Page 133 of Daughter of the Dark Sea

“I like to make a show,” Barron replied. “Show everyone what happens if they dare to cross me. Fear is what keeps people in line. Fear is how you control others.”

Indeed, multiple courtiers lined the walls, and servants still cleaning up from the feast the previous evening. Their fearful eyes tracked her across the floor, and whispers floated across the grand room, echoing off the marble floors and stone walls.

“It’sher.”

“The adulterer.”

“She’s a whore.”

“She’s akiller.”

“The royal slut.”

“Filthypirate.”

Kora closed her eyes against the painful words. She’d been branded many things in her life, but losing her title as captain hurt the most. Tears tracked down her face, splashing onto the marble floor.

After the ballroom, they paraded her chained body through various rooms—offices, the throne room—which was divine—grand living chambers, the solar room and, eventually, an attached barracks overlooking the cliff. Her gauzes and cloths were so soaked through they trailed down her arms.

She hoped the blood loss would make her pass out soon. She couldn’t bear this any longer.

Multiple guards pivoted as they entered a large space—an indoor training ring. The ground was packed with dirt, and weapons lined the walls beneath large square windows. Dummies interspersed the room, along with wooden benches that guards and soldiers lounged upon, drinking from kegs.

A domed ceiling curved across the space, decorated with detailed paintings of the Galenite war. Pictures of death, destruction, and blood. The ground was littered with red splotches—blood, she realised.

“Men!” Garvan yelled.

Everyone stood to attention, their eyes ogling Kora’s chained, bleeding body.

“We have a traitor to the empire with us today.” Garvan gestured, and she whimpered at the sea of male gazes trained on her. Most were disgusted, some wereangry,and some were lustful—hungry. Those gazes made fear spike up her spine and her pulse race. “Make her feel welcome.”

They flaunted her down the centre of the training ring, and the soldiers leered, shouted, and spat. Sweat dripped from their lethally honed bodies, humidifying the air. Some even jabbed her sliced open shoulder and she howled in pain, her consciousness teetering on the edge, only to have blood-dried dirt thrown at her.

Throughout it all, she prayed to Thanos. The only god she’d welcome right now.

As they made it to the other end, shame and terror smothering her until she couldn’t breathe, her body screaming with agony, a slender figure leapt out, stopping the parade.

“Mr Di Largo,” Barron bemused.

Her heart lurched as she met golden-flecked hazel eyes. Aryn aimed his longbow, his hair tousled, and his muscles flexed as he nocked an arrow.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Barron smiled, signalling the soldiers surrounding them.

“No one harms my captain.”

“She’s not a captain anymore,” Garvan huffed.

“She is to me.”

Endless tears welled as Aryn cut Kora a hopeless look. All at once, he was young and old, his ancient voice soothed her, and a familiar scent of amber and cypress washed over her. He always appeared when she needed him, he alwaysknewwhen she was in trouble. As if . . . as if he were . . .

Kora’s eyes widened, her scar flaring as Barron ordered him to stand down. Was Aryn her mystery voice? Had it been him all along? How could she have been so blind?

“Aryn!”

Samuel shouldered through the crowd like the boulder he was. He halted at Kora, chained and shackled, and smothered in dirt, her shoulder gushing blood. His mouth settled into a grim line, and he placed one fisted hand in the other, subduing his rage. Her legs shook in terror for her crew. Samuel’s grey eyes slid from Barron to Aryn.

“Aryn . . . stand down.”