Chapter Five
CHAPTER FIVE
Her first thought was that Kadra’s tower resembled him.
Sarai’s eyes widened as she alighted from the raeda. Obsidian pillars framed the cavernous doorway of a structure easily a fifth of the Aequitas’s breadth. Fire danced in a single sconce, casting shadows swallowed by the ebony door. Behind her, an ornate gate swung shut. Neither door nor gate had been visible until the raeda had passed through Kadra’s wards.
Sarai apprehensively eyed the entrance. The night breeze carried the scent of citrus. Too gentle for lemon, too sweet to be lime. He must have an orange grove.
“Tetrarch Kadra awaits within.” Firelight illuminated the coachman’s gray hair and the deep smile lines around his mouth.
She wondered what anyone working for Kadra would have to smile about. “ Tibi gratias ago . I’m Sarai, by the way.”
“Cato.” He tilted his head toward the door, amused. “He doesn’t bite.”
No, he only burns people alive. With a steadying breath, Sarai stepped into a terrazzo-tiled atrium. Here, too, a single sconce was lit. The open-air roof typical of southern domii was conspicuously absent.
“Does Tetrarch Kadra have no use for light?”
Cato smiled. “An open roof is an invitation to his enemies. No matter how many people say otherwise, at the end of the day, Tetrarch Kadra’s only a man.”
She had a hard time believing that .
“That’s the tablinum.” Cato indicated the rightmost of two doors at the back of the atrium. “He wishes to speak to you alone.”
She could only imagine what conversation Kadra had in mind. Wiping clammy hands on her tunic, she discreetly reached for her armilla . Under the guise of taking a calming breath, she pricked her finger and pressed the dot of blood into zosta . Let’s see how often he lies. Steeling herself, she knocked.
“Come in,” called an all-too-familiar baritone.
With a deep breath, she pushed the handle down and stepped inside. Kadra’s study was less ostentatious than she’d expected. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves covered the walls, framing two reading couches. At the back, a winding staircase paused at a mezzanine before curving to the upper levels of the tower. On the right side of the study stood a stately desk littered with scrolls. And behind the desk sat the man himself.
Sarai met Kadra’s stare and froze. His hair was damp. Dark strands hung over his forehead, softening the harsh planes of his face. A loosely knotted robe gaped half-open down to his waist. She dragged her gaze up, trying and failing to ignore the expanse of tanned, hair-sprinkled muscle laid bare by the gap.
“Welcome.” The man she was doing her best not to stare at lazily tipped a wineglass in her direction.
Damn him . Approaching the desk, she bowed so low her head almost hit the wood.
“ Tibi gratias ago for the kind invitation, Tetrarch Kadra.” She managed to look everywhere but his chest.
A spark of amusement in his depthless stare. “It wasn’t kind, and it certainly wasn’t an invitation.”
“My thanks stands, nonetheless.”
He rose, the robe gaping wider at the movement. She fixated on his face. He was striking but lacked Aelius’s roguish beauty, a stamp of ruthlessness having hardened features that could have been classically beautiful .
“Sarai of Arsamea.” His voice was velvet, but there was nothing seductive in his cruel eyes. “Stormfall aside, how are you finding Edessa?”
Shivering despite her birrus, she crossed her arms. “Warm.”
“And the Aequitas?” He rounded the desk and placed his glass by her hand. The sweet haze of wine filled her nostrils.
“Loud.”
“And the Tetrarchy?”
“I’ve hardly met everyone.”
A brow rose. “So you don’t have an opinion?”
“I didn’t say that—” She froze upon realizing that he was barely a foot away. Too close. Why hadn’t she noticed? Normally, her body would have panicked by now.
Inhaling sharply, she took a step back. Kadra shot her an assessing glance, topping up his glass with half the contents of a wine bottle, before pouring the rest into another glass and holding it out to her.
It can’t be poisoned if he’s drinking it. She cautiously accepted. “Tetrarch Kadra, I’m not sure what response you’re looking for.”
“An honest one. Like you gave me last night.”
