When he’d found Ajax’s undisturbed bed, he’d known the boy would be working trouble somewhere, but Lucian could never have imagined this.
And the dragon. This mutilation was heresy, like crude words carved into the walls of the sacred temple. He imagined Tyche like this, and the pain was fierce.
Dog continued to wipe his face and wail for help, lost in a dark world.
Camilla tilted her head back and filled the air with remorseless laughter.
For the first time since burning Gaius Sabel’s sword, Lucian regretted his vow to live without violence.
“What did you do?” he bellowed. When one of the soldiers reached to restrain him, Lucian leapt away. Soldiers blocked him on every side.
“Give him a sword,” Camilla prompted. Petros made a discouraging noise, but one of the guards slid his own weapon across the ground to land at Lucian’s feet. Heart hammering, he tried to identify Rufus, but he did not see the captain’s helm. Perhaps the priests had been selective in whom they’d chosen for this assignment.
“Well, Lord Lucian?” Camilla purred. “Are you willing to forsake your vows?”
His palm practically itched for that sword’s hilt. Ajax’s and Dog’s mournful cries blended together in hideous harmony, and Lucian wanted nothing more than to make someone pay. These murderers, these cowards who had poisoned Erasmus. Lucian’s scarred hands fisted.
Protect Ajax. Defend Dog. Avenge Erasmus.
But…
If Lucian lifted that sword, he’d throw himself back into the dirtiest game ever played. If he attacked, those cowards would win.
Instead, he slumped to his knees.
“Come on! Fight!” Ajax screamed. But Lucian placed his hands upon the ground, bowed his head.
“Please. Take me instead. Whatever Ajax is guilty of, I’ve done worse a thousand times over.”
“How noble.” Camilla sighed. “How like Erasmus.” Lucian shut his eyes; her speaking the emperor’s name was like a lash across his soul. “Unfortunately, you possess many of the same characteristic defects. Guards.” Lucian did not look up as she gave the order. “Let’s see if he really is as principled as he pretends. Run him through.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “Let’s check his instincts.”
Stay. Do not move. It’s all over, anyway. Lucian waited for the three circling men to launch their attack. This death was far too good for him. It was the only injustice here.
The men screamed.
Lucian’s head jerked up as the soldiers exploded in clouds of red mist. Cursing, he wiped his eyes, spat the warm, coppery blood from his mouth. Three suits of armor, and three weapons, clanked to the ground. Steam rose from the remains.
Everyone—the priests, Lucian, Ajax, the soldiers—screamed as the ground rocked beneath them. Deep, wicked cracks stretched across the courtyard. Lucian’s breath stuttered.
Emilia. No.
The ground stopped shaking, and he whipped around to see Emilia standing in front of the palace door, her hands held out before her in an almost protective gesture. Her eyes were dark in the pale orb of her face.
She collapsed to her knees and began rubbing her arms. Her teeth chattered. He could hear it from where he knelt, and he could hear her wretched sobs as well. Somehow, Lucian could sense the power smoldering inside of her. She’d used too much, for his sake.
“Stop!” she wept.
Lucian had not anticipated that kind of power. He had not truly known her.
As Emilia froze in mid-sob, trapped in stasis by the priests, Lucian rose.
“Let her go!” he yelled.
“I’ve had enough of your hand-wringing, Lord Lucian,” Petros snarled. “Either stop us or be silent.”
Lucian ran to Emilia and knelt by her side. She was a living statue, only the steady rise and fall of her chest proof she was still alive.
She had given everything for him. Didn’t she know? Didn’t she realize he was the most worthless creature alive? No, no, he hadn’t known her, and she hadn’t known him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered as the guards bound his hands behind his back and dragged him into the palace. Ajax followed, with two guards escorting him.
Dog continued wailing as they shut the palace doors, leaving the injured dragon alone in the dark.