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Windows were spread along the sides with curtains already drawn. Zylah grabbed a door without knocking and pulled it open.

Light spilled from within along with dozens upon dozens of scents.

Half-breeds.

Arianna’s brows shot up as she followed Zylah inside. It was clean, thank the gods, but at least thirty bunk beds lined the left wall separated by small oak dressers with a single drawer and pocket underneath.

Across from them, tables lined one part of the wall while a kitchenette filled up the rest. Dishes were clean and stacked. Glass pitchers of water sat half empty and a single, large bathroom stood to her immediate right. Arianna glimpsed shower spouts lining the rear wall inside.

Half-breeds who were housed together and forced to eat and bathe together as well. She’d wondered if they were allowed in the city at all and now Arianna had her answer.

As long as they wore irons.

She clenched her jaw. All this time she’d thought Ruadhán functioned like Móirín with paid servants. But she’d been wrong. So painfully wrong.

All the shadows and flickers of movements that had caught her eye were slaves going about their daily routines. They’d placed a glamour over her. Niall and the council had violated her by tricking her mind into seeing what they wanted her to see.

And she’d been naïve enough to believe those from Pádraigín wouldn’t use their talents on her without her permission. Niall had played his part well.

A slave stood and fear washed through the area as silence settled over the room. Their heads turned toward her one by one and iron gleamed in the overhead light.

Another rose to their feet, then backed toward the rear of the room. Still another glanced toward their bunkmate as if questioning what they were supposed to do in her presence.

Some pulled on clothes, their hair still dripping from a recent bath. All gaped, pushing family and friends behind their bodies as if . . . as if she were a threat.

Arianna wasn’t sure her heart could handle much more.

She stepped forward and the five closest to her stepped three paces back.

Her lungs seized and she held up her hands. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

The two closest, both males, eyed one another and bowed their heads low. “Is there something we can assist you with?”

“You’re slaves.” The pair exchanged glances. “You’re slaves in the royal city.”

“I’m afraid we don’t understand, Your Grace.”

Arianna clenched her fists, hating the fear that leaked from their bodies. “Who did this to you?”

“Don’t bother.” Arianna spun to find Ellie standing in the doorway. The bags beneath her eyes had grown and her clothes were wrinkled as if she’d rushed to throw them on. Her sister looked more haggard than Arianna had ever seen her. “They’re bound to secrecy and far too scared to speak.”

Fear. Survival. Pain. Arianna knew those things too well. The memories were too recent and floated near the surface. “This is unacceptable.” It was far more than, that but she couldn’t find the proper words.

Her breath clouded the air, that ancient thing in her blood writhing beneath her skin. She twisted back to face the slaves. “Are you the only ones?”

They exchanged glances again as if speaking a language only they understood. She knew that language. It was a myriad of brief gestures they prayed would remain unnoticed by their captors. If it didn’t—she cringed, remembering the sound of the whip as it hit her skin.

Rion’s deep voice broke the silence. “Your queen asked you a question.”

Arianna whirled on him, her anger seeping out as ice cracked along the concrete floor in his direction. Rion visibly flinched back and immediate guilt flooded through her at the sight. Arianna tried to rein herself in but her voice still shook. “Don’t—”

She’d meant to say don’t intimidate them. Don’t frighten them or force them into anything they didn’t wish to do. But words failed her.

Rion bowed his head and stepped back. She hated his submission almost as much as she hated the iron around their wrists.

One of the male slaves swallowed before saying, “There are a few more buildings like this one down the path.” He pointed, still unsure. “And another set on the other side of the city.” His voice lowered. “But some of us sleep in our masters’ quarters for their convenience.”

Convenience. Arianna bristled at the word, remembering things she’d rather have erased from her memory.