Damn you for bringing that up. But his answer rang clear. Truth. “Are you asking me about the Tetrarchy? Or the trial?”
“Both.”
She swallowed. “I thought it was monstrous. The trial.” You.
His eyes flickered with humor, as if he’d heard her unspoken verdict. Every hair on her body rose as he drew closer. And then he did the strangest thing. Raising a hand by her neck, he paused, as though awaiting permission.
Sarai waited for her body to protest his nearness, but it seemed to be in shock. Why was he asking for permission? Confused, she inclined her head. If he hurt her, she’d break his wrist, consequences be damned.
Something flickered across Kadra’s face. Long fingers brushed her neck, unpinning her birrus where it fastened at her throat. The fabric slid off her shoulders in a rustle that felt too loud. His eyes never left hers, amusement fading the longer he held her gaze. Her mouth went dry.
Then, he drew away.
She fought the urge to gasp for air as he hung her birrus by the entrance to his study. A frisson of heat uncurled within her, sliding through her limbs until her skin felt too tight.
Hav?d. No. Absolutely not. His voice was bad enough but this ? She smothered the wayward feeling, almost flinching when Kadra turned back to her.
“Are you afraid of me?” he asked matter-of-factly.
Visions bloomed in her head of Ennius shrouded in flame, shrieking. Of the monster leaning close and asking for permission before touching her.
“No.”
She flinched as a warm hand closed around her wrist. He raised it to her face, showing her the goosebumps on her skin.
“Really?” he asked dryly.
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“But?” He lowered her wrist before letting go.
“A bit unsettled, perhaps,” she whispered.
“Hmm.” He took a sip of wine, eyes boring into hers. “That’s a damn sight more useful than fear.”
Truth. She fought to maintain a calm exterior. Reaching for her glass, she gulped the wine. It slid down warm. Heady.
“Slowly now.” There was no mockery in his gaze, only cool assessment.
She wondered what had gone through his mind when he’d beheld her body. When he’d walked away. There hadn’t been any emotion in his beautiful voice while she’d been dying. And she was all aquiver simply because he’d touched—
Sarai set down the glass. “Thank you for the wine, Tetrarch Kadra. I should—”
“Why did you become a Petitor? ”
To find you. “To do some good in the world.” At his raised eyebrow, her jaw clenched. “To uphold the law, and see that justice is done.”
He digested that for a moment. “What sort of justice?”
“Fair and transparent.”
“Seen a lot of that, have you?”
“Not enough. But I intend to give as much as I can.”
A harsh burst of sound. Sarai started, only to realize that he was laughing. For a man with such a beautiful voice, the sound was ugly. Empty.
He smothered it with a sip of wine. “I take it that you don’t think highly of burning people alive.”
He was goading her. She clenched her jaw, refusing to answer.
“What of mutilation, then? Castration? Beheading?”
“Those all sound like the same thing,” she said through gritted teeth.
“And if I told you that was justice?”
Don’t say it. “I would say that you’re a Tetrarch, and I’m your Petitor of one day, so who am I to question your opinion?”
A corner of that hard mouth rose. “At least you know that trials aren’t won on sentiment.”
Her eyes narrowed. “No, they’re decided using the jurisprudence you didn’t consider at trial. The Corpus Juris Totus provides that the penalty for homicidium is death by hanging . Not by vaporizing in an inferno—” She halted at the predatory look entering Kadra’s eyes.
“Is that so?”
Hav?d . He’d provoked her. Made that crack about sentiment to force a response. And it had worked.
“Have you ever seen a hanging?” Kadra sounded curious.
She cleared her throat, cursing herself for taking the bait. “I’ve heard of one.” Some years back, a rapist had been hanged in Sal Flumen. A pull of a lever and a snap of the neck, they’d said. A scarce dent in the hour and it was over.
“What do you think of it? ”
She cast around for a response. “As a punishment, it seems”—she struggled with the word—“humane.”
“And you believe in a humane response to what Ennius did?”
