Chapter 30
NOT PROPERTY
VEXAR
IGRIP MY flank in mock pain as I follow the Palatian guard through the snaking passageways. Sparks of concern flood my connection with Amara, sending anxiety tickling down the back of my neck. I cannot tell if she is in danger, or just … uncomfortable.
Gods, this is foolish. I should never have let her out of my sight. My knuckles crack as I clench my fists, working to keep myself calm. She has not opened and closed our tether yet. I need to trust that she is fine and that she can handle herself.
Gaius’s office is more suffocating than I remember—the endless array of artifacts now seems less like a curious collection and more like a museum of Gaius’s own insecurities.
Every new item, another attempt at filling a void he is incapable of filling any other way.
A part of me almost feels bad for the monster—he did not need to become what he is now—but that does not make me want to kill him any less.
“Vexar, what a lovely surprise,” Gaius croons.
Instead of responding, I inspect a shelf of old security devices and give one of them a gentle shove. He really does have a broad collection. With I sigh, I turn and face the stout usurper. He is sitting behind his stone desk, staring at my shirtless chest with an expression of pinched annoyance.
“Apologies for the lack of clothing, I was not given access to my personal effects,” I say as I gingerly lower myself into one of the stone chairs without invitation.
Gaius’s face contorts further as he tries to process my continuing disrespect.
This is a delicate dance. If I push him too far, I will get nothing from this meeting.
But if I am too respectful, I risk losing the air of a soon-to-be-deposed prince.
Leaning back comfortably, I ask, “Do you want to explain why a nurse was allowed into my cell, Gaius?”
His jaw tightens. “While you are under contract here, you will refer to me as Magistrate.”
I wait a beat and dip my head politely. “Apologies, Magistrate. Can you explain why a female nurse was allowed into my cell?”
A shadow of a smile crinkles his eyes before he quickly hides it with a frown.
He is clearly pleased with himself. “The nurse chose to disregard a direct order. I apologize for the situation and my delayed reaction, but my guards failed to notify me until this morning.” Lie.
“I would launch an investigation, but as we are both aware, you are needed on Vhorath by the end of the week, and that is not a sufficient amount of time to complete an investigation.” Another lie.
“Is it safe to assume this is why you requested a meeting?”
I suck my teeth and say, “It is.”
Unfazed by my clear frustration, he leans over the desk and picks up a decanter of water, pouring me a glass before gesturing to it. “Please.”
Keeping my eyes on him, I take the glass and tip the water to my closed mouth. I doubt he would try to poison me, but it is not worth the risk.
Seemingly gratified, he continues. “If you agree, I would like us to forgo the formal investigation and discuss the issue like old friends.”
I twirl the glass and watch the water dance. “Why?”
“I am sure you would rather not draw excess attention to the issue at hand?”
He is right. If I were in the position he believes me to be in, I would be less than eager to parade my broken vow for little more than an explanation. I nod in agreement.
“Excellent. I would like to hear your side of the story first.” He leans forward eagerly, watching me the way a child watches a wild animal behind a wall of glass. It is unsettling, as if he no longer sees me as a threat. “Let us start from your return to your cell, yes?”
I clear my throat and let a pained expression cross my face as the action shakes my ribs. The flicker of glee behind Gaius’s dark eyes is clear. I have convinced him that I will be easy to kill. That is good.
“I was wounded during my fight,” I explain, keeping my knowledge of his involvement out of the conversation.
“I was bleeding and knew I could not receive medical treatment.” I offer him a humorless smile and set the glass on his desk.
His expression remains passive, but his eyes never leave my hands.
It is clear he still views me as a physical threat, but he is too calm, as if he is not sitting across from a man who could destroy his entire life.
I continue explaining the events that followed my injury, telling him the relevant details up to the point of Amara arriving outside my cell door.
All the while, he listens with rapt attention, showing no signs of concern.
He should be fearful that his treasonous plan will come to light.
He should be anxiously hanging on to my every word, praying I have not figured him out.
But instead, his only anxiety is what I am doing with my hands.
I have missed something.
“Then, I fell unconscious from blood loss,” I say.
“And after that?”
“When I woke up, I had been stitched together, and there was a female nurse in my cell.”
“And what happened after you discovered the nurse?” he asks. I open my mouth, ready to tell an edited version of the events following my discovery of Amara, but he stops me with a raised hand. “And do not tell me you did not have her. My guards informed me of her nakedness.”
Outwardly, I show nothing. Inwardly, I feel a wave of terror. I should have ensured Amara was dressed before the guards came. That was a mistake on my part.
Keeping my face calm, I give a casual shrug.
“I looked, yes. She broke my vow, so I made her pay penance.” I flick my hand nonchalantly while my stomach tightens with discomfort.
Then I tell him how terrified she was of me when I woke up.
I laugh, adding to the callous nature of my story. It is painful, but necessary.
When I have finished, I say, “I would like to see that she is properly punished for her actions upon my return to Vhorath. If you will allow me to take her, that is.”
