Elix: Sci-Fi Romance (The Gladius Syndicate Book 2) by Emma James (18)

“Sir, the lady has spoken against you,” the bard said loudly. “Let her go.”

Junius sneered at the bard. “You have no authority over me,” he said proudly. “Selene, come.”

Selene kicked and twisted in protest, but her sinewy lean strength was no match for Junius’s massive power. She felt helpless as he dragged her away from the warm glow of the campfire.

“What do you think you’re doing,” Selene grunted, desperately trying to pull her arm free. “You’re acting like a real cad!”

Junius tightened his grip on Selene’s arm and pulled her close. Selene winced as pain shot through her body. Junius pressed his forehead against Selene’s and twisted his lips in a cruel smirk.

“You little wench,” Junius growled. “Just because you rejected me once doesn’t mean you can keep me away forever.”

“Let me go!” Selene shrieked. “I’ll kill you!”

Junius laughed harshly. “You wouldn’t dare,” he said, shaking his head. “You can’t do anything to me, Selene,” he added, puffing out his chest in pride. “I am a warrior. And you? You’re a weak little girl, too stupid to know what’s good for her.”

Anger and desperation welled inside of Selene and she shrieked again, flailing and kicking. But she knew it was futile. With every thrust and punch she threw, Junius only tightened his grip. As he dragged her back towards the royal compound, she began to scream.

“Help me!” Selene screamed until her throat felt raw and red. “Rape! Someone, help me!”

“Shut up,” Junius growled. “I’m going to give you a thrashing you won’t ever forget!”

Selene narrowed her icy blue eyes and stared at Junius. Hate radiated from her gaze and she bared her teeth before spitting in Junius’s face.

“You bitch!” Junius howled. “You’re going to regret that!”

“Help me!” Selene shrieked. “Someone, help! This man is attacking me!”

“Cry all you want, but no one is going to save you,” Junius said smugly. “No one would dare lay a hand on me!”

Selene whimpered in pain and frustration as Junius pushed her down on the grass and began tearing at her cloak. She howled in pain as Junius slapped her across the face, his calloused palm scratching the soft skin of her cheek.

“Shut up,” Junius repeated. His dark eyes blazed with angry fire. “In the name of the gods, Selene, shut up!”

“Rape!” Selene shrieked. “Someone, help me!”

Just as Junius was fumbling with the leather thongs at his waist, a large figure came barreling out of the darkness. Junius barely had time to yelp in surprise before the figure threw itself on top of him, grunting and growling and groaning under his breath.

“You do not touch her,” the strange man growled. Selene watched in horror and anticipation as the stranger balled his right hand into a fist and punched Junius square in the jaw, again and again, until blood was spraying through the air.

Junius’s eyes rolled back in his head and he fell to the damp grass, limp and bleeding. Selene could only lie there and watch as her attacker was transformed into a bleeding little boy, someone no more dangerous than an elderly woman.

“Lady, are you hurt?”

Selene shook her head and swallowed quickly. Her heart was still thumping as she sat up and arranged her cloak, pushing the fur-lined hood off her head.

“I could have done that myself, you know,” Selene said arrogantly. She got to her feet and wiped her palms on her cloak, still shaking in panic. “You didn’t have to intervene.”

The clouds in the sky shifted and the moon appeared, bright as a beacon in the sky. Selene studied the man carefully – she was sure she had seen him somewhere before. He was tall and muscular, easily the largest man Selene had ever seen in her life. His dark eyes looked almost black in the night air and his hair was cropped so close to his head that he was practically bald.

“With all due respect, lady,” the man said, bowing low. “I doubt that.”

Selene glared. She had the oddest feeling that the man was making fun of her, despite the sincerity in his voice.

“Junius is a pig, he would not have actually hurt me,” Selene said arrogantly. She pulled her cloak close around her thin shoulders and stood up straight. Even with her best posture, she barely came up to the man’s chin. Stepping closer, she saw that he was covered with tattoos and scars, with a large stud in one ear.

“You’re a warrior,” Selene said. She swallowed hard. “I’ve seen you before, fighting in the arena.”

The man nodded. “I am Phaelenx,” he replied. “Phaelenx Cobbler.”

Selene was suddenly tempted to ask Phaelenx what he had been doing awake, at this hour. But when she saw the disdainful way he was looking at her, she narrowed her eyes and reached into her cloak.

“Here,” Selene said, passing Phaelenx a handful of gold coins. “For your services.”

Phaelenx threw his head back and laughed. “Lady, I don’t need your money.”

“Take it,” Selene growled. “And speak of this to no one.”

Phaelenx shook his head, still chuckling. “You royals,” he said disdainfully. “Always want someone else doing your dirty work, don’t you?”

“You shut your mouth,” Selene growled. “I must be going.”

And with a mad twirl into the air, she was gone.

CHAPTER TWO

Phaelenx

Phaelenx Cobbler stood in the chill night air for a long time, watching the slim figure make her way back to the royal compound. He knew that he had seen her somewhere before – perhaps in the arena, before one of his fights. Either way, Phaelenx could tell from her speech, her attitude, and the costly ermine lining her cloak that she was very well-heeled.

I’ll probably get a summons tomorrow, for harassing the wife of some idiot royal, Phaelenx thought, rolling his eyes. Just because some men can’t keep their women at home doesn’t mean I have to look out for them. Just as he was about to turn and head towards his home, he remembered the gold coins Selene had thrown on the ground. Phaelenx hated the idea of taking money from anyone, especially a royal, but he knew his father would be pleased with the loot. Phaelenx grunted as he stooped to the ground and picked up the golden coins, slipping them into the pockets of his breeches.

Maybe this will get us another week’s worth of meat, Phaelenx thought as he began walking home in big strides that were oddly graceful. The gods know we could use it.

Phaelenx didn’t usually make a habit of wandering about Zheka in the darkness, but it was an exceptional evening. He had a skirmish with some other Zhekan men in the morning, and sometimes night walks relaxed him. Phaelenx enjoyed meandering down to the harbor and watching as the traveling men and bards spoke of foreign lands. While Phaelenx was content with his lot in life – fighting in service of Queen Zornaya – he sometimes wondered about what life outside of Zheka would be like.

Like many other native Zhekans, Phaelenx had never been outside of the country. He had traveled to the border, once, with his father as a small child. Phaelenx had never forgotten the sense of wonder and amazement that had flooded his senses upon seeing the Glasulian border – a very different country from Zheka.

Phaelenx crossed the sloping lawn and looked over his shoulder at the castle. The sky was just beginning to turn pink and orange with the first light of dawn as he made his way into the village and into the modest yet comfortable home he shared with his father, Darius.

“Sir! You’ve been out all night again,” Brenna said, putting her hands on her hips. “You know your father won’t like this at all!”

Phaelenx resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the cook. “I’m fine,” he said, suppressing a huge yawn. “I just went for a walk. I couldn’t sleep.”

Brenna’s sharp eyes darted down to Phaelenx’s pockets. “Aye,” she said, raising an eyebrow on her wrinkled face. “And you just happened to come home with money, did you?”

Phaelenx shrugged and grinned. “A lady was in trouble,” he said, narrowing his eyes as the memory of the beautiful young woman popped into his head. “I saved her. She thanked me – with this.”

“Well, let me see,” Brenna groused. “We’ve been needing some coin, anyway.”

Phaelenx pulled a few of the coins from his pocket and handed them over. When Brenna saw the royal insignia, she gasped.

“Sir! These are from a royal person!”

“Yes,” Phaelenx said, gritting his teeth. “She was quite haughty. I’m sure she thinks very highly of herself. You know, she didn’t even thank me for my assistance.”

“Phaelenx!” Brenna said sternly. “You cannot behave so arrogantly around the royal family.” She narrowed her eyes. “And just who was this lady, anyway?”

Phaelenx shrugged. “She didn’t give me her name,” he said. “But I’m sure she’s back home with her husband, safe and sound.”

“What did she look like?” Brenna suddenly looked nervous. “And does she know who you are? Does she know how you find you?”

Phaelenx shrugged again. He found himself becoming tired from the short interaction with the cook.

“I do not know,” Phaelenx said. “She said she recognized me – perhaps from the arena.”

Brenna sighed. “Tell me of her looks,” she said. “You may be in deep trouble, Phaelenx. What if you offended another royal? A man, who could challenge you to death?”

Phaelenx snorted. “Like they would have any chance at winning,” he said. “You know I am the strongest man in the realm.”

“Still, you must be careful!”

“She had long, dark hair, tied at the back of her neck,” Phaelenx said. “Tanned skin – like she spends a lot of time outdoors. And her eyes…” He trailed off, trying to remember. “They were icy,” he said. “Blue.”

Brenna was looking at Phaelenx in shock. “Sir, that’s lady Selene Covendane, cousin to the High Commander!”

Phaelenx frowned. “And?”

Brenna shook her head in exasperation. “Sir, she is unmarried! What if you are charged with assault? Or worse – rape?”

Phaelenx rolled his eyes. “I was saving her from another man, someone who was trying to tear at her cloak. She was screaming for help. I doubt that I’d be in trouble with anyone.”

Brenna clucked her tongue. “Sir, you know it doesn’t work that way with the royal family. They do what they want, when they want, however they want to do it. You know that!”

Phaelenx yawned. He pulled the rest of the gold out of his pockets and set it down on the table. “Here,” he said. “Take this, I don’t care. I am going to sleep.”

Brenna put her hands on her hips. “Your father isn’t going to be pleased with you,” she said. “Not one bit!”

Brenna’s shrill cries lingered in Phaelenx’s ears as he climbed the ladder to the loft, where he slept. Suddenly, he felt more tired than ever. Stripping out of his tunic and breeches, he lay down on the straw mattress and pulled a thick coverlet over his muscular body. Whenever he closed his eyes, annoyingly enough, he saw Selene there, proud and haughty and beautiful.

Phaelenx thought about Brenna’s warning. It was true that his father, Darius, likely wouldn’t be thrilled about his escapades in the night. But Brenna had always been like that – as fussy and cautious as a mother hen. She’d come to live with Darius and Phaelenx shortly after Phaelenx’s mother, Tryphaena, had died of a mysterious illness. Phaelenx had taken to Brenna almost instantly – the way she cared for him and his father endeared her to them both.

Phaelenx yawned and rolled over, nestling his head against the pillows. It was only a short matter of time before he fell asleep.

By the time Phaelenx awoke, the sun was shining high in the sky. Beams of yellow light filtered through the roof. Phaelenx sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes, yawning loudly as he stretched. He felt as if he’d gotten no sleep at all, but he knew that he needed to get up. There would be a skirmish today, and Phaelenx was expected down at the arena with the other warriors.

Phaelenx washed his face and hands in a bowl by his bed, then dressed in his tunic and leggings from the day before. He climbed down the ladder and strolled into the kitchen, where his father, Darius, was sitting at a wooden table with a bowl of porridge in front of him.

Darius raised an eyebrow at his son. “Brenna told me you had quite the adventure last night,” he said, fixing Phaelenx with a stern gaze.

Phaelenx nodded. “I’m not sure I would call it an adventure,” he said slowly. “I assisted someone in danger.”

“A lady. A royal cousin, Brenna tells me,” Darius replied. “Phaelenx, you must be careful.”

Phaelenx resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes,” he said. “Father, I am well aware.”

Darius sighed. “I do not mean to scold you,” he said. “But son, this is quite important. You must stay away from the royal family.”

Phaelenx nodded. “Yes, Father,” he said. “I know. This girl – Selene – she was in trouble. She was being attacked.”

“No doubt by another member of the royal family,” Darius countered. “And that man could have you killed!”

“I couldn’t just leave her,” Phaelenx said. “And she paid me, did Brenna tell you that?”

Darius nodded. “That, at least, was welcome news.”

Phaelenx sat down at the table. He and his father fell into an uneasy silence, only interrupted by the patter of Brenna’s feet against the stone floor.

“Ah, I trust you slept well!” Brenna chirped. She placed a steaming bowl of stew in front of Phaelenx. It was loaded with chunks of meat, carrots, and potatoes, and it smelled heavenly.

“Thank you,” Phaelenx said. He frowned, dipping his spoon into the thick brown liquid. There was much more meat than usual.

Brenna smiled proudly. “I am sure you will do very well today,” she said.

Phaelenx nodded. He had long ago become used to the nervous jitters he felt before competing with the other warriors. Now, he barely even noticed them. Dipping his head close to the bowl, Phaelenx quickly ate the stew, drinking the rich broth when he was finished. He handed the bowl back to Brenna, who dipped into a slight curtsey before carrying the bowl outside to be washed.

“I know you are disappointed with me,” Phaelenx said to Darius. “But trust me – I am sure the girl will say nothing. She was very unhappy, and I am quite positive she will be far too embarrassed to bring the matter to attention.”

“It is not her that I am worried for,” Darius said. “It is the other young man.” He shook his head. “Son, you know Selene is famed for her impetuous nature. She has rejected three suitors – all powerful royal cousins, the type of men who would love nothing more than to attack you.”

