Chapter 45

I nearly burst from the sheets, but the mounting pain reminds me why I should not.

I yield, falling back down. "This cannot be..."

"It is, little sister," she says, expanding her arms exaggeratedly. "Behold, for I am truly here." She looks at me and all the melodrama drains from her expression as her arms deflate back to her sides. "By the grace of the Almighty," she breathes with unrestrained shock. "You look worse than I thought."

I fake a smile. "Why thank you."

"No, it is truly painful to look at you. I can almost feel your agony, every bit of your suffering."

I shake my head, then I nod her over. "Come here already!"

A smile spreads on her face as she scurries over. She plops down on the bed. It barely dips, and she flings her arms around me. Though it hurts, I do not care. I hug her back, holding onto her as tightly as I can, fearing that this is all a figment of my imagination, that it is all a dream. One I will soon wake from, and she will just melt from my embrace.

"Is it truly you?" I say into the sleeve of her dress, words muffled.

"Yes, it is." She draws back so that she can look at me properly.

There's not an ounce of pity in her eyes.

My mind fills with a thousand questions. "Well, are you going to tell me how and why you are here?"

She flashes me with a smile that I have missed too many times to count. "Apparently it is called a respite. A recess interval in the Vasilias Imperii. Even though the High King authored new tests, he still abides by the written regulations. Including the respite. A halfway point where candidates can meet with relatives and loved ones alike."

A halfway point.

"Word was sent tides ago. The High King had this planned very methodically. They sent a carriage and I boarded one of His Majesty's royal airships, the epitome of luxury, where I spent my time travelling with the relatives of the other candidates." She frees a tortured groan. "The Eilos sisters. Markiveus's siblings. I nearly threw myself overboard on multiple occasions."

A sudden thrill invigorates me. "Father, are they both here, mother and father?"

Seliah's face is aglow. Then something grim causes it to dim. "We shall circle back to that, but first we have important things to discuss."

I dreamed of my Regnum, my family, my sister, and now she's right before me. And it's like not a second of time has elapsed since I first departed.

"First. Why is the dashing, Herem Vince bringing you a bowl of soup?" she asks and flicks her finger at it.

"Because he made it for me, it's actually quite divine," I answer truthfully.

Her brows draw together as her eyes widen. "You mean to tell me that he made you that—" she points at it again, "—bowl of awfully, wonderful-smelling soup. He was the creator?" She nods, stands, then walks forward to pick up the bowl.

"What are you doing?"

She troubles me with her innocent smile. "Something that you should have done." She moves past the bed and out of my vision.

"Seliah..."

I hear a pane of the glass window opening.

She returns. The contents of the bowl have vanished.

"Are you mad?" She is fortunate I am too weak to leave this bed without assistance. "This residence is part of the Xercra Aelemond's palace! You cannot chuck out steaming broth from a window like we are in a peasant village, emptying our buckets unto the pathways like vile animals."

Anger distorts her delicate features. "And did you learn nothing from either me or father?" Lines forming between her brows. "How could you be so imprudent? Why are you eating anything that your rival hands you? He could be poisoning you!"

I swat her accusation away with a flap of my hand. "Ridiculous, you know nothing of him—"

"I know enough," she yells with pent-up outrage. "He is your rival. No amount of kind words, generous offers, or amiable gestures will change that. Or is my delirious sister love-stricken, unable to see things for what they are. Has that dulled your wit?"

Anger froths in my core. "I am not love-stricken." I cringe at the thought. "He just...would not do that. He would not defeat me like that."

"And what honourable way of defeat will he exploit?"

"He would not harm me!"

Seliah's eyes narrow at the bite in my tenor.

I inhale a calming breath, as stunned as she is at my anger. "I am not ignorant; I know there will come a time where Vince will have to choose between me or victory. And he will choose victory as any candidate should. But he would never harm me without cause."

"Without cause?" she repeats with a humourless laugh. "How about being crowned High King? That is the cause. Why battle your rivals when you can slay them with a harmless-looking soup?"

"He has honour," I say to his defence.

"He is an Emikrollian. An Ethane. They lack honour, but their hunger for power and war abounds. That is the only two things that they know."

I want to throw something at her.

"He saved me!" I say with unthought fervour. "More than once, he saved me. At the Blood Games, if you have heard. They forced the Herems and I to take part and that it is why I appear, too painful to look at."

She winces at my words.

"I fought a gladiator and lived. I fought in the Quarter Sage and I only lived because of Vince. I was nearly cut down, but he saved me. Again. He salvaged my life, and I am in his debt, one that I will not repay during the Trials. But I will give him the benefit of the doubt that he is not some callous savage." Poorly caged emotions simmer beneath the surface. "He could have easily allowed them to slay me but he did not. If he was so power-hungry and desperately sought an advantage. He would have allowed me to fall. But he did not, and I will hear nothing of it. No more."

