CYRIC:
“This is one of the leaders of the Cirali Warriors,” Vallin said, “captured in the Selkian battle.”
The room broke into gasps. I tried to keep my eyes from widening, and even study Lox so that I could determine if he recognized what I did, but I couldn’t even look away from her.
Lox rose abruptly from the throne. “A Cirali Warrior?” he repeated.
Just his tone knotted my insides. What was I going to do? The last time he’d seen Ellia, I’d told him she was dead. After the battle with Karatel, I’d just hoped and assumed Lox would never get close enough to tell who she was. She wouldn’t look like a princess in armor anyways—or at least she shouldn’t have. But I hadn’t anticipated this. And I’d forgotten her eyes. Those bright turquoise eyes weren’t like anything else; looking at them now, I knew no man would ever forget them after seeing them once
Lox turned his head, just slightly towards me, and my pulse sped. I tried not to show any reaction. Then when I looked back at Ellia, she was looking at me. Her chest rose high as her nostrils flared; and I knew I’d accomplished everything I’d intended the last time I’d seen her. She hated me. She hated me probably more than she hated anyone. Before I could force myself to display indifference, she looked back at Lox.
“She wasn’t the leader of the attack,” Vallin went on, “But it was thanks to her that we lost the man who was.”
“Did she have a chimera?” Lox asked, his tone careful.
“Of course,” Vallin hesitated, “Though we weren’t able to kill it. It got away with the other Warrior.”
Ellia made a sobbing sound. It drew remarks from the crowd and her head dropped. When she looked back up her cheeks were wet with tears, but they were tears of relief and even triumph; she now met Lox’s gaze confidently. So she hadn’t known her chimera survived? I wanted to scoff. How foolish did a Cirali Warrior have to be to separate from their greatest asset in battle? And she seemed to do it constantly. Now, thanks to her, if Lox realized…
“She has powers, doesn’t she?” Lox asked.
Vallin’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “She did. We trapped them in a dispel stone. They were allowing her to disappear, and escape her chains. She nearly escaped once already. But I took great care that we didn’t lose her.” Vallin put a hand on her cuffs and shook them, then he brought his hand up to her cheek. “If only we had known Cirali Warriors were such exceptional specimens, we would certainly have been killing them less and capturing them more.”
Ellia shoved herself against his arm, knocking him back. The men nearest Vallin laughed, while the Lieutenant grimaced with distaste.
“I’d like to see the stone,” Lox said, ignoring the display.
As Vallin turned around to one of his aides, I was torn between keeping quiet and trying to go to Lox and say something. I would have already if we were alone.
Ellia’s gaze widened at the mention of the dispel stone. Her eyes followed Vallin greedily as he carried it forward to Lox. I even thought I saw the smallest hint of a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. So she thought she could steal it back and escape? She should have done so already.
Lox rolled the amber stone between his fingers, then he jutted his chin in my direction. He spoke very slowly. “What do you think, Lieutenant Dracla, of a Cirali Warrior with the ability to disappear? It seems a very rare combination.”
My ears got hot; I could hear my own heart beating in them. Half of the crowd looked at me.
Lox turned his head the rest of the way and met my eyes. Once he saw my face, he smiled.
“Honored guests,” he said, addressing the chamber, “It seems Vallin has stumbled upon a much greater prize than he’s yet realized. This girl is no simple Cirali Warrior. She is a princess. Of Shaundakul.”
The crowd broke into gasps.
“Isn’t that right, Ellia Solidor?” Lox finished.
There was a moment of silence. Then Ellia lunged forward to attack him, but she was immediately jerked back by her chains. Lox laughed in her face. “Have her unchained,” he instructed, moving back to his throne. He didn’t look in my direction. I was no longer leaning against the pillar. I stood upright. The chamber was in chaos, not only the soldiers now but all the women and servants pointed towards Ellia with murmuring.