He smiles knowingly, unsurprised by my request. “That is something that can be discussed. But first, I would like to ensure the matter of her transgression has been fully resolved. At least as far as it pertains to this establishment.”
We spend a short while discussing how this was allowed to happen before I ask, “Will the guards who failed to prevent her entry be punished?”
He gives me a pensive look and folds his hands over his stomach. “In time.”
“What about restitution for the damages I have suffered?”
“Is your life not payment enough?” His confidence is out of place and confusing.
I feel off balance. I assumed I had the upper hand when I entered this meeting, but now I am not so sure.
As a test, I remain silent, not providing him with an answer.
It takes only a few seconds before he’s shifting uncomfortably and says, “That is all I can offer you.”
With a sigh, I say, “I will take that into consideration when I write my report.”
To my surprise, the mention of a formal report sparks no fear in Gaius.
“Can we consider the matter closed?” he asks.
“For now.”
“Excellent. On to the next order of business, then. You mentioned taking the nurse with you.” He pulls a paper scroll from beneath his desk, unfurling it before him with a ridiculous flourish of his hand.
“You also mentioned a renegotiation of your contract to … Elex.” That must be the Temtárh I spoke to.
He pushes the scroll towards me. “This is a revised contract that includes the verbiage required for you to take the nurse.”
Ice floods my veins. He knew I would want to take her with me.
I raise a single brow, allowing some of my surprise to leak through, as I say, “That was rather forward.”
“It is just good business. Now, I’ll leave the choice up to you. You can either complete your current contract, as planned, and leave the nurse behind, or you can stamp this revised contract.” His lip curls dangerously. “It requires an extra fight, of course.”
“And why would I agree to that?”
“I cannot allow my property to leave without suitable compensation.”
Property. That word heats my blood and sends the shadow in my depths scrambling for purchase.
Gaius knew I would want to save Amara’s life.
He was confident enough to have a revised contract drafted before I even spoke to him.
Had I not bonded with her, I still would have negotiated for her freedom—it is in my nature—but Gaius does not know that.
He does not know me. I am a very private person, and beyond my immediate family, there are few who know me well enough to foretell my actions.
What am I missing?
With my throat tight and heart racing, I scan through the contract. It is exactly as expected. Gaius gets what he wants—my very public shaming and multiple chances to end my life. And I get what I want—expedited fights and Amara.
“It says here that the nurse’s contract will be transferred to me? Not cleared?” I ask.
“Correct. She will be your property to do with as you please.”
Property. There’s that word again. I want to strangle Gaius, but I resist the urge and continue reading. When I reach the section discussing my failure, I pause. The terms are fine, but the phrasing is … oddly familiar.
My stomach drops as I realize why.
Amara was right. It is not just Gaius.
Willing my voice to remain disinterested, I ask, “And if I do not agree to this, what will happen to the nurse?”
“She will be given the opportunity to fight in the arena, just like every other criminal.”
“So you will kill her,” I say.
“Oh no, I will not kill her. But she will die, yes.”
I lean back and scratch the scruff on my chin as if contemplating my choices. “Three fights?” I ask. “While wounded? All today?”
“Those are the terms.”
I smile humorlessly. “Rather steep terms.”
He tilts his head in a subtle shrug, showing his indifference to my protest. I do not want to sign this contract, not now that I know there is a third party involved, but I have no other choice.
Amara is in the care of Gaius’s guards. If I kill him, I cannot ensure her safety.
If I do not sign, she will be executed. There is only one option.
I plunge a fang into my thumb and leave a bloody print on the bottom of the scroll. “It would be wrong of me not to offer her justice,” I say, handing the contract back to Gaius with a pained grunt. “She saved my life. If nothing else, she deserves a trial.”
He takes the scroll and uses an ink pad, not blood, to stamp his print next to mine. It is still legally binding, but it feels like a slight. A slight I am forced to ignore.
I spend the next few minutes ensuring Gaius creates electronic copies of the relevant documents and sends them to my ship. A paper trail will be necessary when he inevitably claims Amara abandoned her contract.
By the time we are done, Gaius looks annoyed as he waves his hand to dismiss me. “The guards will escort you to the preparation chamber.”
I rise slowly from the chair, still playing the part of an injured gladiator.
But instead of leaving, I turn towards the wall of artifacts and drag my finger over a dusty shelf.
“Tell me, Magistrate, when was the last time you spoke to my sister?” I glance over my shoulder just in time to watch Gaius’s face contort with alarm.
Truthfully, I should have realized it sooner.
Gaius is not known to be clever, but my sister certainly is, and her ambition knows no bounds.
The betrayal is painful, but not in the way I would have thought.
It feels like a rebuke against my own judgment.
A confirmation that Amara is more right than I care to admit.
That I have been blinded for too long, refusing to see the uncomfortable truths in front of me.
Gaius stutters out a few incoherent words before turning in his chair to file away the stamped contract behind him.
Hands in my pockets, I duck through the doorway and offer Gaius one last nerve-wracking thought. “Oh, if you do speak with Aelrith, let her know her eldest brother says hello.”