Phaelenx shrugged. “I can take them,” he said. “There is not a man in Zheka who could beat me.”

Darius looked dismayed. “A little humility would serve you well,” he said slowly. “Now, please – excuse me. I must begin my work for the day.”

Phaelenx frowned. His father yawned and stood up from the table, rubbing his gnarled hands. He worked as a cobbler – a successful one, but that didn’t exactly mean a life of prosperity. Phaelenx hated the sight of his father’s ruined hands, twisted and bent from years of sewing and repairing shoes for the wealthy. Phaelenx brought in a decent wage as one of the kingdom’s most powerful warriors, but he longed for the day when Darius would finally announce his retirement.

It can’t be long now, Phaelenx thought as he watched his father settle into a chair and pick up a lady’s brocade slipper. He seems to be worse off with each new day.

Phaelenx could hear the clock in the castle square chiming the hour. He got to his feet and tucked a morsel of bread and salted meat into the leather pouch he wore at his waist. There was no point in bringing a flagon of water to the arena – wenches and children sold drinks outside, and Phaelenx and the other warriors always took a few moments to rest in between fights.

The day was beautiful. As Phaelenx walked the short distance across town, he noticed children scampering about and playing in the grass and dust. The sky was blue and cloudless, and the warm rays of the sun made Phaelenx feel almost sleepy after his heavy meal of stew.

The arena was a familiar sight – a huge coliseum made of stone and marble. Phaelenx walked around to the side entrance, then into the large arena and began to stretch. Other warriors stretched and lunged, sometimes pausing to burst into laughter as they talked. The warriors of Zheka were an odd group – close knit and friendly, yet willing to slaughter each other limb from limb at the first order. Cages with beasts – tigers and lions and bears – were set strategically around the arena. The sight of the Tigers, their mouths dripping with saliva, was the only thing that made Phaelenx nervous.

“Greetings,” a man called. Phaelenx looked up to see Brutus, another warrior. Like Phaelenx, Brutus was a large man. He was tall, muscular, and covered in tattoos, scars, and dried blood.

“Hello, brother,” Phaelenx replied. He shielded his eyes from the sun and relaxed his muscles before dropping into a low stretch.

“What news?”

“Nothing,” Phaelenx said. He yawned. “Just another day.” Phaelenx wasn’t about to tell Brutus – or anyone else – of his adventures the night before. He knew the other men would mock him relentlessly for saving a spoiled royal woman. The warriors, although they respected Zhekan royalty, were not necessarily inclined to show devotion to the royal family who held their lives in such little regard. Phaelenx was well aware that the warriors were scapegoats – since Zheka was a peaceful country, the violence in the arena was prime entertainment, especially for the royal family.

“You seem tired,” Brutus said. He gave Phaelenx a mischievous grin. “Feel like a skirmish?”

Phaelenx chuckled. “My muscles are still cold,” he said, dropping low into a squat. He raised his arms high above his head and balled his hands into fists until the familiar ache and tension went shooting into his shoulders and the muscles of his back.

Brutus grinned and chuckled. “Such has never stopped you before,” he said. “Come, Phaelenx.” He brandished a shining gladius, passing the sword to Phaelenx.

Phaelenx grinned. “Challenge accepted,” he said, swinging the short lethal blade through the air with practiced ease. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and summoning the will of the gods into his body. Before every fight, Phaelenx always found himself calm and relaxed. Fighting was the one thing Phaelenx was naturally good at – even when he had been a boy, he’d been capable of defeating some of Zheka’s most decorated fighters.

Brutus held a brass gladius in his hands, squatting low on his haunches and spreading his feet wide. The two warriors faced each other, moving in slow, calculated circles. When Phaelenx had his back to the sun, he swung his gladius through the air.

Clang!

The metal swords clashed together in an ear-piercing sound that drew applause from the surrounding men. Phaelenx didn’t take his eyes away from Brutus as he darted and danced on both feet like a nimble gymnast. Brutus swung his sword towards Phaelenx and Phaelenx leaped back with agility and ease. Brutus made a face, spitting on the ground.

“Curse you! Even when tired, you’re a beast!”

Phaelenx suppressed a grin. He pressed his lips together and squinted against the sun as Brutus launches towards him. Brutus’s gladius sliced through the air, coming dangerously close to Phaelenx’s ear with a cool whish of air. Phaelenx retaliated, moving backward and holding his gladius firmly in front of him, jabbing at the air before Brutus’s chest.

“Arugh!” Brutus cried out in pain as Phaelenx pierced his flesh, dragging the blade of the gladius down his chest until a line of crimson appeared. Blood spattered the dirt under their feet as the two men moved together, intimately as lovers. Brutus jabbed wildly into the air and Phaelenx leaned back, letting the blade slice by his throat with only mere centimeters to spare.

Brutus staggered forward and Phaelenx grabbed his wrist, twisting it painfully behind his back. Brutus cried out again and Phaelenx pulled him close before shoving him powerfully to the ground. Brutus collapsed on his back, his eyes pleading with Phaelenx.

Phaelenx growled, putting a powerful foot on Brutus’s chest. He leaned down and pushed the blade of his gladius against Brutus’s throat until a faint drop of blood appeared.

“Well?” Phaelenx raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Have I bested you?”

Brutus growled. “We will decide that another day,” he said, his mouth twisted in obvious discomfort.

Phaelenx chuckled and took his foot away. A moment later, he leaned down, extending his hand to Brutus. Brutus accepted and Phaelenx pulled him to his feet.

“Really, you should have just killed me,” Brutus said, smirking. “My debts aren’t exactly getting smaller by the day.”

Phaelenx threw his head back and hooted with laughter. “And then I would be responsible for them, brother,” he replied. “I think I’ll keep you around for longer.”

Brutus frowned.

“What?”

“I am not sure,” Brutus said. He shielded his eyes from the sun. “Does it not seem strange to you that no one else is fighting?”

Phaelenx cocked his head to the side and frowned. “It is strange,” he said slowly.

In the time Phaelenx and Brutus had skirmished, the arena had emptied. It took Phaelenx a moment to notice the warriors had gathered by the main entrance to the coliseum – the entrance that they, as fighters, were not even allowed to use.

“What are they doing,” Brutus muttered under his breath. He was breathing hard and his chest was covered in blood. “Normally our performances garner a bit of cheer.”

“Come, brother,” Phaelenx said, not taking his eyes away from the clustered group of men. “There must be news.”

The two men jogged across the arena, joining the clump of warriors gathered in the shade. One of the men grunted at Phaelenx and tossed him an orange. Phaelenx peeled the flesh from the fruit and sucked it greedily before dropping the dried slices onto the dusty ground.

“What is happening,” Phaelenx hissed to another warrior, Thracian.

“News from afar,” Thracian replied in a low whisper. “News of Nasenia.”

Phaelenx frowned. “Nasenia?”

“Quiet, please!” A man called loudly. Phaelenx had no trouble stretching up to his full height and looking over the heads of the other warriors. “There is news!”

Yes, obviously, Phaelenx thought in irritation. These lazy men would look for any excuse to divert from training! No wonder I’m the strongest one of them all.

“Tell us, stranger,” Phaelenx called. “Tell us what is happening.”

“As many of you know, I am a traveling bard,” the man said loudly. He cleared his throat. Phaelenx couldn’t help but chuckle – compared to the bulky Zhekan warriors, this man was tiny. He was sinewy and lean, almost catlike. And he was at least a full head shorter than the smallest Zhekan warrior.

“Tell us!” Brutus yelled. He made his hand into a fist and pumped the air, prompting a fresh gush of blood from the wound to his chest.

“There is a sickness, a plague,” the bard said nervously, clearing his throat. “In the land of Nasenia!”

“Nasenia,” Phaelenx said dismissively. “They are to the south, by quite a distance. Why should we care about their plight?”

The bard eyed Phaelenx, staring at him with such coldness that even Phaelenx was taken aback.

“Sir, you should take care to watch your tongue,” the bard said coldly. “Nasenia is in the grip of a terrible illness – an illness that is wiping out the entire population, hundreds of men, women, and children – all dead at one time!”

Phaelenx rolled his eyes dismissively. “That same rumor was spread last year, and the year before that,” he said loudly. “How can you expect us to be fearful of something that isn’t even true?”

The bard looked offended. “Hold your tongue, sir,” he said. “I am merely a messenger.”

“I’d bet anything you haven’t even been to Nasenia,” Phaelenx grumbled under his breath. “I bet you have no idea what you are speaking of.”

“Phaelenx, perhaps this rumor holds water,” Brutus said slowly. “Perhaps you should not be so quick to judge.”

“And perhaps we should all get back to what we are here to do,” Phaelenx said loudly. He felt angry, for a reason he couldn’t quite explain. “And perhaps, we should stop gossiping like women!”

The other warriors turned to Phaelenx and narrowed their eyes. “You are not in a position to order us around,” Thracian replied coldly. “Perhaps you should leave if you are so displeased!”

Phaelenx rolled his eyes. “I will,” he said. “And when you are all ready to resume practice, please let me know.”

The other warriors were silent as Phaelenx brushed past them and began the arduous walk home. He knew there would be gossip, and talk about him. But Phaelenx didn’t care – he was a warrior, not some man paid to stand around talking to foreign bards who were likely lying.

It seemed like the whole kingdom was losing its mind.

CHAPTER THREE

Selene

“Selene, aren’t you going to eat anything?” Arsinoe wheedled. “You have been staring off this entire meal!”

Selene flushed. “I am sorry,” she said, bowing her head. “But I do not feel hungry this morning.”

After her encounter with the hunky warrior, Selene had barely slept. She realized – all too late – that she should have thanked him, instead of acting so haughty. She was both embarrassed and curious, even though she knew she would never see the stranger again.

Arsinoe rolled her eyes. “I, too, was always idle in my youth,” she said, in a voice almost too low for Selene to hear. “Perhaps, daughter, you should spend the day in your chamber, working on your needlework.”

Selene groaned. “Mother, that would be a punishment,” she said. She stared out the open window behind Arsinoe’s head. The skies were a beautiful blue, free of clouds, and the grass shimmered like an emerald carpet.

“Perhaps you are in need of a little punishment,” Arsinoe replied archly. “Perhaps you should spend the day thinking of your future husband.”

Selene cocked her head to the side and gave her mother an impetuous look. “Please, do not say you have arranged another marriage behind my back,” she said. “You know what I will do. I will reject him, as I would with any man I did not love.”

Arsinoe sighed. “Selene, you must get over your romantic notions of marriage,” she said. “I have told you many times before – marriage comes after love, not before!”

“Maybe for you,” Selene said in a surly voice. “But not for me. That is not the life I choose.”

Arsinoe sighed. “No, I have not arranged anything,” she said. There was a dangerous edge to her voice – an edge that Selene had noticed more and more frequently as of late. “But Selene, I beg you to reconsider Junius. He is a good, strong man, from a good family. I think he would make you very happy indeed.”

Selene’s cheeks flamed at the memory of Junius tearing savagely at her robes.

“He is not a good man,” she said icily. “And you can trust me on that.”

“How do you know?” Arsinoe asked, her words laced with irritation. “You haven’t even given yourself the chance to become acquainted with him?”

Selene sighed. She certainly wasn’t going to tell her mother about her adventure or allude to her rescuer.

“I just know,” Selene said flatly. “And I will not marry him. I would rather die single.”

Arsinoe clucked her tongue and shook her head sadly. “Sometimes I worry that I did not raise you well at all,” she said. “Your brother turned out so well, too!”

Selene snorted. “Baelan? Turned out well? He is a spoiled pig!”

“Take care to speak better of your brother, Selene,” Arsinoe said calmly. “One day, the two of you will be the only ones left in our family if you continue being so selfish. What am I to do if you never have children?”

Selene narrowed her eyes in anger. “And why is that my responsibility? What of Baelan? He is closer to the marrying age?”

“Baelan will not disappoint me,” Arsinoe said. “And now, daughter, up to your chamber. Your needlework is quite wanting. I know, I looked in this morning while you were bathing.”

Selene’s cheeks blazed hot with anger as she pushed her chair away from the table and got to her feet, stalking out of the kitchen. I have no privacy, she thought as she made her way up the grand staircase of her family’s residence inside the royal compound. And I have no allies, save Aya.

As she walked through the main hall, Selene sighed with unhappiness. Royal children played around her, giggling and cooing as their nurses watched over them carefully. A royal young couple strode by, the woman’s belly big with child. Selene was reluctant to barricade herself inside of her chamber for the whole day, but she was sick of seeing everyone around her so happy. They have never known what it feels to be alone, she thought, watching as the couple kissed and snuggled, oblivious of the fact they were in public.

Selene shook her head and thought. A moment later, she frowned and turned on her heel, walked to the end of the hall and knocking on Aya’s door.

Aya answered after a few moments. When she saw Selene, she smiled happily and threw her arms around her friend.