As Vallin unlocked Ellia’s chains—a newfound carefulness in his treatment—he addressed Lox. “I don’t understand. How could a Warrior of Cirali be a Shaundakulian? let alone the princess. Do you mean the daughter of Savras Solidor?”
“Who else?” Lox drawled, now seated. “Weren’t you present at the battle of Uldin Keep, Vallin? You know how many were left alive. This one has been to Akadia before.” Lox leaned onto one arm. “But even I would like to know how she came to be a Warrior. Perhaps the princess will grace us with an explanation. Last I heard,you were dead.” Lox emphasized the last word; it felt like a jab to my stomach. Ellia looked quickly between Lox and me. Lox went on. “You’ve certainly come a long way.”
Ellia’s hands broke free. She exhaled, rubbing her wrists mechanically. Her eyes met Lox’s as darkly as Rabaus’ had, then she spoke. “If only I could say the same for you.”
It was the first time she’d said anything. It sent the chamber whispering. And though she’d been looking at Lox, I knew the words weren’t for him.
Lox laughed loudly. “So you haven’t lost your voice. Come, don’t be bitter, princess. This hall has rarely been graced by one of your standing. Tell us of your travels.”
Ellia remained silent.
“Tell us of Yanartas,” he went on.
Ellia scoffed. “I shouldn’t waste the description of a single grain of Yanartian sand on pigs such as you.”
Lox frowned, his eyes turning dark “But what about your kinsmen? Surely you remember that Shaundakul has joined Akadia peacefully? Can you recognize them around you? Imagine what it’s like for them to see their princess brought back to life? Surely you owe them an explanation.”
Ellia recoiled, sparing glances at the soldiers closest to her, but then she tightened her jaw and addressed Lox. “If there are Shaundakulians here, they’re no kinsman of mine. No one who fights for Akadia could be a true Shaundakulian.”
“You say that as if it should be an insult,” Lox chuckled. The crowd joined in the laughter. “All those who’ve chosen to join Akadia never regret it,” he added.
The chamber echoed with cries of affirmation.
Ellia didn’t speak.
“Admit it, princess,” Lox said, “you’re surrounded by Akadians, and enemies to the Cirali. It would be best for you to reconsider your loyalties.”
“The Cirali will see the end of you, Lox,” Ellia countered. “They will see the end of all of you!”
“With what? Their chimera? Perhaps you missed the battle in Selket—they no longer pose a threat to us.”
“We fight Akadia with more than chimera and weapons. We fight with truth. We warn the other kingdoms of the way you work: Pretending to be their allies and then turning around and taking everything from them—it’s the worst sort of evil.”
“This claim I’ve heard repeatedly,” Lox said, “and yet it seems that when we offer these native people a place in Akadia, they’re only too willing to abandon their nation and join us.”
“Because of your lies!”
“Because we are stronger.” The entire chamber fell silent. Lox tipped his head and spoke casually. “You will come to realize this too, Princess. You’ll see the might of Akadia, and you will serve us.”
“I’ll never join you!”
Lox chuckled, even as he looked down at the stone in his hand and rolled it around. Ellia’s gaze once again fell upon it. I watched her fingers flexing—she can’t have been more obvious of her intentions and I knew Lox must have noticed.
“I would rather the power of your heritage not pass from you, Princess,” Lox said, “But I can see it in your eyes what you might do to possess this.”
Ellia’s reaction showed anything but contradiction to his words. But Lox’s expression I knew even better. He had a plan; I didn’t know what it was, but he had one. He rose once more from his throne, then he addressed the chamber. “A princess is a great mark of distinction for whoever possesses her. King, country,… but I can think of only one man who deserves the honor of owning this, the Princess of Shaundakul.”
The crowd rolled with mutterings. I couldn’t believe what he’d just said myself. What could he be thinking? Surely not to give her to someone here? The officers nearest Ellia turned greedy gazes on her, seeming to view her for the first time as something they might possess for themselves. I felt my chest constrict at the sight.
Ellia ignored the stares on her, undaunted, still meeting eyes with Lox. She didn’t appear even remotely threated by Lox’s words. In fact, she looked glad that Lox had said it.
