Chapter 4
IV.
Torren
The veranda of the Senate Hall is a second-story stone terrace overlooking the Forum. Because it is so close to the altar, sentries make way for us to walk through the crowd.
I keep my eyes sharp, because even though there are a hundred sentries in the Forum, there are thousands of citizens packing the square. Each one could pose a threat, and the mob is the most dangerous of all creatures. It is my duty to protect the Senate—no matter the risk or danger.
And no matter what I may feel about them personally.
I survey the crowd, ignoring the dozens of women clamoring for my attention by waving handkerchiefs and calling my title. Entanglements are a headache I don’t need. I have plenty of problems, including the one in front of me.
“What were you two chatting about on the dais?” Julian whispers.
I shoot him a look that says I won’t be answering. We are only a few feet behind Verhardt and the High Priestess.
Senator Verhardt comes to an abrupt halt, causing me to put my hand on the hilt of my sword and shift around them. Kerasea smiles at whoever they’re facing.
It’s just Verhardt’s thirteen-year-old son, along with a swarm of tutors, guards, and servants. The Senate Leader kisses him on both cheeks and exchanges some words I can’t overhear. The joy on the man’s face is genuine as he embraces his only heir.
The boy is the same age I was when my world was stripped away. But unlike me, there’s no way this gangly, pampered kid could survive it. I barely did.
An ocean of memories threatens to pull me under, but I push it all to the back of my mind. The woman who caused it hangs on Verhardt’s arm like a shining decoration.
I’ll admit that Kerasea is different than I expected.
As she is the only child of Osiris Vestal, of course I knew her.
Everyone does. But we have not been at any of the same events, and thus have never truly spoken.
She is more beautiful than I anticipated tonight, but that hardly matters.
Disturbingly adored and that, everyone noticed.
But there is something off, almost vulnerable about her.
She should’ve been victorious and proud after the crowd worshipped her, but she wasn’t.
She blanched when I raised an eyebrow, yet shot back when I insulted her.
She’s a contradiction, but one I can admit I don’t know nearly as well as I did her father.
I don’t want to get closer to her, but I have to keep an eye on her. Any priest this powerful poses a threat to the republic. And I already know she can deceive.
She and the Senate Leader resume walking, so I follow in stride. I scan for danger as he waves and shakes hands with some of the nobles, but really, I’m focused on the two of them.
“I understand you had a mal omen today,” Senator Verhardt says quietly.
“A black liver, charred and misshapen.” She matches his low tone. “The god speaks of death and chaos coming to Pryor.”
My muscles tense as she details the worst omen imaginable, but Kerasea is a skilled liar. This could all be a deception—but to what end?
Verhardt pauses or I can’t hear him…until I do. “Share the omen at the conclave, though not tonight. I called for additional sentries, but I don’t want to spoil the Revelry for our honored guests.”
Kerasea stumbles a step, her ruby lips parting. Surprise scrawls across her face, but she quickly makes her expression neutral, as if it never happened.
“As you wish,” she says.
Verhardt smiles like a wolf as they continue on, but I exchange glances with Julian. He caught it, too—something is afoot. The Senate Leader has no reason to keep the mal omen a secret, which means he has a hidden motive.
I now have until dawn to figure out what it is.