed.”
“And if I fail?” I dared to ask again.
“Then it is simple,” he replied calmly. “You will be turned to stone. And when judgment is complete… to dust.” Theron turned first, the decision already made. “Now, shall we proceed?” he said, stepping away from us. He lifted one hand, not toward me, but toward Aster.
“You,” he said without looking back, “Will walk behind us.” The command came quietly but still oozed authority.
Aster stiffened, his hooves scraping against the stone, the sound sharp in the sudden silence.
For a heartbeat, I thought he might argue, might bare his teeth and push back.
But then he caught my eye. The look he gave me was tight with restraint, a promise to endure it for now, even as every instinct in him bristled against being ordered around.
Theron stopped beside me and extended his arm.
It wasn’t a demand, not even an invitation, but a sure indication of where he expected me to be.
I hesitated only a moment before stepping forward.