"You may not love him, but you certainly care for him," she mutters under her breath.

"Seliah."

Ruefully, she folds her lips inwards and nods.

"Sister, I do not wish to fight. You are here. And I never thought you would be. You do not know how much I have missed you so. Your presence is a welcome distraction."

She looks back at me and smiles sadly. "Is that because of the affliction you faced in the Blood Games? I did not believe the High King would sanction such savagery but when the airship docked at the Lancia harbour. I heard rumours floating about. Tales of the moonflame-haired champion. Adalia the warrior is what they called her."

I will not take pride in such a sordid feat.

Seliah moves down and plops down on the foot. She kicks off her shoes and lifts her legs to cross them on the bed, leaning against one of the wooden poles of the canopy bed.

"Yes, the Blood Games were part of the test."

A glimmer of horror kindles in her eyes. "So you had to...in order to live...you had to..."

"Kill," I murmur.

Her hand cups over her mouth for a second. "Heavens, I am...you have my remorse. My strong and courageous. little sister."

I stare back at her wordlessly.

"Are you...alright?"

"No," I say outright. I will conceal nothing from my sister. Not that I would succeed anyway. "I am not. And I probably will not be for a while but in time, I will heal."

She nods slowly, a worry line etched on her forehead.

"Have you heard of the other Herems that perished?" I ask, and I name them, "Zekei, Tamani, and Rimnick. Three purebloods. The eldest sons, successors of their Regnums. I am certain that the Domuses are not content with the sudden and senseless deaths of their inheritors."

"Second thing I wanted to discuss," she points out. "Word of the respite was sent with a personalised letter from the High King, along with an undetailed mandate of the Vasilias Imperii. I am sure by now; they knew death would be imminent."

My gaze sinks. But I am still attentive, listening to every word she utters.

"As High King, I suppose he can execute anyone he wishes. But even a High King needs cause. I only heard of Rimnick. But that is probably because his father sent his Docent to check on his affairs in Sorcia in the last forttide."

She straightens and her sprawled fingers touch the sheets before it bounces again, gesticulating. "Regnum Salis in the Kingdom of Mela owns a chain of lavish inns and lodging houses, but supposedly the wealth of their holdings come from slave trade. In particular, funding the Blood Games with new fighters, but he did not know that...the purebloods were in participation until it was too late."

A frown crumples my forehead. "How did he send word so quickly?"

My frown releases. "Portal message."

She rewards me with a smile. "Now Regnum Salis wants to raise the dozen hells for the death of his eldest son. And when the other Domuses learn of Tamani and Zekei, they will want to join him. That is why father is not here, the Decuria are convening and mother is with him." She curls a lock behind her ear. "Tamani is from the Regnum that regulates the trade of both wood and builders that erect the Crown's armadas. Regnum Narcisse of the kingdom of Dawegelia owns the most profitable lands that supply grain to most of the cities in the wake of the Black Death. That is not just an advantage, that is power."

I see where she's getting to now.

"The Decuria is the Crown's source of power, wealth, soldiers, the economy and political stability are the functions that they control. To truly cripple the Crown, they would need to turn the Decuria against the current reign."

That statement seizes me. I shake it off, and say, "But would they risk a war against their High King?"

She shakes her head nonchalantly. "No, because even in the Shalem protocols state as there is one respite. It also sanctions death among the candidates. A regrettable fatality. Perhaps it makes sense, fierceness is a trait of a Ruler. I mean, they need to be decisive in distressing situations. They need to make difficult choices of slaying some to save all."

I suppose the logic is undeniable.

She tips her chin at me. "Once upon a time," she says in a regaling tone. "I recall a girl, many moons ago, who returned from a lesson with her archery master after she made her first kill. The rest of that day she languished and drifted like a tortured ghoul."

I suppose the term of innocence is relative.

"It turns out the girl mourned the ringerd she had slain. Now I wonder, if she was so tortured about an animal. How much more about the people she had to slay."

I clear my throat a few times, straining my lips into a reassuring smile. "With all love, my sister. I do not wish to speak of it. Not now. I simply want to concentrate on surviving."

She complies with an agreeing smile, then lifts a finger. "And the last and most important thing I must know."

My face is avid, I nod consent.

"Why is that the unbelievably handsome, but scary-looking Primus manes your door like a posted sentry?"

I didn't expect it, but it comes out.

A short series of snorts escape me until I release a full-blown guffaw.

Only Seliah, when all things look dire, bleak, or dismal. She can still make me laugh.

She snickers along cluelessly and lifts a shoulder. "What? Stop laughing and speak, woman!"

I wait until I tire myself, my laughs fading. "How long are you here for?"

Her grin wanes into a half-hearted smile. "Anchors up by dawn."

Disappointment halves my happiness. "Then, sister, you are to sleep here tonight. You are right. We have important things to discuss."

Her eyes shine with intrigue.

"Involving a certain Herem Solaris."