Page 74 of Daughter of the Drowned Empire

“Only a few minutes,” Aemon said sharply, quickly adding a “your highness,” before he left us alone with the Imperator.

I swallowed, desperately wanting to crawl out of my body. I waited for Rhyan to finish his adjustment, but he only stood before me, arms crossed.

“What is the first rule of being a soturion?” Rhyan practically growled the question. There was a kiss of his icy fury in the room as his aura swirled.

I blinked, trying to remember if that had been covered in the morning lectures I’d attended, but it hadn’t. Or I’d missed it with my exhaustion. My eyes swept from the Imperator back to Rhyan. Fuck. I’d certainly studied the basics of soturion training years ago. But I couldn’t pull the facts I needed from the recesses of my mind I knew they were hiding in. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” drawled the Imperator. “What ignorance.”

My hands curled into fists, but I willed them flat against my legs, my chest tightening.

Rhyan’s expression darkened, but he remained still. “Try again, novice.”

Had Aemon recently mentioned it in passing? I was wracking my brain for any scrap of memory, any lesson, or scroll. I knew the names of several important arkturi, and theorists on battle strategy. But I could feel the Imperator’s eyes on me and couldn’t think straight, couldn’t remember more than just a few names. Sweat ran down my neck. My heart thudded, remembering the Bastardmaker’s hands on me…on Jules.

“I don’t know the first rule,” I snapped. “That’s my answer.”

The Imperator made a sound of disapproval.

Rhyan turned. “Well?” He spread his arms wide. “Do you need to see anything else?”

“I need to see her answer the question.”

“She has answered. She doesn’t know. Can we entertain you some other way?”

The Imperator’s lips curled. “This falls on you, boy. If she doesn’t know the answer, you make her know it. If not, Ka Batavia will reevaluate why you’re here.” He nodded, dismissing us. “When I return, I expect her grace to know something. Her ignorance is embarrassing.”

Rhyan ran his fingers through his hair. He tried to curl some over his scar, but since his trim, it wasn’t long enough. “She will,” he muttered as the door closed.

My hands tightened into fists, fingernails cutting into my palms. “My ignorance. MY ignorance. How dare he! Ignorant fucking brute. I know everything there is to know about becoming a mage and the history of our people. I’ve read rare scrolls he’s never even heard of and can translate High Lumerian in my sleep.”

“So can I,” Rhyan shouted. He ran his hands down his neck, hands clasping behind him as he threw his head back. “It doesn’t matter!”

I stepped back, surprised at his outburst.

He exhaled sharply, the energy from his aura retreating. His hands fell to his sides. “I’m sorry.” He drew closer, shaking his head. “You know I think you’re brilliant, I do, but we’re in a new arena. The old rules don’t apply here.” His jaw tensed, nostrils flaring as his hands flexed at his sides. “He’s going to make it harder for both of us, isn’t he?”

Harder for both of us…. Gods. Rhyan must be miserable being paired with me. If I failed…he’d fail. He’d lose his new home and return to being forsworn. “I’m sorry you were matched with me. I’m putting you in danger with how terrible I’m performing.”

Rhyan folded his arms across his chest. “You’re performing fine for day one. Let me worry about my place here. You focus on yours.”

I stared, feeling the weight of both our places on my shoulders despite what he’d said.

“That’s an order.” His expression hardened. “You need to worry about you. I’ve been taking care of myself a long time. I’ll be fine. Agreed?”

I exhaled sharply. “Agreed.”

“Good.”

“Great,” I said. “And since it’s bound to come up again, what is the first rule of being a soturion?”

He looked thoughtful, tapping a finger against his chin. “I can tell you the answer, but you’ll learn better if you figure it out on your own.” He shrugged. “Take a guess.”

I swallowed, desperate to give the right answer. To ease his fears that I would not be his doom. To ease my own. But my mind was blank, and I could only call upon my small experiences so far. Which, beyond my morning lessons on anatomy and weapons, came down to the run and the Oath Ceremony.

“Is it…is it that we aren’t to have any sort of—that novices and apprentices aren’t allowed to fall in love?”

His expression darkened. “Why was that your first guess?”