All this at least, until he spoke.
“Cyric,” he called.
Ellia’s smile instantly fell. Her eyes widened and shot to me, the color fading from her face, but I didn’t hold her gaze long. I looked at Lox, with just as much surprise as Ellia had exhibited—though I didn’t make it so obvious to everyone else. I heard murmurings, felt the attention of the entire chamber.
Lox gestured me closer to him. I obeyed him mechanically.
“You can present the princess of Shaundakul to the king on my behalf when you return to Akadia,” he said. “Otherwise she’s in your charge. You’ll take good care of her, won’t you son?”
He held his hand out, opening it to reveal the amber stone. He turned his gaze on Ellia. I didn’t understand what was happening. He must have realized I’d lied to him—now he was rewarding me? Still, there were too many soldiers watching us to question him here. I reached out and took the stone.
Ellia looked as if she’d been frozen. She met my eyes, really looking at me for the first time, then she sank to the marble floor.
#
I didn’t see her again before she was taken away. The party went on with much more vigor than it had been promising to exhibit before. Vallin led some of us outside to see the scorpios; I only followed to be near Lox. I wanted to speak with him, needed to, but he wouldn’t even meet my gaze, as if the matter being discussed was trivial.
Finally he ordered Vallin back to Selket and retired to his room. I waited only moments before going to find him. His quarters were near the center of the palace, up a set of spiral stairs, a level above the throne room.
His heavy oak door was open when I came close. I heard the sound of laughing, then a woman appeared in front of me, looking backwards into the room and smirking. She jumped when she saw me, then giggled again and moved around me to descend the staircase.
I regarded her with a short glare. She was a Katellian, beautiful, but if she thought she was going to win Lox’s attention, she was kidding herself. Lox had Veera—he didn’t need inferior handmaidens. But why was I thinking about this now? Stalling? How stupid.
With a tight throat, I walked inside Lox’s room. It was large, but closed-in. The only spaces leading out were blocked behind doors of dark glass. He stood beside his desk, a hand stretched towards the stack of papers lying on top it, and he was looking down.
“I expected you to come,” he said. His voice was deep and airy, as if he’d been holding his breath to speak. This tone he used rarely, but it always managed to intimidate me the most.
I swallowed and marched towards him. “I can explain.”
“Cyric,” he interrupted, stressing his tone, “Why do I get the sense that you’re about to launch into one of your self-deprecating apologies? Don’t we know each other better than that?”
I jolted to a stop. He looked up, one of his brows low in sympathy.
“But, the princess,” I said. “I thought…”
“You thought that since you lied to me about her death, I’d be angry with you? Honestly, boy, that was months ago—when you’d just begun to trust me.”
I felt my stomach knot with guilt.
“I’m only sorry that you didn’t feel you could tell me before now. Did you know that she was a Warrior?”
My eyes fell to the floor. Cracks of marble held my attention while I tried to build the courage to speak. “At the battle of Karatel, for the capitol. I saw her with a chimera.”
“Saw her?” Lox repeated. “Did you fight her?”
I remained silent. I wanted to answer him, but I didn’t want to lie to him again, and I couldn’t bring myself to say I’d let her go when I knew it would displease him.
“I see,” Lox said, just the same. “Do you know how she became a Warrior?”
I shook my head. “I haven’t spoken with her since I was with you in Akadia. She’s always talked about joining the Cirali though.”
“She’ll be stirring up trouble with her position. If they made her a Warrior, they must believe that she’s the princess. Although… she lost the crown that proves her birth in Akadia, didn’t she?”
I nodded. I recalled the night in the granted temple, telling Lox how the Shaundakulian crown changed when she was near. Then picking it up from the ground where she’d fallen. Then listening to him tell me I may as well get rid of it.
Lox hesitated; he considered me carefully. I felt more and more self-conscious all the time, then Lox’s brows lifted. He suddenly smiled. “You kept it?”
