“Highness.”
The quiet voice came from a guard bowing before the throne. At the Queen's gesture, the woman straightened. “We caught a man posing as a guard in the lower dungeons. He killed two of ours, injured a few others. We have him in a cell, but there was someone else with him. They got away.”
The Queen’s claws tangled in his hair. “Killed two of you? Are you all so incompetent? Who did he kill?”
“Captain Alfred and dungeon guard Kristine.”
“Alfred. Hmm, sounds familiar. Oh.” She was silent for a few moments. “He was entertaining. What a pity. Well, if this impostor is a good fighter, toss him in the pits for the tournament. If he survives, maybe he'll be interesting.”
The guard dipped her chin. “My apologies, highness, but his hand is broken, and he's in no condition to fight.”
The Queen huffed. “In that case, he's useless to me. Question, then execute him. And do your job – find whoever escaped!”
The guard bowed deeply and turned.
“Wait.”
That single, calm, unassuming word shouldn’t have rang so loudly or so clearly. It seemed to echo in the hall, a command that no one could ignore. Conversation faltered as heads turned to the speaker.
From behind a pillar strode a woman. She was as unassuming as that word. Short. Small. Dressed in leathers like a guard herself, but her bearing proud. As if in slow motion, guards rushed her from the walls.
Bright green eyes snapped to his.
It washervoice. The voice from his dreams. His ears buzzed. He was imagining it.
But those eyes…
Memories fell into place with the clarity of a mirror shattering in backward motion. The pieces fit, not a single shard was missing. But his mind wasn’t a mirror. It was a vase shattered beyond repair. Fractured, at best. Useless, more likely.
The pieces must have fallen together incorrectly. He was only seeing what he wanted to see.
She was beautiful. Oh, she wouldn't agree – her hair was slightly out of place, her leathers were no flowing dress, and her expression was anything but kind. But she was the most beautiful sight he had ever beheld.
Much too glorious for the likes of him. He looked away. The last memory he had of her was an argument right before he… left. Leaving her had been easy. He had already wanted to. He did not belong with her. Never had.
Logically, Castien knew that he didn’t like Nadraken either. This was not his home. Mistress was terrible and cruel. But he had no home, and she wanted him.
The other Queen… Anais. The name bit him like the cold winds of deep winter. He didn’t need to lift his gaze to know every detail of her face, to know she was staring at him with hard emerald eyes, demanding he look at her, acknowledge her.
But she was not real. She was not here. She was not real.
She hadn’t come for him before. He didn’t blame her. She was the Queen; she couldn't abandon everything for him. She shouldn't.
She had less reason to come after him this time. Unless she was here to stab a knife into his heart. But no, she would send Vern or Thakris. Maybe not even them; why waste an Escort on him?
She wasn't here. This was just another test. She wasn’t real.
And if she was, the only thing he’d see in her eyes was hatred.
The Queen of Nadraken sat up straight, her claws leaving his hair. “What do we have here? Another rat?”
Guards surrounded the woman. Metal sang as swords cleared their sheaths. He watched the floor, their feet. They all wore the same boots – brown leather, dull metal studs, brown laces. Her boots were black. They were dusty and weathered, but familiar. The Escorts’ leathers were black. If she turned, there would be an engraving of a hawk. His eyes darted away.
From the tables came a bark of laughter. Prince Balak pushed a woman off his lap. “I’d know that pretty face anywhere! Fancy seeing you in Nadraken of all places, Queen Anais. Here for the tournament? Cancelled your own because this one’s better?”
Mistress’ claws scraped her throne. She leaned forward. “Anais? You do have her eyes. Hmm… Yes, it has been a while, hasn’t it, Sister? The Queen of rats herself! Welcome to my court, dear Sister!”
It couldn’t be. She wasn’t real.