“Can you get away today?” Selene asked. “I’ve been told to spend the whole day in my chamber, and the gods know, I don’t wish to be alone.”

Aya nodded. “Give me a moment,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I was supposed to practice spell craft with my mother, but she’s...not feeling well today,” she said.

Selene giggled. Aya’s mother was notorious around the kingdom for having a drinking problem that often led to her spending whole days in bed.

“Okay,” Selene said. “Be quick. I’ll be right here.”

Aya nodded, then closed the door. Selene only had to wait for a few moments as snatches of blurred conversation made their way into the hall. When Aya opened the door again, she looked triumphant.

“Mother says I may be out today,” Aya said. “She just wants me to pick up some thread at the market before returning home.”

“Oh, you can have some of mine,” Selene said. She yawned. “Mother is trying to make me into a spindle. She’s convinced I need to have a talent in order to attract men.”

Aya giggled. “Your mother is ridiculous,” she said. “Is she trying to push another man on you?”

Selene wrinkled her nose. “Worse,” she said. “I’ll tell you about it as soon as we arrive at my chamber.”

The two young women walked quickly up the spiral staircase that led to Selene’s small apartment at the top of a turret. Selene had been given the rooms on her seventeenth birthday when she had come of age. Her mother had made no secret of the hope that Selene would quickly marry. But that had been over six years ago, and Selene had no intention of taking a husband.

“She’s pushing Junius on me,” Selene moaned, once she and Aya were alone. “And I will never wed him.”

Aya frowned. “He isn’t too awful,” she said, licking her pale lips. “At least he is educated and doesn’t speak with a lisp.”

Selene giggled. “He is awful,” she said, raising her eyebrow while she told Aya of what had happened the previous night.

“Selene!” Aya looked dismayed. “He tried to force himself on you! Why haven’t you told anyone?”

Selene wrinkled her nose. “Because no one would believe me, or they would say it was my fault,” she said idly, shrugging. “They will say I tempted him and led him astray, or that I wore a revealing cloak.” She rolled her eyes. “I was, in fact, clad from the neck down. He couldn’t even see my wrists.”

Aya bit her lip and frowned. “What an awful man,” she said. “And who came to your rescue?”

Selene flushed hotly. “Who said anyone came to my rescue?” She puffed out her narrow chest, trying to summon the cool will of the warrior who had saved her life. “I was able to fight him off by myself.”

Aya shook her head, giving Selene a kindly sympathetic look. “Selene, I know you are strong. But Junius is a large man. Someone must have heard.”

Selene looked prim.

“They did hear,” Aya said, smirking. “So, tell me, who was it?”

Selene sighed. “I do not know,” she said. “Some warrior, a big one. I have seen him before at the fights.”

“Well, did he not think to give you his name?”

Selene wrinkled her nose. “His name is Phaelenx. Phaelenx Cobbler.”

“Oh! His father makes my shoes,” Aya said, sticking her small feet out from under the hem of her gown. Sure enough, her feet were clad in dainty silk slippers with lemur trim. “He does good work.”

Selene shrugged. “He wasn’t very kind about it,” she said, conveniently leaving out the part of the story where she had been rude to Phaelenx. “But I gave him some coins anyway.” She tossed her long hair over one shoulder.

“Selene!” Aya gasped. “You shouldn’t be so cavalier about this, what if he tells someone?”

“He won’t,” Selene said smugly. “I know he won’t.”

“You can’t keep doing this,” Aya said.

“What?” Selene narrowed her eyes. “You never had a problem with my sneaking out before!”

“It isn’t that,” Aya said kindly. “But Selene, what if Phaelenx had not been there? What if Junius had really hurt you? Or what if Phaelenx tells his father, and his father comes to the royal family and demands more compensation?”

Selene frowned. “Are you worried I will embarrass my family?”

“No,” Aya said quickly. “I am worried you will get hurt, and that your mother will be so angry that she refuses to listen to you.”

“Aya, I have made my parents angry so many times in the past, I do not think it matters what I do in the future,” Selene said. She yawned, feeling suddenly exhausted.

“I am not trying to disagree with you,” Aya said kindly. “I just worry about you, that is all.”

Selene sighed. “I know,” she said. “I know you mean well. I…I just feel so tired of being alone in the world.” To her immense surprise, tears welled up in her eyes and she blinked them away.”

“Oh, Selene, do not cry,” Aya said. She put her arm around Selene’s shoulders and pulled her close. “I am sorry.”

“It was not what you said,” Selene said. She sighed again. “I am just tired of feeling sorry for myself. That is all.”

“I promise, things will work out,” Aya said. She took Selene’s hand in her own and squeezed reassuringly.

“And then what? I meet a man that my family approves of, and we wed, and we live here for the rest of my life, under the thumb of my mother?”

Aya shrugged. “It would be better than other fates,” she said.

Selene sighed. She flopped down on her bed, closing her eyes as her head hit the silken pillows. “I know,” she said. “And I know how this must sound to you as though I’m behaving like a spoiled child. But I just feel so unhappy. The only time I feel free is when I am outside of the castle, at night, in the darkness. And if I cannot have that small bit of happiness…”

“Perhaps you could look into some fighting skills,” Aya said doubtfully. “Perhaps Phaelenx would teach you. He’s one of the strongest warriors in Zheka,” she added. “Did you know my little brother has a figurine of Phaelenx by the side of his bed?”

Selene burst out laughing. “Surely, you must be kidding,” she said. “He doesn’t!”

“He does,” Aya said smugly. She grinned at her friend. “Besides, I am sure Phaelenx would love the chance to train a beautiful royal lady as yourself.”

Selene groaned. “I think I ruined any chance of that happening when we met,” she said. “I insulted him.”

Aya shrugged. “Men have short memories,” she said. “You never know.”

Selene smiled and shrugged. “Perhaps you are right,” she said. “I have been surprised more than once.”

Selene and Aya spent the day gossiping and fussing with Selene’s new clothes – Arsinoe had ordered a whole wardrobe of new gowns for the pending social season – and by the time the sun was sinking low in the sky, Selene was feeling more cheerful than she had in days.

The dinner gong sounded just as Selene was walking Aya back to her family’s small apartment. As a minor royal cousin, Aya enjoyed many of the same privileges as Selene, but Selene knew her family was secretly struggling with money. Aya’s mother’s drinking problem had led to a variety of other problems, and Selene knew her friend was quite sensitive about them all.

“Why don’t you join my family for dinner,” Selene suggested. “We always have more than we can eat, and this gives me an excuse to ignore my mother.”

Aya gave her friend a stern look. “Selene, I supped with your family thrice last week! My parents can afford food, you know.”

“I know,” Selene said, internally cursing her own lack of diplomacy. “But I enjoy your company.”

“Well, all right,” Aya said. She shrugged. “Your cook is much more skilled than ours, anyway. You almost always have lamb.”

“I think tonight we are having venison,” Selene said, wrinkling her nose. “I have no appetite.”

Aya linked her arm through her friend’s as Selene guided the pair towards her family’s dining room. But as they walked through the open doorway, Selene gasped. The table was set with lavish gold and silver bowls and flatware, and instead of the venison Selene expected to see, there was a large suckling pig on the table with an apple in its mouth.

“Wow,” Aya whispered in Selene’s ear. “What is going on?”

“I do not know,” Selene said.

Just then, Arsinoe appeared. “Selene! Why, you are not dressed,” she said, glancing at Selene’s casual gown. “And you have brought a guest?”

“Yes,” Selene said calmly, looking into her mother’s eyes. “Aya is a guest of ours frequently, I did not think it would be a problem.”

“I should go,” Aya said quickly.

“No,” Arsinoe said. “You are welcome to stay.” She flashed Aya a tense smile. “But girls, please go to Selene’s chamber and put on appropriate clothing.” She leaned in close to Selene. “Wear something new,” she hissed. “We have a very important guest tonight!”

Selene’s heart sank. As soon as her mother closed the doors to the dining room, Selene turned to Aya and groaned.

“I bet there is some man there,” Selene said, wrinkling her nose. “And she is planning to pawn me off on him, like some sort of chattel.”

“You do not know for sure,” Aya said cautiously. “Come, we should change our gowns.”

Selene and Aya barely talked as they changed from casual day-gowns into two of Selene’s new, formal dresses. Selene wore a gown of golden brocade with a small train, lined with ermine.

“You look like a queen,” Aya said, glancing at her friend with obvious approval. “Whoever it is, he’s going to fall in love with you the first moment he sees you!”

Selene narrowed her eyes. “Until I open my mouth,” she said archly. “Then I am sure I will run screaming for the hills.”

For a moment, Aya looked stern. Then she burst into laughter. “Oh, Selene,” she said. “Never change.”

Selene flushed. “I’ll try my best,” she said dryly. “Come, we will be late if we do not hurry.”

Selene and Aya skittered down the staircase and into the dining room just as Arsinoe, Baelan, and Selene’s father Ashton were lowering themselves down into the heavy wooden chairs.

“Ah, Aya, how nice to see you,” Ashton said. “Did Selene tell you, we have a very important guest this evening?”

“Mother told us both,” Selene said. She bit her lip. “Who has come?”

Just as Ashton was about to answer, a harp began to play in the corner. Frowning, Selene turned around to the doorway. To her surprise, there was no man there at all. Instead, a beautiful woman with long red hair, bright green eyes, and pale skin stood with a haughty expression on her narrow face. She kept her chin tilted high in the air as she walked calmly into the room.

She almost looks as if she is floating above the ground, Selene thought, narrowing her eyes at the beautiful woman. Who is she?

“May I introduce Taryn,” Arsinoe said proudly. “Taryn is a guest of Zheka. The queen herself asked us to entertain her this evening.”

Selene blinked. Aya caught her eye as if to say, ‘well, at least it isn’t a suitor!’ and Selene knew she should agree, but there was an uneasy feeling building inside of her stomach that she couldn’t quite shake. Taryn smiled calmly, but knowingly – as if she had come with some sort of secret knowledge that would rip Selene’s family apart at the seams.

“Welcome, Lady Taryn,” Selene said, dipping her head in a small bow.

Taryn smiled, looking smug as ever. “Why thank you,” she said. “And you are the Lady Serena? Your mother has spoken of you to me.”

“Lady Selene,” Selene corrected.

The gleam in Taryn’s green eyes showed Selene that the mistake hadn’t been an accident. Selene had to bite the inside of her cheeks to keep from glaring.

“Well, Lady Selene, I thank you and your family for this kindness,” Taryn said. Her voice was soft and sweet, almost as musical as the harp itself. “I will repay your mother and father most kindly.”

“There is no need,” Ashton said firmly.

Selene looked at her father in surprise. Ashton was a low-ranking commander, a failed warrior. He was mostly given to bouts of laziness and drink, much like Aya’s mother, and Selene had never respected him as a man. But tonight, he looked handsome and well-oiled, like a prince. His face was free of dirt and his dark hair was oiled and gleaming.

“Thank you, kind sir,” Taryn said sweetly. “And thank you kindly, Lady Arsinoe. I cannot imagine how much I must have put you out.”

“Not at all,” Arsinoe said, beaming at the guest.

Selene frowned in confusion. Just what was going on? Obviously, the queen had asked Arsinoe to host Taryn as a favor. But why?

That’s when Selene noticed the hungry look on Baelan’s face. Like their father, Baelan was unusually well-groomed. He was dressed in his finest outfit – a leather tunic with golden embroidery of a lion on the front – and his hair was carefully oiled in dark curls.

“Lady Taryn,” Baelan said. “How long do you expect to stay in Zheka? May I show you around the castle grounds?”

Taryn giggled, putting a hand over her lips. They were as red as if she had stained them with cherry juice, Selene noticed.

“Please, there is no need to call me lady,” Taryn said. “And yes, I would be honored to accompany you on a walk around the castle grounds.”

Wonderful, Selene thought sarcastically. Mother is going to marry Baelan off before his difficult younger sister, just to make an example of me. But the more she watched Baelan drool over Taryn, the stranger Selene felt about the situation. While she and Baelan had never been close, they had been all too alike in certain ways…namely, both were incredibly dismissive of the institution of marriage. Baelan spent most of his time bedding wenches, but Selene knew for a fact that he’d never planned on marrying any of them.

So, why the sudden change? Was it that Baelan was growing up and becoming a man? Or…

“Selene,” Arsinoe said sharply, interrupting Selene’s chain of thoughts. “Lady Taryn has asked you a question!”

Selene flushed hotly. “I apologize,” she said, forcing a smile and turning to face the beautiful redhead. “What did you inquire?”

Taryn gave a simpering giggle that made Selene want to slap her. “I merely was curious, Selene, do you have a fiancé? Or a husband, perhaps a warrior?”

“No,” Selene said, frowning. “I have not yet wed.”

“To our displeasure,” Arsinoe interjected. “We have been attempting to marry Selene for years.”

“I am sure she will meet the right man soon,” Taryn said, flashing a calm smile at Selene.