I thought of the crown, in my desk back in Akadia. I hadn’t seen it in weeks, now I wished I’d done away with it long ago. “It’s in Akadia,” I admitted.
Lox’s smile grew; from amusement to satisfaction. “Clearly, I’ve underestimated you Cyric. It was wise not to dispose of it.” Lox ran a hand over his chin. “This is very good news. Once you arrive in Akadia, you will return it to her. I feared that Molec might not acknowledge her without proof—even on my word. Now both he and the council will have no choice but to allow the behemoths’ cavern to go into production on our new weapon.”
“I don’t understand. Why would Ellia make a difference with that?”
“Spoils, boy, We won Ellia in the Selkian battle—thanks to the chimera weapons. A foreign princess is an asset to any court. Molec, in particular, will be greatly pleased by her beauty. He loves such as her idling about his court.”
“You mean to give her to him then?” I asked.
Lox narrowed, then lifted one incredulous brow. “Of course not, Weren’t you listening? I gave her to you.”
“For good? I couldn’t… I wasn’t sure you meant that.”
“I mean everything I promise you, Cyric. Don’t you see that you deserve it? The soldiers did—Molec will as well. You’re a celebrated warrior, perhaps the most famous in Akadia. On top of that, you’re from Shaundakul. In a way you already have a claim on her.”
I stayed very still, trying to contemplate what he was saying and all it meant. I didn’t mind the fact that it would increase my status, and I definitely didn’t mind the fact that Lox had rewarded me, but the reality of living with Ellia… I supposed once I was back at war, it wouldn’t matter. She would remain in Akadia; I’d be gone. In a way I’d even be doing her a favor, keeping her out of the wrong side of the war, and all her reckless attempts to battle.
“Above all, we don’t want the council using her for their own purposes,” Lox said, “and we don’t want Molec turning her into his newest dalliance. That she belongs to you will keep them from taking advantage of her. It won’t be long before all of Akadia knows the renowned Lieutenant Dracla possesses the princess of Shaundakul—then they won’t be able to touch her.”
“What if she resists?” I asked.
Lox frowned. “Do you have the stone?”
Locking my jaw, I reached into my pocket and pulled it out.
“Without her powers, she won’t be able to escape Akadia. Eventually she’ll accept her fate.”
“Why don’t you keep it here?” I asked, holding the stone out to him. It made my skin rush where it touched me, and unnerved me to say the least.
“Please,” Lox scoffed. “That’s hardly necessary. Didn’t you see her face when I called you forward?”
I narrowed, not responding.
“Another man she may have killed to earn her freedom. But she won’t kill you. So long as you keep the stone on your person, she’s as good as powerless.”
I recalled Ellia’s expression when Lox had called me forward, her features switching from satisfaction to despair. If she really would have killed another man to get the stone, then she wasn’t the same person I had once known.
“You realize though, Cyric, you must be careful.” Lox said. The mockery in his tone drew my gaze back on him. “The girl obviously favors you. I don’t expect you not to do what you like with her, in fact I encourage it, it will dissuade Molec all the much more. But don’t allow yourself to become too attached. I don’t want you distracted.”
“That’s not going to happen,” I said.
Lox grew a smile. “Of course. Perhaps you can even use your position to get information from her. It would be invaluable, for instance, to learn where the Isle of Yanartas connects to the larger continents. You should have plenty of time for all of this in Akadia.”
I nodded, trying not to think too much of the long trip to the city. There was no chance of me riding ahead with Tosch now; Lox would want me to stay with Ellia.
“And Cyric, there is one more thing I need you to do for me while you’re there. I was going to wait until I returned, but with recent events it might be too important.”
I met his eyes. They were more intent than I expected. He nodded past me. “Go close the door, first.”
ELLIA:
I felt my fists coiling with rage. I would have killed them—I would have killed anyone that Lox had left me with, I’d already determined to. I’d been in battles. I knew how to kill evil men. But why had it been Cyric? I thought of Lox’s eyes, smiling in triumph. He knew. He knew I would never kill Cyric and he’d used it against me.
