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“Don’t. Don’t ever kiss me again, Riley,” I plead, my voice barely a whisper.

“Firecat,” his deep voice croaks out as he reaches for me again. And again, I dodge him, leaving his hands hanging in the air. “Mika…” He says my name as if it’s a plea.

The unhinged tone of my voice forces my rage to scream louder, and I grimace in pain as I beg. “Promise me. Promise me!”

All I get are those red-rimmed eyes and a strained look on his face. So, I leave, slamming the door behind me. I have everything I need for today and I’m not eating lunch. I’ll wait for Bitty downstairs.

Please let there be a breeze outside to calm me.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

The streets of Castle City are buzzing with activity. To avoid suspicion, I look for other Patrons in uniform and follow them while they line up to enter the gates. Bitty assures me that it’s to stem the flow of people going in and not that they will be checking who I am.

As promised, I am able to pass through the large gates into the castle’s surrounds. Once inside the main foyer, I am immediately swept up in a throng of clamoring people. It’s chaos in here. People are everywhere, fighting to be first in line to be seen by the king. I manage to get away from the hordes of people and into a corridor with many passages. I pretend I belong here.

I’m slipping down corridors and checking random doors as I go, trying to get as far east as possible. I pass few people, and any I do see, pay me no mind until I come across a handful of guards who direct me to go “back that way”. Knowing I hadn’t come across any other way east from this level, means I am going to need to go up a floor and try again.

I’m striding down a wide corridor back the way I came when the king steps into view with his royal guard. Not able to slow my step without making it obvious to the people and guards behind me, I keep my pace. That is, until the king turns around.

King Stol Brud Oferdu has violet-colored eyes.

Several people bump into me, causing a small scene. Recovering myself, I apologize and try to slip away, but a guard roughly grabs my arm.

“I don’t recognize you. Show me your tattoo and state your position.”

“There’s no point, it won’t match my pin.” I huff in resignation, hoping this unexpected admission brings the least amount of attention.

I am fortunate that the king doesn’t miss a step and continues on, unaware of the scene unfolding behind him. I crane my neck to follow him around a corner of glass and confirm that he does indeed have the eyes of a Patron.

My mind reels as the guard roughly drags me toward the dungeon. I assume. I hope.

I’m thrown into the arms of a woman in a small room, with stairs leading down to the dungeon. The putrid smell wafting up makes my eyes water.

“Strip,” the guard who brought me in orders, leering.

“Fuck off back to your post, Gomi,” the woman snaps at my Erduborn guard, revealing a large gap between her top front teeth.

Alone with the woman, I try not to react. She’s a Mutt. A few inches taller and wider than me—and exceptionally muscular—she legitimately looks like she could snap me in half. And maybe she can. She has the violet eyes of a Patron too.

“Unfortunately, I do need you to strip and give me any weapons,” she says, closing the door to the hall we came from.

I pull the knife out first and hand it to her. Not knowing what her Gift is, it would be a foolish risk to fight her. To distract myself from the task at hand, I study the woman as I undress.

Her skin is burnt sienna, but her nose, cheeks, and even her full lips are covered in dark freckles. Her medium-brown hair has a distinct orange hue to it, and she wears it free in a lovely mass of kinky curls coiling very tight. It doesn’t reach her shoulders, but if it were straight, I imagine it would be quite long.

Sadoriborn and Nemorisborn. How does that even happen when they’re almost at opposite ends of the world?

Not many records still exist from before the Divine Intervention, but Divine Law was introduced to keep the peace. It became forbidden to live anywhere other than the country of your eye color. Sadoriborn all have the yellow eyes of the sand, Mievaborn all have the gray eyes of the mountains, and so on. Osraed became the central country where the Gifted were sent, and the Patron of the Divine Council was established, not having anywhere else to belong.

People who had the physical features of one country but the eye color of another were treated little better than thieves. Someone who looked like a Laguzborn but had Oferdu brown eyes of the earth would have to live in Erdu; the Oferdu people believing they stole from the earth. They wouldn’t be able to live in Laguz because their eyes were not the blue of the water, despite their otherwise Laguzborn appearance.

People stopped having children with anyone outside of their own country for fear of having a child they couldn’t keep. The countries became monolithic, and Mutts became more obvious and subjected to cruel punishments and violence for the rest of their lives. Parents abandoned children or even outright murdered their infants at birth.

The Gifted didn’t become slaves right away. It wasn’t until Osraed had become an entire country full of Patrons that they realized the concentration of Gifts made them a threat to the other five nations. A war ensued where countless lives were lost.

Divine Law was then updated to what it is today: A Patron can never have agency over themselves and will be the property of the country that owns them. We are chattel.

“You done gawking, prisoner?” the guard asks with a tone that suggests it happens often.