Selene felt hot anger bubble in her stomach. How dare she, she thought angrily, balling her hands into small fists under the table. How dare she make fun of me, when she has just met me?

“Taryn, I have never seen such a beautiful woman,” Baelan said grandly. “Tell me, where are you from? Are all of the women in your country as lovely as you?”

Taryn giggled again. “Sir, I regret to say I am unaware of my origins,” she said softly. “I have traveled around the world as a healer, and that has brought me into royal favor. I am sure I was probably birthed of two peasants.”

Selene smiled smugly. There! She thought triumphantly. That should do it. Baelan is the biggest snob I know!

To her immense shock, Baelan smiled sympathetically. “That is very noble,” he said in a deep, husky voice. “I am sure you have earned every bit of respect.”

Taryn smiled and bowed her head. “Thank you,” she said softly.

Selene shot Aya an alarmed look. To her irritation, Aya merely gave a small shrug.

Has everyone completely lost their minds, Selene wondered as she leaned back against her chair and watched her brother fall all over himself, just in the hope of impressing Taryn. I feel like I’ve fallen asleep and woken up in an alternate dimension!

“Taryn is going to sing for us after our meal,” Arsinoe said.

“I am sure she has the voice of an angel,” Baelan said, unable to tear his blue eyes away from Taryn’s face.

Taryn merely smiled. “I hope to impress,” she said softly.

“Taryn, you have barely eaten!” Arsinoe said, frowning. “Have the cooks displeased you? Is there something more to your taste that we could bring for you?”

“No,” Taryn said sweetly. “I am fine. I am not used to eating, much. Most of my diet is grains and fruits and nuts on the side of the road.”

Selene rolled her eyes. This is insanity, she thought. Mother never cares whether the food is good or not – she merely fires the cooks! And she’s never before asked a guest if she would like something different – she knows we have the best food in the kingdom!

“Selene?” Taryn eyed Selene, her green eyes flashing with something that made Selene’s stomach twist. “Are you feeling all right? You are very quiet. Judging from what your mother said, I thought you would be quite lively!”

“I am feeling ill,” Selene lied. She wiped her lips with her silken napkin, then folded it by her silver plate. The plate was still full of food – roasted potatoes, delicious suckling pig, and candied almonds – but she suddenly had no appetite.

“Selene, really,” Arsinoe said, disapproval radiating from her voice. “You must be more genial, we have guests!”

“Oh, really, Lady Arsinoe, it is fine,” Taryn said, smiling. “I am sure Selene just wishes for the comfort of her own bed. I have had those nights, too.”

“Oh, I cannot imagine how difficult life on the road must be,” Baelan said. “Mother, perhaps you should excuse Selene.”

“Very well,” Arsinoe said. She flashed an angry look at her daughter. “Selene, perhaps you should go to bed. You may come down later if you are feeling well enough. I am sure the Lady Taryn would be very happy to sing for you.”

“Oh, of course,” Taryn said. “I hope you feel better soon, Selene,” she added in a simpering tone. “I know how uncomfortable the monthlies can be.”

Baelan burst out laughing and Selene glared hotly at him.

“You do not know anything about me,” Selene said hotly. She stood up so quickly that her chair fell over, clattering to the stone floor with a loud rumble. “I am taking my leave of this table.” Without throwing another look at her treacherous mother or Taryn, Selene turned on her heel and stalked out of the dining room.

“Selene, wait!” Aya yelled, running after her friend. “What’s wrong?”

Selene whirled around. “Who is that women,” she said, shaking her head. “She’s awful!”

“She…is a bit strange,” Aya agreed. “But do you not think you are taking this too far? Your family likes her because your brother does. It is obvious your mother is hoping for a marriage between them.”

Selene frowned and shook her head. “You do not understand my mother,” she said. “She would never want Baelan – or myself – to marry anyone who was not at least our equal in society. This woman – Taryn – she is a traveling peasant!”

“But she is very beautiful, and your brother is quite smitten,” Aya said. “Perhaps your mother is willing to overlook her lack of societal status.”

Selene sighed. “I do not know anymore,” she said softly. “Aya, I am so confused.”

“You should have been kinder,” Aya chided gently. “I am sure it is not her fault that she is so ill-mannered. As you have said, she is a traveling peasant.”

“A traveling peasant for whom I had to wear my best gown,” Selene skeptically, glancing down at her golden dress. The sight gave her considerably less pleasure than it had before the disastrous meal. “Aya, something is wrong.”

“What is it?” Aya stepped closer. “Selene, you may tell me – I am your best friend!”

“Yes, you are,” Selene said. “But…I do not know.” She sighed heavily. “It doesn’t feel right. That…that woman, she made me feel very strange and sick.” Selene put her hand on her lower belly. “And that comment about my monthlies! How did she know?”

“That was strange, I admit,” Aya said. “But she did say she was a skilled healer. Perhaps she can tell by the way you look.”

Selene rolled her eyes. “If someone could tell that I’m bleeding just on the way I look, I would have never gotten away with all of the lies I told when I was younger.”

Aya frowned. “You do make a good point,” she said. “Still, I am sorry. That pig was delicious. Shall I bring you a plate in your chamber?”

Selene shook her head. “No,” she said. “I…I think I am just going to go to bed and see if I feel better in the morning.”

“You’d better not sneak out,” Aya warned.

“Not with that witch around,” Selene muttered under her breath. She took a deep breath, pulling air into her lungs until she thought her chest would burst. “I am sorry, Aya, I spoiled dinner for you.”

Aya shrugged. “You’re not feeling well,” she said charitably. “Perhaps it would be best if you went to bed.”

Selene nodded. She pulled Aya into a brief hug, kissing her friend’s cheek. “Good night,” she said. “You may return my gown in the morning – it isn’t as though I’ll have need for it later tonight.”

Aya laughed. “Thank you,” she said. “And please, do feel better, Selene. I will be praying to the gods for you.”

Selene forced a smile. She watched Aya walk slowly out of the great hall, then turned and sprinted up the stairs. The tight stays of her gown made it difficult, but Selene reached the top of the stairs in record time. She clutched the banister tightly, gasping for air.

What is going to happen, Selene wondered as she pushed open the door to her chamber. And why do I feel so powerless to stop it?

CHAPTER FOUR

Phaelenx

Phaelenx returned home from the arena feeling discontent and unsatisfied. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d come home without a scratch – or the last time he’d been so angry with the other warriors. It wasn’t like the fighters of Zheka to listen to such idle gossip, and Phaelenx was sure something nefarious was going on.

Darius was asleep at his work table when Phaelenx let himself inside and sat down at the kitchen table.

“Shhh, your father is sleeping,” Brenna said. “Poor soul, he works too hard.”

“I know,” Phaelenx said quietly. “I am worried he’s going to wear himself out.”

“Aye,” Brenna said with a nod. “You are home quite early, Phaelenx,” she said. “What happened?”

Phaelenx sighed before launching into the short tale.

Brenna tutted. “Child, nothing is wrong,” she said, ignoring the fact that Phaelenx was far beyond childhood. “I am sure the men are just lazy. Who wouldn’t want an occasional day off?”

Phaelenx frowned. “It wasn’t just that,” he said slowly. “Something else is happening, Brenna, I can sense it.”

Brenna threw her wrinkled head back and laughed. “Aye, there used to be a time when I trusted my gut over my head,” she said wisely. “But I have learned to ignore such impulses.”

Phaelenx sat in silence as Brenna bustled about the kitchen, cheerily putting things in order for an early supper. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d come home in the middle of the day, and he felt strangely hungry and restless. When Brenna set a plate with bread, apple, and cheese in front of him, Phaelenx gobbled down the small meal.

“I’m going to lie down,” Phaelenx said. “When my father wakes up, please, make sure he soaks his hands in warm water.”

Brenna smiled fondly at Phaelenx. “Aye,” she said. “You’ve always been so considerate, child.”

Phaelenx blushed – for what was likely the first time in ten years.

“I love my father,” Phaelenx said quietly. “And I worry about him.”

The sad gleam in Brenna’s eyes told Phaelenx that she felt the same way. Phaelenx climbed the ladder to his loft and collapsed in the straw, closing his eyes and pulling the thin blanket over his muscular body. The air was thick and muggy with late afternoon heat, but he fell asleep in a matter of seconds.

When Phaelenx awoke, he was surprised to see the first light of dawn. He’d slept all day and all night without even realizing it. I must be getting sick, Phaelenx thought as he sat up in bed and reached for his bowl. There was a gnawing ache in his groin, and after he washed his face and hands, he stood up and walked to the edge of the loft, where he pissed down below into the garden – something he hadn’t done since he was a teenager.

“Good morning,” Brenna sang when Phaelenx climbed downstairs and walked into the kitchen. “I’ve made you big a meal, your father insisted when you didn’t wake for dinner last night. You know, you were talking in your sleep.”

Phaelenx shrugged. Again, he felt self-conscious. “I am sure it was nothing,” he said, reaching for a plate loaded with eggs and fat brown sausages. “Perhaps the commotion at the arena, that is all.”

Brenna raised an eyebrow, looking sly. “If the arena was named Selene, perhaps.”

Phaelenx shook his head. “I do not remember my dreams,” he said. “I am sure she wasn’t in them.”

Brenna tutted. “Men,” she said, shaking her head.

Phaelenx groaned. “Thank you for the meal,” he said. “I should be going.”

Brenna passed him an apple and a bit of cheese wrapped in cloth. “I do hope things are calmer today,” she said.

“So do I,” Phaelenx said under his breath. “So do I.”

When Phaelenx arrived at the arena, he noticed a huge crowd of warriors clustered around the side entrance.

“What is going on,” Phaelenx asked Brutus. “Has the keeper not yet come?”

“The arena is closed,” Brutus said. “There is a sign – look, Flavius will read.”

Phaelenx narrowed his eyes. “Why? Worry of sickness, from Nasenia?”

Brutus gave him a dark look.

“Be quiet!” Flavius yelled. “I cannot read if everyone keeps talking over me!”

The men fell silent. Phaelenx frowned and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The ominous feeling that had gripped his heart and stomach the day before had returned, and it was worse than ever before. He felt nervous and uncomfortable, and his palms were sweating.

“By order of the royal family, all warriors are required down at the docks,” Flavius called in a loud, strong voice. “The arena will remain closed until necessary work has been completed!”

“What work?” Phaelenx yelled. “What else does it say?”

“Quiet,” Brutus hissed. “He isn’t through yet!”

“All men are required to work,” Flavius yelled. “Anyone who shirks his duty will be thrown into the stocks and fined five hundred pieces of gold!”

“By the gods,” Brutus whispered to Phaelenx. “Five hundred pieces of gold is more than I’ve made in three years!”

Phaelenx nodded unhappily. He wasn’t in the habit of controlling his own earnings – he left that up to Brenna and his father – but he was sure that he’d never made that sum, despite being Zheka’s best warrior.

“Now, we must go!” Flavius yelled. “I will lead the way. All men who wish to obey, come with me.”

Phaelenx narrowed his eyes. Flavius was a timid, well-dressed man, who wasn’t overly suited to fighting. He came from a semi-noble family and was in the habit of paying off his opponents to finish him quickly without doing mortal damage. Flavius had never been a respected member of the warriors, but now he was acting like someone had died and put him in charge of everything.

“This is suspicious,” Phaelenx hissed under his breath. “Tell me, Brutus, what do you suspect?”

Brutus shrugged. “I do not know,” he said. “We were waiting outside for an hour before Flavius appeared with the decree – perhaps he is up to something.”

Phaelenx frowned. His forehead was creased with worry as he followed the rest of the men through town and down the long sloping lawn that led to the Zhekan pier. He hadn’t been down to the dock since the night he’d rescued Selene, and now her indignant face popped into his mind.

Was she aware of this? As soon as the thought entered his mind, Phaelenx almost laughed. Why would a noble lady like Selene even care about the fate of the warriors? She’s probably too busy putting her feet up and having a servant feed her grapes to even notice, Phaelenx thought grumpily as he followed Brutus down the hill. She’s a spoiled brat, and I don’t know why I can’t stop thinking about her!

“This is odd,” Brutus said, glancing over his shoulder at Phaelenx. “I do not think I have ever been to the docks before.”

“Aye,” Phaelenx agreed, feeling stupid at his lack of insight. The other men seemed disturbed, yet unwilling to break rank and question Flavius. Finally, Phaelenx cleared his throat and pushed his way through the crowd of men. Flavius stood at the head, with a rolled-up piece of parchment clutched in his tiny hand.

Phaelenx grabbed Flavius by the collar, pulling him close and sneering in his face. “What is the meaning of this,” Phaelenx growled. “What is going to happen to us? Are we being sent away on a ship?”

Flavius trembled, and Phaelenx could tell he was struggling to keep his composure.

“Unhand me,” Flavius growled.

“Please,” Phaelenx said, rolling his eyes. “I wish you no ill. I merely want to know what is happening.”