I slammed the wall of my small cage. I’d been locked in a chamber that resembled a closet more than anything. It could have been one for all I knew. It was square, and tight, and white stone that made me cough it was so dusty. Before they’d brought me here, they’d cleaned me. Now I wore a dress of gold satin. Very similar to the dresses Amalia wore, it clung tightly and wasn’t heavy; I was able to jump up and bash against the door well enough.
“Let— me—”
Amidst my final pound I heard a creak. I backed away as the door opened. I didn’t know who I expected to see, but my heart beat high in my chest. A servant man appeared, young and strong, with another at his side. I breathed a sigh of relief for just a moment, until they opened the door further and I saw a third figure, his arms crossed over his Lieutenant’s armor of dark iron and gold, his chin jutted high.
As with the first time I’d seen him, leaning against the pillar in the throne-room, I was taken aback, my how full of life he looked—a vast difference from his appearance on the battlefield of Karatel. His skin was sun-worn, red, and almost flushed, as if he’d just gone for a run or fought a battle. His eyes were sharp and bright. His hair was short and as dusky as ever—except in the front where longer, lighter strands turned gold.
With a gesture that couldn’t have displayed more annoyance, he waved for the servants to seize me, and turned.
As soon as the first one reached for me, I slapped his arm away, then I used the wall to push against another one.
“That’s enough,” Cyric barked.
It was the first words I’d heard him speak. I forced myself to hate the tone—no matter what affect they truly had on me. I remembered the last time I’d heard him, shouting that he hated Shaundakul, that he was glad it had been destroyed.
But his reprimand must have been for the servants, because he looked at them. “If you can’t manage her yourself, call the guards.”
This seemed to incite the two men—for pride or fear, I wasn’t sure. They roughly grabbed my wrists, locking them behind me so that I had no chance at resisting. Cyric resumed his march and they pushed after him.
We passed two halls of white marble. Akadian soldiers roamed inside or at the entrances of rooms, gaping wherever we passed. Cyric kept a steady pace, his head never turning back. Finally we entered a hall with only a single door at its end. One of the servants rushed ahead to open it before Cyric could get there. I grimaced with disgust. He walked inside and I was pushed through, stumbling after him.
The sight of the room diminished any worries I’d had that I would be trapped close to Cyric. The space was vast, high-ceilinged, and I saw neither a bed nor a dining table which led me to believe the rooms connected by archways belonged to him as well. The decorations were lavish, more so than I recalled them to be under the reign of the Katellians. I recognized fabrics of the eastern kingdoms. The golds of Selket, the deep greens and purples of Democedes.
Cyric untied his sheath, then dropped it with his sword on the closest table. “Go and get food,” he ordered. “Just enough for one.” One servant bowed and left the room. Cyric didn’t turn around or stop walking until he’d reached a table on the other side. He poured himself a drink from the bottle setting out on it, then turned, leaned back against the table, and looked directly at me.
It wasn’t another moment before the first servant arrived, carrying a tray. Cyric gestured to the table in the joining room, mid-drink. When he returned, Cyric waved a hand at the door. “Leave us.”
The first servant bowed. The one holding my wrists hesitated. Cyric raised a brow in question.
“Would you like me to have her chained somewhere, Lieutenant?” he asked.
Instead of responding, Cyric tipped his drink towards the door, expression cross.
The servant released me in a flash, allowing me to straighten from my hunched position. I glared back at the servant, but he was already headed through the door. He closed it behind him. The space was so full of carpets that even though it was large and marble there was little echo.
I swallowed, then turned around.
“If you keep thinking you’re going to escape,” Cyric said, “you’ll be wasting both my time and yours. From now on you’ll go where I tell you. Without force.”
I felt a scoff in my throat, but held it back. Without shifting my eyes from him, I took a step towards his sword.
He snorted.
