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Eryn’s next question is directed at the guard handling our paperwork. “Xavi, what are her charges?”

“Caught moving about Castle City with no official permissions. Resisting detention and assaulting a peacekeeper.”

“Tovi, what is your reason for being in Castle City without permission, and why did you resist detention, assaulting a peacekeeper?” Eryn’s cool voice asks her, the only sign that he’s anything but cool is the fast and bulging pump of the lifeblood line in his neck.

“I, too, was looking for someone. The person I love. I had traveled here alone in shame after…after I betrayed my friend here,” Tovi’s voice catches as she gestures to me, and continues with a wobble. “I had barely eaten for days and was delirious by the time I reached Castle City. I thought what I did was the right thing, but I know now that it wasn’t. Please forgive me?”

Lylle’s head tips slightly as he stares above Tovi. The king whispers something and he looks back, chuckling and going back to his disinterested look. Whatever he saw, it wasn’t enough to flag Tovi as a liar.

“What are your Gifts? I see you’re both Patrons of the Divine.”

“I am a Null, sire,” I answer quietly.

Tovi follows. “And I am a Junky, with object empathy.”

The king’s interest is piqued, a smile that I could only deem venomous slowly spreading across his lips as he looks me over. He doesn’t look me in the eye once, only assessing every inch of my body instead. My skin crawls.

“Lylle, do both of these women speak the truth?” Eryn asks, not looking over at the living lie detector.

“I see no lies, Prince Eryn.”

“Thank you. Mika, Tovi,” Eryn addresses us both, making eye contact with calculation beyond his sixteen revs. “Both of your crimes are punishable by death.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

My mouth drops and Tovi sucks in a hard breath, but Eryn isn’t finished.

“However, I think you both understand the gravity of your offenses. Your punishment is life.” Eryn makes eye contact with his father briefly before taking a breath and delivering the rest with so much cruelty that I could almost believe it was true. “Life, as Royal doxies. Guards, take them to the doxy wing.”

Tovi screams. “No! You can’t do this!”

I put a mask of horror on my face as the tears fall from my eyes. But they are tears of relief. That sneaky little shit. He’s a king in the making, after all. I can’t tell if Tovi’s terror is real or also a mask. It sounds real enough, but surely she realizes that this is exactly where we need to go?

“If I may, son?” the king’s voice interjects and my hope, already balancing on a precipice, wobbles dangerously.

“Guards, please take them to the healing wing for inspection first. Divine knows what they have picked up. And keep them in the guest chambers next to the doxy wing. My son’s doxies will need to be kept separate,” he says with as much emotion as if he were talking about a horse, switching his indifferent face to his son and giving him a benevolent smile.

The guards pull us up by our manacled hands as the king leaves the dais, followed by Eryn and Lylle. We’re being marched at sword point down a hallway, Tovi muttering tearfully to herself.

“I can’t do this, Mika!” she says with a voice dipped in panic, pulling away from our guards.

“Yes, you can. Think of your lover,” I say pointedly, hoping to get through to her. “Think about whether they would prefer you dead or as a doxy.”

“Hurry up royal whores, we don’t have all day,” one of the guards bark, shoving Tovi’s shoulder.

I’m not sure whether she’s clicked yet, but she remains silent for the rest of our trip.

Tovi and I are awaiting a healer, both strapped to reclined chairs and unable to move. It’s been at least half an hour since we saw the guards after they strapped us down and left the room. Tovi and I haven’t dared to speak to each other, not knowing if we could be heard.

The healer arrives—an ordinary man—not a Patron of the Divine. He doesn’t even speak to us; he only washes his hands and then begins inspecting me. Tovi stares intently at me, not taking her eyes off his hands and where they begin to touch me.

“Open your mouth,” the healer orders, in a voice gentler than I was expecting.

“Tilt your head.

“Look left…look right.

“Lift your chin.”