Flavius gave a brief shake of his head. “I do not know,” he said.

A trumpet blasted loudly in the air, and the sound made Phaelenx jump. He released Flavius, who fell to the ground, coughing and choking loudly. Phaelenx eyed him with little sympathy. It seemed unfair that someone who hadn’t earned the respect of the other warriors was now trying to boss them around.

“This is your High Commander speaking,” a male voice yelled. “To your knees!”

Phaelenx bowed low, putting one knee to the ground in unison with the other warriors. When the trumpet blasted again, he looked up to see Aerdan, the Commander, and son of the Queen, sitting proudly on the back of a huge stallion.

“I am pleased to see so much cooperation,” Aerdan said.

He doesn’t sound pleased, Phaelenx thought, trying to keep a neutral expression. He sounds like just as much of a pompous jerk as ever before.

“The arena will remain closed for some time,” Aerdan said. “Instead of fighting, you all will take on an enormous task to ensure the safety of Zheka.”

No one dared reply.

“You all will build ships,” Aerdan said proudly. “You will build a nautical fleet for Zheka. That is good news, men,” he said heartily. “You are all going to be taking part in something very new and important!”

After a few seconds, some of the men began to clap. Aerdan looked relieved, and he smiled.

“Yes, clap, it is good news,” Aerdan said. “You will all be well cared for during this time! You will receive wages and three meals a day.”

Brutus eyed Phaelenx, and Phaelenx could tell exactly what he was thinking: three meals a day? Just how much time are we required to spend on this task?

“It is good news, men,” Aerdan said. “And I will be your supervisor.”

Phaelenx frowned. He didn’t know much about Aerdan – unlike some others in Zheka, Phaelenx had never had an urge to acquaint himself with the royal family. At best, he thought they were spoiled and above the problems of the real world. At worst, he thought they were a bunch of brats.

“It will be a learning experience for us all,” Aerdan said. “And to celebrate, we are going to start with a breakfast before the first ship can be built!”

A lazy ripple of applause went through the crowd, and Phaelenx wondered if everyone was feeling as apathetic and confused as he was.

“Now, men, get ready for the biggest adventure of your life,” Aerdan said. He surveyed the group for a long moment before tugging at the reins of his stallion and galloping away. The trumpeter blew once more, then scrambled after Aerdan.

“This is very strange,” Brutus said as he walked with Phaelenx to a large, lavish table covered with savory meats, cheeses, and bread. “But the food looks incredible.”

Phaelenx frowned. “I think that was the point,” he said slowly. “To distract all of us.”

“Well, it was a good idea,” Brutus said. He grabbed a tin plate and loaded it with ham, slices of cured venison, and soft cheese. Cramming some ham in his mouth, he closed his eyes and tilted his face to the sky in ecstasy. “Phaelenx, you have to try some of this,” he said. “It’s incredible.”

Phaelenx shook his head. “I’m not hungry. I ate before going to the arena this morning.”

“Well, you may as well eat again,” Brutus said. “Why not? It’s free.”

“Why does Zheka need a navy?” Phaelenx asked. “We’re not an adventuring country, and I’d wager to say I don’t think the royal family has any idea of what they’re doing.”

“As long as they keep feeding us like this, I don’t care,” Brutus said. He shoved a huge piece of salt pork in his mouth and chewed with satisfaction. “I’d do anything for this kind of food.”

And that’s the problem, Phaelenx thought as he glanced around. Most of the other men were doing the exact same thing, stuffing their faces from the lavish display. Reluctantly, he reached for a piece of bacon and chewed. It was delicious to feel the fat melting over his tongue, but Phaelenx found he had no taste for the food.

Taking it from his mouth, he tossed it onto the grass and went to sit by the docks.

CHAPTER FIVE

Selene

Selene pressed her face to the cold glass. “Something is going on,” she said quietly. “The warriors have been building for months, and still no news.”

Aya shrugged. “I would not worry about it,” she said. “It isn’t for us to know.”

“Aya, you have to stop being so complacent,” Selene said irritably. “The warriors are no longer fighting – they’re building ships when we’ve never had a need for a navy before. Don’t you want to know why?”

“Not really,” Aya said. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered in the cold night air. “It’s better than them hacking each other up to bits, wouldn’t you agree?”

“But it’s been going on for months,” Selene stressed. “At least three fortnights have passed.”

Aya gave her a blank look. “I am not sure,” she said timidly. “Have you spoken with your mother?”

Selene stared at her. “You forget my mother has barely spoken to me,” she said coldly. “She’s much too concerned with Taryn to care.”

“Oh, Selene,” Aya said. “You still have not warmed to her.”

Selene shrugged. “I don’t really see why I should,” she said coldly. “She’s certainly not warmed to me.”

Aya didn’t reply. Selene pulled her fur-lined cloak closer around her body and pressed her forehead to the cold glass until she felt like her brain was frozen. She closed her eyes and blew on the glass until a cloud of condensation appeared. Tracing her finger in the mist, Selene sighed. She was deeply unhappy. Ever since the warriors had begun building ships, Selene had been too frightened to sneak out. The docks had been a peaceful place of respite before, a place where travelers gathered to sing and exchange tales and lore. But now, the docks were often home to the warriors. From what she’d heard through various pieces of gossip, Selene understood the warriors were being treated very well by the royal family. There were lavish meals every day, and entertainment at night. All she heard was how happy everyone was, but there was something odd to her that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“What is wrong, Selene?”

“I’m restless,” Selene said. She yawned. “Feel like taking a stroll outside?”

Aya looked at her with wide eyes, her blonde hair frizzed in curls to her shoulders. “Selene, it’s dangerous. The men never go home – some of them sleep right out there, on the docks!”

“I know,” Selene said. “I was hoping someone of them could talk to us, you know. Perhaps they could inform us what the nature of all this building is about.”

Aya bit her lip and frowned. “Selene, it’s too risky.”

Selene shook her head. “I feel safer with those men than with Junius or the like,” she said. She rolled her eyes. “At least one positive thing has come of this – Mother no longer puts pressure on me to find a husband.”

“And you’re going to look for one by the docks?” Aya laughed nervously. “Selene, that is insane.”

Selene narrowed her eyes and stared at her friend, unsure how Aya could be so oblivious. Selene and Aya had grown up together, they’d played in the royal gardens and shared whispered secrets under counterpanes and fur coverlets. But Selene’s rebellious streak and Aya’s cautious nature had never quite reconciled, and Selene knew her friend would never truly understand her.

“We will be safe,” Selene said confidently. She grinned and dipped her hand into a desk drawer, pulling a large knife with a barbed blade.

“Selene!” Aya gasped. “Where in the name of the gods did you find that?”

“I bought it from the market,” Selene said nonchalantly. That wasn’t exactly the truth – she’d bribed a hungry servant with gold and food – but ever since the encounter with Junius, Selene hadn’t felt safe. She was wise enough to know that men like Phaelenx wouldn’t always be around…and she wanted to take matters of her own safety into her hands, and her hands alone.

“I can’t believe you,” Aya said. “That kind of weapon is illegal!”

“I know,” Selene said. She frowned. “You are the one who told me it would be wise to train and defend myself.”

“I meant with a skilled warrior, someone who could show you how to move! Not with a knife! Selene, if you were found with that, you would be punished!”

Selene shrugged. “Again, I cannot force myself to care,” she said, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder. She tucked the long knife into a special leather holster strapped to her chest and knotted her hair in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. “But I know this – I will never allow Junius, or any other pig of a man, to harm me again.”

Aya licked her lips. “If you are sure we will not be seen,” she said in a small voice. “I…I cannot deny that I, too, am curious about the state of Zhekan affairs.”

Selene smiled, catlike, before climbing to her feet and opening her wardrobe. She pulled out a fur-lined cap and cloak and tossed both to Aya.

“It is cold outside, winter is nearly here,” Selene said. “Put these on, and we’ll bring a flagon of mead to stay warm. Perhaps if we offer some to the warriors, they will tell us what they know.”

Aya looked doubtful. Selene thought she was going to protest once again, and she sighed impatiently. But to her relief, Aya got to her feet and pulled the cloak around her lithe body.

“We should take more than one flagon,” Aya said. “It is freezing cold out that, and we will need that for ourselves.”

Selene grinned. She’s finally learning, she thought proudly as Aya handed her a second flask filled to the brim with a potent blend of whiskey. Perhaps she’ll learn to be fearless, after all.

Selene and Aya were silent as mice as they crept down the spiral staircase, through the great hall, and out into the night air. It was so cold that Selene felt the tip of her nose go numb. She pulled her fur-lined hood close to her head until her scalp was sweating, but her face still felt cold.

“It is freezing,” Aya complained. “I should not have let you trick me into this!”

Selene laughed quietly. “I did not trick you into anything,” she said. She reached for the flagon of whiskey and took a long sip until her chest burned with the fiery liquor. “Here, this will help.”

Aya took a small sip, coughing and sputtering. She handed the flask back to Selene.

“That does help,” Aya whispered. Her cheeks were pink. “No wonder my mother is always inebriated.”

Selene and Aya giggled as they made their way down the emerald lawn. Selene could see three large bonfires by the docks, with warriors chanting, skirmishing, and shouting. They were large, intimidating men, but Selene was determined not to be frightened. She plastered a smile on her face and strode forward powerfully.

“Selene!” Aya gasped. “What was that?”

Selene and Aya froze in their tracks. A loud growl pierced the air, and a shiver ran down Selene’s back.

“An animal, perhaps in the woods,” Selene said, trying to sound braver than she felt. “It won’t hurt us.”

Aya was shivering. The pink in her cheeks had faded and she looked miserable and scared. She reached into the folds of her robes and pulled the mead flagon free.

“I cannot do this,” Aya whispered. “I am sorry.”

“Aya, do not leave, I promise, we are safe,” Selene said quickly. She wasn’t about to admit that she only felt strong because of Aya’s presence at her side. “No harm will come to you, I promise!”

“I am sorry, Selene,” Aya repeated. She thrust the flagon into Selene’s hands, then turned on her heel and fled. Selene watched with a sinking heart as Aya’s figure grew smaller and smaller. With a heavy sigh, she turned her attention back to the docks. If the men had noticed, they gave no indication. With her head held high, Selene strode towards the docks.

“Aye, lass!” One of the men yelled. “Have you come to lie with us?”

“No,” Selene said sharply. The men eyed her with suspicion and she forced a smile. “I have come to offer you libations, and to hear your tales.”

Two of the men hooted with laughter. “Lady, we have everything we could want,” one said, gesturing at a large table loaded with pitchers of mead, cheeses, meats, bread, and fruit.

Selene frowned. “Perhaps, then, as a gesture of goodwill, you will allow me to sit with you and hear your tales of the work,” she said. “As a citizen of Zheka, I am quite curious.”

A large man covered in tattoos stood from the crowd, glaring at Selene. When she recognized him, she gasped.

“Phaelenx,” Selene said. “I need to speak with you.”

Phaelenx chuckled. “Oh, so now you need me to talk to you?”

The other men fell silent and Selene’s cheeks flamed bright red.

“Yes,” Selene said haughtily. “Please. Come with me.”

To her surprise, Phaelenx shrugged, then parted from the crowd. All of the warriors were silent as Phaelenx joined Selene by her side. She shivered at the sight of him up close – even though she hadn’t forgotten his size, it seemed to her that he had grown even larger and more muscular.

“What is it,” Phaelenx asked quietly. “Why have you come? Are you in trouble?”

Selene shook her head. “Not exactly,” she said softly. She handed him the flask of whiskey. “This is the best whiskey in Zheka,” she said. “I know you’re treated well, but this warms the bones, even in the coldest of weather.”

Phaelenx eyed Selene for a long moment before taking the flagon and lifting it to his mouth. He drank for a long time, and when he handed it back, Selene realized the flask was more than half empty.

“Come,” Phaelenx said in a low voice, his breath sweetened with liquor. “Walk, this way.”

Selene was reluctant to leave the warmth of the fire, but she was eager to get away from the silent, staring men.

“I take it you are not used to visitors,” Selene said lightly.

“No, lady,” Phaelenx said. “Especially not visitors from the royal compound.”

Selene frowned. “I have not been out at night in months,” she said. “There have been no travelers, no bards with news from abroad.”

Phaelenx sighed. “Lady, the only news I can give is that Nasenia is facing a health crisis. There has been a plague, and it has wiped most of the population.”

Selene bit her lip. “Please, don’t call me lady,” she said. She shivered, pulling her cloak tightly around her.

Phaelenx took his own robe from his shoulders and handed it to Selene. She wanted to resist, but the robe was warm and smoke-scented from the flames. As Phaelenx wrapped it around her shoulders, she felt the warmth sink into her bones.

“Why are you building ships?” Selene asked. “At court, there is little else discussed…and yet, no one seems to know the reasoning.”

“I do not know,” Phaelenx said darkly. Selene passed him the whiskey and he took another long pull. When he handed it back to her, Selene took a drink, enjoying the flaming warmth in her throat.