“You think I won’t?” I said, knowing perfectly well he could read my intention. But I was closer to the sword. I could reach it before him even if he tried to stop me, and then… well, then I would do what I had to.
“It’s not that,” he said. “I was thinking I wouldn’t mind seeing if you’ve improved at all. Perhaps I’ll have to set down my drink to hold you off.”
I tightened my fists— but then I felt my body slumping. He still wore his chain-mail, and I knew only too well his strength and skill. No wonder he’d left the sword, even with it I wouldn’t be able to best him. Alright—he’d made his point.
“Tell me what Lox did with Rabaus,” I demanded.
Cyric raised his brows, but didn’t say anything.
“Well?”
Instead of answering, he moved away from the table. “I imagine you’re hungry. You should eat.” He gestured to the table, then walked to a desk between the rooms. He pulled a ring of keys out of his pocket and set it on the desk, then began sifting through papers.
Locking my jaw tight, I bypassed the sword, marched up to the table and turned the tray of food over unto the floor.
Cyric kept his back turned, but his shoulders went tight. He casually glanced at the spilled food, then turned back to his desk. “You’ll sleep in the bedroom tonight,” he said. “It’s across by the entrance. If you need something to wear, there are extra clothes in the trunk. Make sure you don’t spoil your dress—I don’t want to have to get you a new one before we leave.”
“I’m not leaving,” I said. “I’m not going back to Akadia! I’m not going anywhere with you!”
“Fine. You stay here. I’ll return to Akadia with this.” Without turning around, he held his hand out at his side, open. My stone sat on top of it.
I didn’t hesitate to lunge forward and try to grab it. Before I could he closed his fist and caught my arm with other hand, spinning me around to face him. We were so close I could feel the heat radiating off of him. “I’m not playing games, Ellia. You’ll obey me or I’ll find a way to make you.”
“Why won’t you let me go? You helped me before.”
“I was a fool before.”
“Do you really think that? Or are you just afraid of what Lox would do if you set me free?”
Cyric’s expression went livid. He raised his arm in the air, the back of his hand to me. I cringed away, squeezing my eyes tight and waiting for the blow. But it didn’t come. When I looked back at him, he was laughing. He threw his head back and it grew louder. I blinked in confusion; then I realized that he must been toying with me, pretending that he would strike. I wrenched my hand away from him.
“You honestly make it too easy, Ellia.”
“I want to speak with someone else.”
“No.”
“I want to speak with someone else. I demand to see Lox.”
“No.”
I beat my fists against his shoulder. He started to laugh again. I turned away from him and ran towards the door, but I didn’t get past the dining room before tripping over the tray of food. He laughed all the harder.
Against my best efforts, my eyes filled with tears. I felt a sob in my throat. I thought of Luffie, and I wanted her—I wanted her so badly that I almost wished I’d never sent her away with Baraduce and the other Warrior. What would they be thinking had become of me now? What would Lucian think? Or Estrid? Or Minstrel? And what would they do? Would they try to save me? No, for surely it would be too dangerous. We’d discussed rescue missions before; Akadia, Karatel, they were too well-guarded. It was something I’d never thought to worry about myself, not with my powers. I should have been more careful. I should have tried harder to escape before I’d reached Karatel, but I’d held back, reluctant to abandon Rabaus and the others. As a Warrior, how could I abandon them? I’d thought I would be able to retrieve my stone and help them escape. I should not have been so foolish. I’d been overconfident. I’d forgotten how weak Lox could make me.
I stilled my crying enough for my pride to allow me to stand. Cyric was no longer laughing or even looking at me; he faced his desk as if I wasn’t even there.
I dusted the front of my dress, then limped into the next room. I looked at the oak door and thought of the soldiers likely waiting on the other side of it. I walked to Cyric’s sword—then I saw a second weapon lying beside it. It was much smaller, just a knife. I touched it, and my throat constricted. I knew I couldn’t take this one without notice, but there would be more like it. In Akadia, there would be many more. I would find one. And then I would make myself use it.