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Ryn yanked her arms back. “I’m fine,” she said.

“That’s not why I’m searching.” He rolled his eyes.

“Then why look for bruises?” It came out like a scold, and she closed her mouth when maids around the atrium scowled at her for raising her voice atthe King.

“I’m trying to decide if he should die today,” Xerxes said, and Ryn’s stomach dropped.

“W… What?”

“The guard,” Xerxes clarified. His brows tugged in when he studied the look on her face. “You don’t want him dead?”

“No!” Ryn said in horror. “Of course not!”

Xerxes squinted his eyes a little like he didn’t believe her. After a moment, he said, “Fine.” He took in a deep breath and released it, glancing to the Folke trailing into the palace. “Don’t go outside the palace walls, Maiden. I thought I warned you that your guardswoman would pay the price if you did.”

Ryn raised both hands. “I wasn’t escaping! It was for my charity work.”

His mouth went thin at the corners again. “You chose charity workoutsidethe palace? I’ll have you switched to something else.”

“No!” Ryn released a breath and reached for him. “Please. I want to stay with the First Temple.”

Xerxes stared at her. He glanced down at where she clutched the sleeves of his royal coat. Ryn dropped her hands and clasped them in front of her again, wondering if the nearby servants were scowling at her all over again.

Heva appeared at the entrance panting and with flushed cheeks, so Ryn dipped into a strange curtsy.

“Farewell, Your Majesty,” she said. She turned and fled toward Heva.

But the King’s deep voice followed her. “Don’t you know it’s a crime to depart from the King’s presence before you’ve been dismissed?” he said, and Ryn’s feet came together. Even though the King’s tone was calm, maids in the atrium inhaled. A few pointed, and Ryn wished she’d thought to pull her hood back up before she came inside.

She released a breath through her nose. How much more absurd could the rules in this palace get? No leaving, no Adriels, no self-dismissing from the King.

“So then chase me down and put me in prison, Your Majesty,” she invited, keeping her back to him. It came out with a sweet touch of sarcasm. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be much different than this.” She twirled a finger through the air at the palace where he knew full well she was being forced to endure as a Heartstealer. She carried on and fell into step beside Heva.

A second later, the King’s laughter lifted through the atrium behind her.

12

BELORME

Citizens of Per-Siana milled about in the city below, pulling out their coin purses to make trades, stepping into the vast collection of temples lining the roads to pray and offer tribute, and gossiping with their neighbours as they strolled in pairs. Belorme watched them from the balcony off the Intelligentsia’s Room of Knowledge. He watched how they chased their desires, went about their little hobbies, and made every choice of their day based on their fears. The fear of going hungry. The fear ofgrowing ill. The fear of being harmed. The fear of losing their family.

Belorme had once thought that way. He’d spent most of his life serving a king who swung fear around like a sword—right up until the day he died. Day in and day out, those dwelling in the palace had served the late King with every ounce of their devotion. King Draco had been a king chosen and blessed by the Celestial Divinities, a king who all believed would be a ruthless conqueror in his years and expand the borders of Per-Siana. A king the people believed would take back the sacred desert lands stolen by B’rei Mira a hundred years ago. There were prophecies about it. Even the Intelligentsia had been convinced.

But the late King was rash. The King made one terrible mistake in the last years of his reign that had cost him the legendary life the kingdom had anticipated.

Belorme could still taste the tension in the air from that day. He could still feel the sweat on his flesh from nerves even now, as if he was back standing before the whole council, placed there by King Draco. He could still hear the King’s condescending words,“What have you done, Belorme? How could you be so foolish?”

Foolish?

Belorme had served the King faithfully at his side, had even raised his son. He’d been family, and still, the King dragged him out in public and made a scene, blaming Belorme for mixing the wrong remedy for Xerxes’s morning medicine. Many of the magic brews and medicines had been switched around during the annual cleaning, and Xerxes’s medicine had been merged with a dreadful potion. And when magic is mixed with medicine, only terrible things happen. Terrible things like… an innocent young prince transforming into something beastly.

ButBelormehadn’t mixed the young Prince’s medicine.Belormehadn’t even been in the medicine cabinet that day. Itwas Damon—Belorme’s new apprentice at the time—who had made the medicine that morning.

Despite Belorme’s claims of innocence, the King had never believed him. And what a terrible thing—to speak the truth and not be believed.

That was the former King’s single greatest mistake.

It was also the reason Damon owed Belorme his life.