“I just cannot figure it out,” Selene said quietly.

“Commander Aerdan ordered us to build ships, or else face punishment – imprisonment and a fine,” Phaelenx said. “Since then, we have heard nothing from the commander, or the queen.”

Selene took a deep breath. “I’m so confused,” she said.

Phaelenx nodded. “Aye,” he said. “As am I.”

The pair fell into silence as they walked around the docks. Selene turned her face to the heavens and stared at the stars.

“I should be going back to the compound,” Selene said. “My friend, Aya, she was with me, but she ran away before I found you.”

Phaelenx nodded. “I am sure the others will gossip, but do not worry, your secret is safe with me.”

Selene couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I appreciate that.”

They parted ways, and Selene began the long trek back to the royal compound. As soon as she was almost home, she realized that she was still wearing Phaelenx’s warm robe. Gods, she thought in irritation. It’s going to be morning by the time I get home!

In frustration, Selene whirled around and began walking back to the docks. But as she was passing the castle, something caught her eye and she froze.

Taryn, robed in black, was sneaking past the guards at the royal moat.

What now, Selene thought, her heart slamming against her ribs with a cold panic. What is going to happen to us?

CHAPTER SIX

Phaelenx

Phaelenx stood by the docks for a long time, until the sky was beginning to pale. By the time he walked home, the sun was beginning to emerge from the horizon.

Phaelenx yawned, covering his open mouth with a meaty hand. He braced himself against the doorway of his father’s house before summoning the mental strength necessary to face Brenna and Darius.

“Child, you’ve been out all night,” Brenna tutted. “You’ll hardly have any energy for working today!”

“I know,” Phaelenx said grumpily. He gave another long, hitching yawn that seemed to catch in his throat before sitting down at the table.

Brenna put a bowl of water next to Phaelenx. “Wash up, and then we’ll make sure you’ll get some hot food,” she said, clucking her tongue like a mother hen.

Phaelenx obediently washed his hands and face, feeling like a child. Brenna took the bowl away, holding it carefully so no water would slop over the sides.

“Your father was kind enough to bring some eggs,” Brenna said, smiling. “A royal lady gave them to him when he delivered her shoes.”

Phaelenx nodded. “Thank you,” he said, taking the plate of fried eggs from Brenna’s outstretched hands. Then he fell upon the food, eating every morsel and using a crusty hunk of bread to mop up the remaining egg yolk. As he finishing eating, Phaelenx could practically feel the protein soaking into his bones.

“Your cloak is missing,” Brenna said, narrowing her eyes.

Oh, gods, Phaelenx thought, looking down. “No worry,” he said smoothly. “It will be warm today. The sun is already hot in the sky.”

Brenna nodded. “Aye,” she said. “But be sure not to lose that, Phaelenx – you know how hard your father worked.”

Phaelenx nodded. “Aye,” he said. “I left it at the dock. I’ll bring it home this evening.”

Brenna put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side, eyeing Phaelenx so deeply that it made him uncomfortable.

“Child, there is something different about you,” Brenna said. “Tell me, has something happened?”

Phaelenx sighed. The last thing he felt like doing was speaking with Brenna about the strange things happening down at the docks, or Selene’s evident paranoia.

“No,” Phaelenx said after a long pause. “I am fine, I promise.”

Just as Brenna was about to rebuke Phaelenx, Darius walked in. Darius made his way to the larder, where he pulled a few root vegetables and a hunk of cheese onto a small plate. With dismay, Phaelenx noticed that his father looked even more tired than usual.

“It is good to see you,” Darius said, giving his son a tired smile. “Brenna tells me you were out all night, again.”

Phaelenx nodded. “Aye. We were…talking down at the docks.”

“Be careful,” Darius said, his voice suddenly lined with a sharp edge that Phaelenx rarely heard. “You cannot be caught gossiping, not now, Phaelenx.”

Phaelenx narrowed his eyes. “Tis impossible to gossip if no one knows what is going on,” he said, spreading his hands in the air. “And nothing – that is all we know.”

Darius frowned deeply. His forehead was creased with lines of worry and age, and his fragile, broken hands were covered with age spots that Phaelenx couldn’t remember seeing.

“Your mother would have known,” Darius said softly. “Tryphaena was a powerful witch.” He reached out and touched Phaelenx’s forehead. “Tis a pity you inherited none of her seeing powers.”

Phaelenx swallowed, feeling awkward. He thought of his mother often, but as time went on, Phaelenx was increasingly dismayed that he remembered so little about her. When he closed his eyes, he thought he could picture her – a pale woman with soft brown eyes, just like his own – but the image only lasted for a split second before vanishing into nothing.

Darius took his hand away and sighed, shaking his head. “It is better not to dwell on the past,” he said. “And I should be getting back to work.”

Phaelenx nodded. He was exhausted, but even when he’d been coming home at night, he hadn’t been sleeping well. He’d been having disturbing, troubling dreams – the kinds of dreams that left him feeling more tired in the mornings than he had been when he’d first laid down to sleep.

“I should go,” Phaelenx said. He stood up and stretched.

“Try to come home tonight,” Brenna said, raising an eyebrow. “It can’t be good for you, child, staying out all night in the cold.”

Phaelenx shrugged. “I am fine,” he repeated.

It was beginning to feel like a mantra.

Phaelenx walked slowly down to the docks. The other men were already there, working and singing and shouting. Building ships was a very different kind of work than fighting – it was just as physically strenuous, but somehow not as satisfying. I’m building ships for men who don’t even know how to sail, Phaelenx thought cynically as he picked up his worker’s tool belt and strapped it over his broad chest. And more likely than not, these ships will fall prey to storms and enemies. And then we’ll be right back where we started.

“You’re looking rough, brother,” Brutus called affectionately. “No sleep?”

Phaelenx didn’t reply. He took his place at the prow of the ship and began polishing the wood. It was backbreaking work to bring out a toffee-colored sheen in the dull wood, and soon he was sweating and grunting, throwing himself into the work with real effort.

“I slept,” Phaelenx lied.

Brutus threw his head back and laughed. “With that lassie? She was a pretty one, aye,” he said, whistling. “And noble, too, from the looks of her.”

Phaelenx shook his head. “No,” he said. “I did not bed her.”

Brutus’s jaw dropped and he gave Phaelenx a dumbfounded look. “Then you’re a fool,” he said. “Because I would’ve taken her to bed in a heartbeat!”

Phaelenx chuckled. He had the sudden mental image of Selene throwing her flagon at Brutus’s head while she screamed at him and called him a fool.

“Selene doesn’t seem like that type of woman,” Phaelenx finally replied. “She…is fiery.”

Brutus gave Phaelenx a nasty grin. “Aye, and those women are always the best, the little hellcats,” Brutus said. “I like a woman who isn’t afraid to scratch my back.”

Phaelenx chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, by all means, try,” he said cavalierly. “But I doubt she’ll go for it. She’s got a heavy temper, that one.”

Brutus gently punched Phaelenx in the shoulder. “I should like to find out,” he said dreamily. “It’s been months since I’ve been with a woman.”

“Can you think of nothing else?” Phaelenx asked in exasperation.

“Food,” Brutus replied. He closed his eyes and rubbed his stomach. “What I wouldn’t give for an egg or a fresh hunk of meat.”

Phaelenx snorted. “You really are a pig,” he said archly, putting down his oil-soaked rag and leaning against the ship. Even though he had been working for less than an hour, his body was coated with sweat.

“I am not,” Brutus said indignantly. “I’m a real man, that’s all.”

Phaelenx chuckled. With surprising quickness for a man of his size, he grabbed Brutus by the back of the neck and held him high in the air, raising his eyebrow.

“You’re a real man, aye? Could a real man let another man hold him up like this?”

Brutus glared. “Put me down,” he said indignantly. “It isn’t my fault you’re the strongest one here!”

A loud whistle blew and Phaelenx groaned. He dropped Brutus to the ground, where the man fell in a tangle of arms and legs.

“Back to work, men!” A grinning overseer sauntered over, smirking at Phaelenx. “Don’t make me tell the Commander!”

“Aye,” Phaelenx muttered under his breath. Silently, he added: I’m sure you’d have us all work until we’re nothing but bones and dust.

The day passed slowly. The sun was hot overhead – it seemed egregiously unfair that the days could be so scorching and the nights so cold, but Phaelenx was beginning to learn that little about life was fair. By the time he and the men were finished with work for the day and cleared to leave by the shipyard, Phaelenx felt so tired he could barely stand. He bid Brutus farewell and began the long trudge home.

“Child, you look ill,” Brenna said. “Perhaps you should lie down before our meal?”

Moving his lips felt like too much of a challenge, so Phaelenx merely nodded before climbing the ladder that led to his small loft. As soon as his body hit the straw mattress, his eyelids closed heavy and fast, like iron doors.

Hours later, Phaelenx woke to the sound of someone pounding on the front door. He sat up in bed, blearily rubbing his eyes as he got to his feet and climbed down the ladder. The knocking continued incessantly, and Phaelenx groaned with irritation. What, the Commander here to chastise me, Phaelenx thought sarcastically as he pulled the door home. He’s going to wake up the whole house!

To his shock, Commander Aerdan wasn’t standing there. Nor was the overseer at the docks.

It was Selene.

When Selene saw him, she burst into tears and flung herself against Phaelenx. For a moment, Phaelenx was too stunned to move. Then he wrapped his massive arms around her and pulled her close.

“Selene? What’s wrong?” Phaelenx asked. “Has something happened?”

Selene was crying so hysterically that she was choking on her own sobs. Phaelenx led her inside and guided her to the table before fetching a fresh jug of water and pouring her a glass.

“Drink this,” Phaelenx said, handing the glass over. He felt awkward and cumbersome – he’d never been comfortable around people expressing a great deal of emotion.

Selene sniffled. She wiped her nose on the sleeve of her cloak. She took the glass and drank, and Phaelenx saw that her cornflower-blue eyes were streaked with red.

“What is it?” Phaelenx asked gently.

“My stupid brother,” Selene said hotly. She finished the tumbler of water and slammed it down on the table with more force than necessary. “He’s going to ruin everything!”

Phaelenx frowned. “I do not understand,” he said gently. “What exactly has he done?”

Selene slumped her shoulders and sighed heavily. She rested her elbows on the table and put her chin against her tiny fists.

“My brother, Baelan,” she said slowly. “He has fallen in love with an outside – a peasant! – and they’re going to wed.”

Phaelenx shook his head and laughed awkwardly. “Lady, if you are here looking for sympathy from a peasant, I hate to be the one to tell you this – you will not find it from me.”

Selene shook her head bitterly. Her dark hair was loose and it spilled across her shoulders. From where he sat, Phaelenx could make out the faint scent of honey and flowers. He wondered if Selene had perfumed herself – and he hated to admit it, but he found the thought strangely arousing.

“No,” Selene said, drawing in a deep breath. “That is not the problem, I do not care where she comes from. But she is…she is different, Phaelenx. She’s queer – odd, you know, not like us. She isn’t a native Zhekan woman, and she is controlling my whole family.”

Phaelenx blinked. “I am afraid I still do not understand,” he said slowly.

“She showed up, out of nowhere, the night before the arena closed,” Selene said hotly. “And I just know that her presence is somehow connected! And she’s been here for months, charming my brother and my mother and my father. I seem to be the only one who finds her repulsive, even my best friend thinks I am being too harsh!”

Phaelenx was silent. He sensed that Selene hadn’t come for advice, merely to vent about her situation.

“And last night, when I was sneaking back to the royal compound, I realized I was still wearing your cloak,” Selene said. She sniffled again. “I turned back to give it to you, and then I saw her. She was sneaking into the castle, and she was floating above the grass!”

Phaelenx blinked.

“She’s a witch, I just know it,” Selene said vehemently. Her blue eyes glowed with tempestuous fire. “And she is going to be the ruin of my family!” She fell silent, leaning against the back of the chair. It seemed that for a moment, the fire had gone out of her sails. “I have your cloak,” Selene added. “Here.”

“Thank you,” Phaelenx said. He felt more awkward than ever before as Selene reached into a tidy parcel she was carrying and handed him his cloak. A bolt of lust crawled down Phaelenx’s spine when he realized Selene had laundered the cloak – it yielded the same scent of honey and flowers as her hair.

Selene shrugged and sighed, puffing out her cheeks and blowing a stream of frustrated air at the ceiling. “I am sorry if I woke you,” she said softly. “But…I did not know where else to go, Phaelenx. I am so frightened.”

Phaelenx shrugged. “I have not been sleeping well, anyway,” he said. He frowned – somehow, he felt as though he was doing a poor job of comforting Selene.

“It’s just…wrong,” Selene said, closing her eyes. “Baelan swore he would never settle down, and now he’s head over heels for this woman! And my mother, she is acting completely strange, like her mind is somehow different, just because of this woman.”

“That is strange,” Phaelenx said. “What are you going to do?”