“You don’t have to become a monster in order to punish one.”
“Ah.” He smiled laconically. “You’re morally superior.”
“ Like hells I—” Sarai’s lips pressed into a tight line. She’d come here for vengeance. Not to debate with this—her eyes made a wary ascent—six-foot lunatic. “My beliefs are unimportant. I was just surprised that the Tetrarchy condoned veering from established law.”
“There’s little the Tetrarchy doesn’t condone. Despite what I did today, I remain one of the most powerful people in Ur Dinyé.” He paused. “How does that reconcile with your beliefs?”
“The Tetrarchy didn’t give you power. The people did by electing you.”
“You disagree with their decision, then.”
She exhaled in a bid for composure. “Tetrarch Kadra, I’m in no position to make that assessment. As long as you serve the people in the manner they wish—which you’re doing excellently, if today’s cheering was any indication—my opinion is irrelevant.”
“And if I told you that your opinion is paramount?”
She threw up her hands. “By all the gods, why?”
“Because you’re going to have to choose.”
“Between?”
His face had never looked crueler. “The Tetrarchy. And me.”
Truth. She gaped for all of a second before a laugh burst out of her. Loud and incredulous. Her eyes watered as she clutched his desk for support.
“I can give you that answer now,” she managed between chuckles.
“Sleep on it.” Kadra’s gaze was inscrutable.
“It won’t change,” she informed him.
“Then you don’t have to give it now.” He didn’t even sound bothered.
“Why do I need to choose anyone?” she dared to ask. “You’re part of the Tetrarchy. ”
“I plan on tearing it apart.” There was something disturbing in his eyes. Not mockery or cruelty, something infinitely more worrying for its namelessness. “And you don’t want to stand in my way.”
True. Her good humor vanished. She didn’t realize she’d taken a step back until she nearly tripped over his reading couch.
“Why?” And why tell me?
“Because the law of this land is wrong,” he said quietly, watching her, every word ringing with truth. “And you know it.”
Her heart halted. A long-suppressed part of her snapped awake, rattling its cage, all hunger and sharp teeth, like it had been waiting for this very second. She shoved the ugliness back under, watching Kadra with the sinking realization that it had woken for him .
Kadra has a way of getting into people’s heads, Cisuré had warned.
How did you know? How did you see into me?
He looked even more amused at her silence. Reaching into his robe, he tossed her a key. “Upstairs. Left bedroom.” His gaze never left her. “Goodnight, Sarai of Arsamea.”
Too disconcerted to respond, she gave him a faint nod and headed up the stairs at the back of his study, tracing over the unfamiliar runes in the key as if they would ground her. This must be a key through his wards. She’d be able to enter Aoran Tower as she pleased.
Reaching the mezzanine overlooking Kadra’s tablinum, Sarai looked over the railing. She bit back a curse as the layout of Aoran Tower became clear. The tower’s only staircase began from Kadra’s study, baring the upper levels to his view. The moment she left her room, he would know. There would be no snooping around this tower unless it was empty .
The mezzanine held two rooms. Hers, and a door to the right that was probably his. Unlocking her quarters, she drew the bolt behind her and dropped her illusion, wincing as fatigue sank in from her prolonged use of magic. She could make no mistakes in Kadra’s tower and having nihumb and zosta active was going to drain her faster than the one-day estimate she had given Cisuré .
Threading the key onto a cord around her neck, she sank onto the four-poster bed, taking stock of an oak vanity, washbasin, wardrobe, and curtain-shielded window. She’d never had so much space . This room was palatial compared to Cretus’s shed. Even if I’m sharing walls with my assailant .
He had disarmed her tonight, all damp hair and open robes, but he was sorely mistaken if he thought that his muscled chest would make her lose sense. She had no trouble building a wall between her eyes and her mind.
Still, her unease persisted as she settled under the covers. He hadn’t lied once the entire night.
She blew out the candle atop the nightstand. Between one breath and the next, she fell into a turbulent sleep, where she fell and fell and fell.
And each time, it was Kadra who pushed her.