Selene looked at Phaelenx helplessly. “What can I do?” She asked softly. “This woman – this Taryn – she is going to ruin everything, I just know it.”

Phaelenx winced as he heard footsteps, fearing his father’s anger. But it wasn’t Darius – it was Brenna. She walked into the kitchen wearing a robe over her nightgown, her head wrapped in a kerchief.

“I heard voices,” Brenna said sleepily, covering her mouth as she yawned. “Phaelenx, why did you not wake me? We have guests,” she said proudly, looking at Selene.

“Brenna, go back to sleep,” Phaelenx said firmly. “She won’t be here for long.”

Brenna eyed Phaelenx, raising her brow and smirking. “I will make a hot meal,” she said. “I am sure everyone here is quite hungry, aye?”

Selene bowed her head. “Thank you,” she said softly.

“Oh, and look Phaelenx, your cloak has returned,” Brenna said, picking it up and holding it in the air. “And someone has fixed the loose seams, and washed it! That is worthy of a meal, now isn’t it?”

Phaelenx bit the inside of his mouth to keep from flushing. “Aye,” he said stiffly.

Selene blushed. “Thank you,” she said again, her voice demure and sweet. “I appreciate it.”

Phaelenx and Selene sat in awkward silence as Brenna bustled about the kitchen, making a quick meal of eggs, toast, and fresh, soft cheese. When the food was ready, Brenna put everything on the table with a flourish.

“Enjoy,” Brenna said. She winked at Phaelenx, who resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Can I provide anything else?”

“No,” Selene said. “This is wonderful. Thank you.”

Brenna smiled broadly and Phaelenx groaned inwardly.

“I know just the thing,” Brenna said proudly. She crossed the kitchen and pulled a jug of aged mead from the larder. “This should help both of you sleep,” she added, setting the jug on the table with two clean earthenware mugs.

“Thank you, Brenna,” Phaelenx said, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. “I appreciate it.”

Brenna beamed. “I know you do, child,” she said. “And Selene, dear, you are welcome here for as long as you like.”

Selene flushed hotly as Brenna excused herself.

“Sorry about that,” Phaelenx said, rolling his eyes as soon as the servant had disappeared. “She’s…very curious.”

Selene laughed. “She is much nicer than any of the kitchen servants my mother employs,” she said. “They give me dirty looks each time I sneak into the kitchen.”

“Brenna is more than a servant,” Phaelenx said. He reached for a piece of bread and chewed thoughtfully. “She came to live with Father and I after my mother passed away.”

Selene frowned. “Oh, Phaelenx,” she said quietly. “I had no idea. I am sorry.”

Phaelenx shrugged awkwardly. “It was a long time ago,” he said slowly. He had no intention of telling Selene that he could barely remember his mother. “And she is a good cook, and she takes care of my father.”

Selene nodded. “She is very kind to both of you,” she said. She bit her lip. “How did your mother pass away?”

Phaelenx took a deep breath and swallowed. Just talking about Tryphaena was difficult – it was hard to believe, but in his thirty-two years, her name had barely passed his lips.

“We do not know,” Phaelenx said after a long pause. “It was…under mysterious circumstances. The healer thinks she fell into an illness after giving birth to me, but my father has never believed that. She was a powerful witch, and my father is convinced something sinister must have happened to her.”

“Oh, how awful,” Selene said softly. She reached for Phaelenx’s hand and took it in her own.

A warm jolt leaped inside of Phaelenx’s chest at Selene’s touch. Her hand was small and dainty, yet calloused and well-used, much like his own. Still, his palm dwarfed her fingers, even when she added her other hand and squeezed him warmly.

“I cannot imagine losing a mother so young,” Selene said. “I am sorry, I did not mean to pry.”

“You didn’t pry,” Phaelenx said. His voice felt strangely husky and deep.

Selene stared deeply into Phaelenx’s eyes. For the first time, he saw that she wasn’t just pretty – she was easily the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her sculpted cheekbones had the icy edge of a goddess, and her tanned skin spoke of a healthy life, a life spent outdoors in the sun.

Selene licked her lips and Phaelenx felt hypnotized by the gesture. Without even thinking of what he was doing, he put an arm around Selene and pulled her closer. For a moment, it was awkward – both were still seated at the table. Then Selene got to her feet and stepped closer to Phaelenx. He was so much taller than she that even seated, they were at an almost even height.

Selene closed her eyes and pressed her face to Phaelenx’s, kissing him so gently that for a moment, he thought he was imagining it. But when he felt the tip of her tongue brush against his lips, he shivered with desire. Wrapping his arms around Selene, he crushed her to his body. She felt like nothing in his arms – slight and delicate as a rare bird.

Phaelenx groaned as the kiss deepened. Selene lowered herself onto his waist and he scooped her up in his arms, standing up and keeping hold of her light frame in an easy gesture. Without breaking the kiss, Phaelenx carried Selene out of the kitchen and up the ladder to his loft. Selene wrapped her arms around his neck and clung closely, breathing hotly on Phaelenx’s neck. The sensation was thrilling and exotic, something Phaelenx had never experienced before. Lust and arousal rushed through his body as he set Selene down on his straw mattress.

Selene broke the kiss and locked her blue eyes with Phaelenx’s brown orbs as she fumbled with the silver clasp of her cloak. The fur-lined material fell around her in a pool of silken wool, and Selene licked her lips nervously as she reached for Phaelenx’s tunic. Selene pulled the rough material over Phaelenx’s head and tossed it to the side. She stared at his muscular chest and gasped softly, running a hand over his many scars from years of fighting.

“Does this hurt,” Selene whispered.

Phaelenx shook his head. “No,” he growled in a husky voice. He took Selene in his arms and pulled her close once again, kissing her deeply. She melted into his arms like a flower, moaning softly as Phaelenx nibbled on her lower lip. Selene wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled her body close to Phaelenx’s muscular bulk. When Phaelenx felt the soft push of her breasts, he groaned. His cock stiffened and twitched in his breeches and he fumbled clumsily with the strings at the bodice of Selene’s gown.

Giggling softly, Selene pushed Phaelenx’s hands away. He watched as she undressed, bowing her head and covering her naked bosom with her long brown hair. Phaelenx took a handful of her soft strands and pushed them behind her back, desperate to see her naked body.

Selene flushed and wiggled out of her dress. Naked, she was so beautiful that it almost hurt Phaelenx to look at her. By now, his manhood was throbbing for want of her. Phaelenx tore at his breeches with more force than necessary, shoving them down his hips and pushing Selene onto her back. She spread her thighs and he crawled between the creamy skin – she was surprisingly pale at the torso for someone who spent so much time in the sun.

“I want you,” Selene whispered into Phaelenx’s ear. She purred with pleasure as he reached a tentative hand to her breasts, thumbing and rubbing her stiff nipples until Selene moaned loudly. Phaelenx covered her mouth with his own as he gently pinched the sensitive skin of Selene’s breasts. Selene was thrusting her hips towards Phaelenx, crying out and straining for want of his manhood.

Steadying himself with a hand braced on Selene’s hip, Phaelenx thrust between her legs. He groaned with pleasure and lust – sliding into her felt like sliding into hot, wet silk. Selene whimpered, wrapping her slender thighs around Phaelenx’s broad waist. She began grinding her hips against his, straining with pleasure. She threw her head back and closed her eyes as Phaelenx lowered his mouth to her exposed neck and began to nibble and suck. Selene moaned, rubbing her hands over Phaelenx’s close-cropped hair, holding him firmly by the shoulders as he began to thrust in and out of her waiting body.

Intense ecstasy ran through Phaelenx’s body as he groaned and thrust, again and again, plunging his manhood in Selene to the hilt. Soon, their bodies were covered in a fine sheen of sweat. The room smelled musky and intoxicating and Phaelenx closed his eyes, thrusting harder than ever before.

Selene wrapped her arms around Phaelenx’s shoulders, pulling him close on top of her and kissing him deeply. She ran her hands over his head and neck as their bodies moved and shifted together in a perfect rhythm of lovemaking. Phaelenx arched his back and grunted as he felt the first wave of his orgasm. As if by magic, Selene moved and whimpered. Phaelenx could feel her secret flower clamping down on his cock and he shuddered and groaned with the knowledge that he was pleasing her. Together they moved like a well-oiled machine as powerful waves of pleasure collapsed over their heads.

When it was over, Phaelenx lay on top of Selene, still grunting. His body felt tingly and excitable, but also heavy and sleepy.

Selene whimpered, pushing Phaelenx to the side and pulling a blanket over their sweaty, naked bodies.

“I’ll just stay for a little while,” Selene whispered. “I am so tired, and this feels so very nice.”

Phaelenx nodded. He was too exhausted to speak, but he suddenly wanted her to stay more than anything. Wrapping an arm around her, it was only a short matter of time before they drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

--

The morning came much too soon. Phaelenx sat up, blinking and rubbing his eyes as he looked down at Selene. In the early morning light, she looked like an angel. Her dark hair was fanned over the pillow, and her lips were curled in a small smile.

He hated to wake her.

“Selene,” Phaelenx whispered, taking her shoulder and lightly shaking.

Selene didn’t stir.

“Aye, a good sleeper,” Phaelenx said, shaking his head and chuckling under his breath. “Selene,” he repeated, shaking Selene a little harder than before. “Wake up!”

Selene stirred, moaning softly and covering her face with her hands. “It’s so bright,” she said in a dry, husky voice. Suddenly, her eyelids shot open and she bolted up, the blanket falling to her waist. When she saw Phaelenx, she closed her eyes and sighed.

“Surprised?” Phaelenx chuckled. “You sleep like a child.”

Selene flushed. “I did not mean to stay the whole night,” she said softly. “I am sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Phaelenx said. He tried to avert his eyes from her bare chest, but it was difficult. He reached for Selene’s gown and handed it to her, looking down at his lap. “I am afraid your dress got dusty,” he said.

Selene shrugged. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. She wriggled into her dress, tugging at the laces at her bodice before reaching for her cloak.

Phaelenx took that as a cue to reach for his own clothing. As much as he wanted to grab Selene and tumble with her on the straw mattress once again, he knew that he was likely already running late for the docks.

“I should go,” Selene said. “It’s late in the morning.” She yawned again. “But I have not slept that well in ages.”

Phaelenx chuckled. “Well, then, perhaps it was a good thing,” he said, catching her eye.

Selene flushed hotly. “Aye,” she said softly.

Phaelenx led the way down the ladder. He desperately hoped that Brenna would have left for the markets, but to his dismay, she was bustling around the kitchen. A plate of hot, steaming rolls sat on the table and the smell was so intoxicating that Phaelenx nearly growled.

“Ah, Lady Selene,” Brenna said, smiling widely. She tried to catch Phaelenx’s eye but he darted around her and took one of the rolls, breaking apart the soft bread and inhaling the fragrant steam.

“Please, do not call me lady,” Selene said, flushing. She pulled her cloak tightly around her throat, and Phaelenx stared at her. The way her dark hair was tousled in the early morning sunlight touched his heart – had it not been for Brenna, Phaelenx would have pulled Selene into his arms and kissed her deeply.

“Well, have something to eat, please,” Brenna said, curtseying low. “I made these just for the two of you. I thought you would both be exhausted.” She winked at Phaelenx.

“Thank you, Brenna,” Phaelenx said stiffly. “I should be going.”

“Aye, child,” Brenna said, her eye still gleaming mischievously.

Phaelenx groaned inwardly. Gods, let her drop this pretentious act, he thought, sighing at the way Brenna was eyeing Selene. I am sure it is embarrassing!

But to his surprise, Selene smiled sweetly. “Thank you, Brenna,” she said. “My own cooks rarely take the time to make anything special.” She sat down in a chair and nibbled delicately at a sweet roll. “These are delicious,” she said.

Brenna beamed. “Thank you, child,” she said. “Now, Phaelenx, you’d best be getting on. Your father has been in his shop for over an hour!”

Phaelenx rolled his eyes. “Right,” he said. He put an apple and a hunk of cheese inside the leather pouch at his waist – despite the mountains of food provided to the workers, he couldn’t quite get rid of an oddly squeamish feeling about accepting it. It’s like a bribe, he thought. But what are they trying to buy from us?

CHAPTER SEVEN

Selene

Selene had barely gotten back to the royal compound when her mother flew into her chamber as if possessed by spirits.

“Selene! Where have you been, child? The wedding is today!” Arsinoe said loudly, panting from the effort of the stairs. Despite her red, sweaty face, she looked more beautiful than Selene had never seen. Arsinoe was in a lavish gold and cream dress, trimmed with ermine fur at the collar, with a long lace train that she held clutched in one hand.

“I am sorry, Mother,” Selene said automatically. “I forgot.”

“Child, what in the name of the gods is wrong with you,” Arsinoe said bitterly. “First, you forget to come down to dinner! Then you sleep in your clothes, look at you! You look as unkempt as a peasant!”

“Like the one Baelan is marrying?” Selene asked sourly.

“Selene!” Arsinoe said, her hand clutching at the bosom of her gown. “You must not speak that way! Lady Taryn is soon to be your sister-in-law!”

“I know,” Selene said dryly. “That was exactly the point I was making.”

Arsinoe heaved a huge sigh. “Please, Selene, change immediately. The marriage will take place at once, and you are expected to be there, along with everyone else who matters in this kingdom!”

Selene frowned. “Mother, I do not feel well,” she said. It wasn’t exactly a lie – Selene felt queasy at the prospect of watching Baelan and Taryn wed, and she couldn’t stop thinking about Phaelenx. She already missed him – she knew it was nonsense, but she couldn’t get the muscled warrior out of her head.

“That is too bad,” Arsinoe snapped. She crossed the floor and yanked open the doors to Selene’s wardrobe. “Here,” she said, snatching a gown and tossing it onto the bed. “And bathe,” she added sternly. “You smell like a farmhand, Selene!”

Selene flushed. “Yes, Mother,” she said in a rare show of obedience. “I will as soon as I am alone.”

Arsinoe left Selene’s chamber in a huff. Selene rang the bell for her maid, then ordered a hot steaming bath for herself. Maybe if I fall asleep in the water, I’ll miss the wedding, she thought bitterly.

Selene removed her gown, dropping it on the floor, and climbed slowly into the copper tub. The water was scorching hot – it burned her delicate skin – but she gritted her teeth and lowered herself into the steaming liquid until she was submerged to the neck. Selene lay there for a long time until the steam faded and the water began to cool. Then she reached for a sponge and scrubbed herself all over until her skin was stinging. She closed her eyes and imagined Phaelenx in the tub with her, his muscular legs woven with hers. The thought made her lower belly tingle and twitch with arousal and she sighed, closing her eyes and resting her head against the lip of the tub.

Selene wondered when she would see him again. Obviously, Phaelenx wouldn’t be at the wedding – none of the warriors would. But if Baelan remained anything like the brother she had known her whole life, Selene had a feeling there would be a warrior show after the wedding. She rolled her eyes as she stood and climbed carefully out of the large copper basin. Men are men, she thought. At least, until they’re not, she added silently, thinking of the besotted expression she’d witnessed on Baelan’s face the first night Taryn had dined with her family.

Selene wondered if Phaelenx would ever feel that way about her. Somehow, the thought made her feel hollow and empty and sad like she’d received news of a distant relative dying. With a frown, she pushed the thought of her head and dressed in a fine gown – deep eggplant-colored silk, with golden embroidery all over the bodice. She dressed her hair carefully in a heavy braided bun at the nape of her neck, then pulled a silk snood with pearls over her head and pinned it over her hair.

“I am ready,” Selene said out loud, to no one. The words seemed to hang in the air of her room and she rolled her eyes at her reflection before swishing her skirts and descending the staircase.

Aya was waiting in the great hall. “Your mother told me you would be here,” Aya said, dipping into a slight curtsey.

Selene grabbed Aya’s wrist. “Please, Aya, do not curtsey to me,” she said, rolling her eyes. “There is no need for that.”

Aya looked around to make sure no one was watching, then stuck her tongue out at Selene. “If the queen saw me greet you without doing so, I’m sure my father would be fined, or something,” she said, shaking her head and laughing.

Selene nodded, secretly relieved that Aya was apparently in one of her less-formal moods.

“I cannot believe it is happening today,” Selene said quietly. She put her arm through Aya’s as they walked through the royal compound.

“I know,” Aya said, clucking her tongue. “I cannot believe your brother is marrying!” She flushed. “You will hate me for this, but I always nursed a secret affection for him. That is until he said he never planned on marrying!”

Selene giggled. “I always knew it,” she said. “You could never keep your eyes away from him when we were children,” she said. “And trust me, Aya, I had no idea that he would ever break that promise. I thought he would die a single man.”

Aya turned to Selene and raised an eyebrow. “He met the right woman,” she said serenely. “And now he is content to settle down and become a family man. Perhaps that is all it takes,” Aya added, giving Selene a look that made her flush.

“Perhaps,” Selene said, biting her tongue so she would not speak of Phaelenx. Despite her best efforts to forget him, his handsome face popped into her mind and she shuddered at the memory of his hands on her body.

“Selene?”

Selene blinked. “Yes?”

Aya laughed. “Now I know someone is on your mind,” she said slyly. “Do tell me.”

“No,” Selene said, tossing her head haughtily in the air. She put on a smug face. “Besides, I would not deny my brother the pleasure of being the center of attention today. It is all I can do, as a loving sister.”

Aya snorted. “You are not fooling me,” she said. “I know there must be something that’s gotten you so distracted. Or someone,” she added, smirking at Selene.

The two women reached the doors of the ceremony hall and Selene felt a wave of apprehension.

“Aya, I do not think I can go inside,” Selene whispered. “I am too anxious.”

“Selene, this is your brother’s wedding,” Aya said. “You must.” She glanced dubiously at Selene. “Where is your strength? You are always the one encouraging me to act out of turn!”

“I know,” Selene said. She took a deep breath and straightened up to her full height, holding her head high. “Come,” she whispered.

Selene led the way into the massive hall. It was very old – even older than the castle – and it had been built when Zheka had first been settled. Selene had always found the building peaceful and cool: even when it was scorching outside, the stone beams and walls of the ceremony hall seemed to calm to her. But today, her heart was pounding and the blood was pumping through her veins.

Aya took her place in the middle of the seats as Selene made her way to the front. She was relieved to see a vague look of approval on Arsinoe’s face as she took her place next to her mother and father. Baelan stood at the stone altar, looking joyous and anxious.

“Your brother looks so handsome, does he not,” Arsinoe whispered to Selene. “I have never seen him look finer.”

Selene barely had time to nod before loud trumpets sounded. The entire room fell to their knees as Queen Zornaya, Commander Aerdan, and Aerdan’s wife Lady Angelica began to walk down the aisle. The Queen looked radiantly beautiful, but there was a hint of unease on her beautiful face. Selene dipped her head as the royals moved past her and her family, taking their place in the golden thrones at the head of the room.

“Beloved subjects,” Queen Zornaya began. “We have come here to witness the joining of two souls, for all eternity.”

The crowd murmured and hummed with approval.

“I wish to introduce you all to Lady Taryn, the bride of Sir Baelan Covendane,” the queen continued, speaking in a loud, stately fashion. “She is to be treated with kindness and love, and may she and Sir Baelan lead a very happy life, with many children.”

Selene watched as Arsinoe dabbed her eyes with a silken tissue. She frowned, glancing down at the tops of her golden slippers.

Soft harp music began to play and the room fell silent once more as Taryn entered. She was robed in a bright, lurid red that made Selene’s eyes hurt. Her pale skin glowed with a supernatural cast, and her green eyes shone. Selene saw that Baelan was rooted to the spot, grinning like a fool as Taryn stepped daintily down the aisle.

“She is so beautiful, do you not agree,” Arsinoe whispered to her daughter. “They will have beautiful children!”

Selene bit her lip in distaste. “Yes,” was all she could manage to say. “I am sure they will.” More than anything, Selene wished that Phaelenx was with her. Even though he would be out of place in such a grand room, Selene knew his presence would bring her comfort.

The ceremony began. Baelan’s eyes stayed glued on Taryn, but Selene noticed that Taryn kept glancing around the room as if looking for something. A high priestess bound Baelan’s and Taryn’s hands with a silken cloth, then spoke an ancient Zhekan spell of love and fidelity.

The crowd chanted and cheered as Baelan and Taryn kissed. Arsinoe was weeping openly, muttering to herself about how happy she was. Selene forced a smile as the newly wedded couple walked down the aisle, arm in arm.

Queen Zornaya got to her feet and the room fell silent.

“In honor of this great marriage, a very special show will be held at the arena. Lavish food and drink will be provided for all, and tonight we will feast in the castle,” she said grandly, spreading her arms in the air. “Please, if you wish to spend time with the happy couple, think of joining us.”

Selene’s heart sank. Of course, there’s going to be a fight, she thought, shaking her head.

The crowd began to filter out of the ceremony hall. Selene pushed through the crowd to where Aya was standing with her father and younger siblings.

“Selene, are you going to the show?”

Selene sighed. “I do not want to,” she said. “But I have a feeling that skipping it isn’t worth the fight I’ll have with my mother later.”

Aya slipped her arm through Selene’s. “Come,” she said. “We will walk together, then,” she said.

The two women followed behind the large crowd. As soon as Selene was out in the sunshine, she glanced down to the docks. Men were swinging and singing as they worked, but as hard as she tried, Selene could not make out Phaelenx.

“Who are you looking for?” Aya asked, smiling.

“No one,” Selene said. She raised her eyebrow. “I do not know why you are so curious this morning,” she added lightly.

Aya flushed. “You have been strange and secretive,” she said. “I am just wondering, that is all.”

Selene felt an unexpected rush of annoyance. She didn’t know why she felt as though she had to keep Phaelenx a secret – perhaps with everything going on, it didn’t seem appropriate to dwell on her growing feelings?

Or was it something else, something more powerful?

Selene had never felt as though she was in love with anyone. But being around Phaelenx made her feel different, lighter somehow.

“I wonder who will be fighting,” Aya said dreamily as they made their way to the arena. “It’s been months since a fight has taken place – I hope it’s a good one.”

Selene wrinkled her nose. “I’d just as soon never sit through another show again,” she said, swishing her skirts. “But I am not surprised. Baelan loves the blood sport.”

Aya nodded. The women joined a long queue outside of the arena, then filtered inside. Selene took Aya up to the royal box, which was reserved for the queen, the commander, and just for today, Selene’s family.

Selene was relieved to discover the box was so high above the arena that she could barely see anything. She took a goblet of mead from a servant and perched against the cool stone wall, shading herself from the sun.

From below, a loud trumpet sounded.

“Welcome to the most exciting spectacle of the year,” a man yelled loudly. Selene frowned, peering down. He was dressed in a red tunic, waving a flag in the air. “Today we will celebrate the two most celebrated warriors of Zheka – Phaelenx Cobbler and Thracian Pitino!”

“Oh, gods,” Selene whispered, clutching at her breast. “No!”

“Selene?” Aya looked at her friend in confusion. “What is the matter?”

Selene felt faint as she sank down low against the wall. She wanted to look away, but the loud screams and jeers from the crowd made her feel compelled to keep watching. As the two men entered the arena, she gasped. Phaelenx was wearing a set of flimsy-looking leather armor and brandishing a short sword that was battered and stained. The other warrior, Thracian, looked angry and mean. Like Phaelenx, he had close-cropped hair. But unlike Phaelenx, Selene could clearly see that his thin lips were twisted into a scowl.

“It’s not fair,” Selene said quickly. “They have had no practice in months!”

“I know,” Aya said, clearly oblivious to her friend’s distress. “It will be so exciting, do you not agree?”

Selene wiped her damp palms on her heavy brocade skirts. The cool breeze ruffling her snood barely refreshed her, and she narrowed her eyes, leaning out of the window and watching as Phaelenx and Thracian circled each other.

“Fight!”

“Fight! Slaughter him!”

“Tear him apart!”

The cries from the crowd were almost too much to bear. Selene’s eyes stung and her heart was pounding. Phaelenx and Thracian were still circling each other, almost like lovers preparing to dance. When Thracian lashed out, Selene gasped. Phaelenx leaped nimbly away, brandishing his sword and swishing it through the air.

Thracian growled, beating his chest. He threw his knife down on the dirt, lowered his head, and charged at Phaelenx. Selene reached for Aya’s hand, tightly squeezing her friend’s fingers as Phaelenx sailed into the air and landed with a hard thud on the dusty ground.

“Phaelenx!” Selene cried, biting her lip until she tasted salty blood. “Oh, Phaelenx! Be careful!”

Aya gave her a friend a strange look. “Phaelenx? Is he the man bewitching you, Selene?”

“Not now,” Selene said quickly.

In the arena below, Phaelenx scrambled to his feet. He thrust into the air with his sword, piercing Thracian’s side.

Thracian howled in pain, but he didn’t stop moving. He swung a powerful fist into the air, catching Phaelenx in the jaw and knocking him down to the ground.

As Selene watched, she felt as though her heart would pop out of her chest. The people cheered and booed, and Selene gripped the stone edge of the window, glancing down at the arena with her breath caught in her throat.

Thracian was bleeding heavily, staining the dusty arena floor. Phaelenx grabbed his sword once again, slicing through the air, and cutting Thracian across the abdomen. Selene gasped as Thracian stumbled backward, falling down to the ground. When his eyes closed, Phaelenx waved his bloodied sword in the air triumphantly.

“That isn’t fair!” Baelan cried from behind Selene. “They barely fought!”

“Oh, shut up,” Selene hissed. “One man is dead, aren’t you happy?”

Baelan smirked at his sister. “No,” he said. “I am not. I want more!”