Chapter 24

He moves to meet me at the centre.

Each motion braced with fiend-like power.

He's armour-less, leaving only his regular burgundy uniform. All prestigious ornaments removed. Even without the armour, his powerful stature remains superior with those Spartan shoulders, every bulging muscle wrought from iron. The top part of his hair is tied in a loose bun, the rest free to reach the end of his neck. Idle strands of ink caress the sides of his face.

My heartbeat quickens, its rhythm catapulting into a frantic crescendo, my composure veering off into a mute frenzy.

"Your form has improved."

Groping for words, I string them together. "I think that's the first decent thing you have said to my face."

"I may possess the resolve to wield arms against our adversaries, yet that which I wish to say to you is a courage that eludes me."

I rotate to the side to turn my gaze ahead, pretending to view the ever-evolving scenery. The rising heat in my face scorches my cheeks with prickly singes, leaving me ragged with discomfort.

"How did you find me?"

"I was not looking for you... but I found you." I frown. A veiled depth to his words, layered by enigma. "I do not care how safe they claim the Citadel is. I will always make certain that those in my custody are well-guarded. Always."

His duty. Of course.

"When were you indentured?"

I jolt at the laugh that pushes itself out of me. "Indentured? Out of all your considerations, you assumed the reason I serve him is that I owe him a debt?"

"Why else would you serve that ruthless scoundrel?"

"Because it was of my own accord." I threw a quick glance at him. "He sought me out, but he offered me promises I couldn't afford to reject. Others depend on the Decuria to supply provisions, scraps to eek out a living. I wanted more for my kin. So, I gave him my allegiance, and I have never regretted it since."

"You said he sought you out. What did you do to merit his attention?"

"I seduced him," I say jokingly, turning my head to look up at him through my lashes with a teasing smile. "He was hosting a party, and I slipped in. I enticed him with a dance in front of all his men. He liked it so much that he sent his guards away. And had me dance for him privately."

By the swift look of me, you can tell I would never do such a thing. However, the mere thought of it makes his eyes appear darker than winter midnight. His stare is a force reckoned with the all-consuming void of the aether, powerful and penetrating, capable of unravelling the strongest resolve.

I make a fast verbal retreat.

"If you spar with me, perhaps I will tell you the real truth."

A sense of ease touches his rough-hewn features.

I step back, scanning the unrailed platform, unprotected from a fall of death with just one blunder. I rather take those odds. My eyes dart around his face, but never in those onyx eyes. Not again.

He prowls towards me with ominous intent. I move away until we start to circle each other, going round and round the square-shaped platform. Shadows shifting over our moving forms.

"You dare challenge me?"

I shrug innocently, observing him vigilantly. "I long for a worthy opponent. But in the absence of one, I shall have to settle for you."

He shakes his head reproachfully. A dread-inducing smirk cracks his stony mask. "You should know your place, Your Grace."

My jaw trembles and I clench it into stillness. Steeling my resolve. I do away with the swords before my fingers curl into ready fists. "Then put me in my place," I provoke.

His arm twitches—a bolt of black lightning—I narrowly evade the strike. I swivel around as we swap positions. In retaliation, my foot hits stomach. He barely flinches.

He glances down and flashes another deadly smirk.

We collide, executing a plenitude of expert moves. He muses my strikes and I endure his, studying his movements, analysing his fight pattern, and searching for his weaknesses. That's if he has any. However, I have noticed that he depends on his dominant right side, nevertheless; he is inarguably skilled. Most soldiers alike to his size, hinge on their strength, but Primus Kelan utilises both speed and agility. A formidable fighter.

I sweep beneath a kick, shooting up my forearms to block a jarring smack that shudders my bones. I can barely block his attacks before the next one comes. I unleash a barrage of punches and his body jerks from one direction to the other, in rhythm to the opposite line of each attack. Dodging with enviable speed.

Out facing him, I spin around with one fist outstretched, using the momentum generated to put force behind the resulting contact. He evades the tornado of fists. Amidst the clash of arms and legs, I catch glimpses of his bestial grin.

I leap, throwing two kicks mid-air, both of which he smacks away.

I launch a jab—he sidesteps—he seizes my wrist, yanking me towards him, spinning me around so my back crashes against his ironbound chest. Our bodies are dangerously close, the heat of our exertion surging with the galvanic current of something unspoken, a bridled power, fathomless alchemy. My arms jut up, and with his, he locks me in his iron grip, my arms crossed and squashed against my chest. A searing supernova explodes from within, scalding my skin where his touches mine in breath-stealing velocities.

I squirm to break free, but my efforts are as futile as my will to escape his hold.

"I must admit. I am impressed," he whispers. His words tumble down the back of my neck and the hair erects as every inch of my body tautens. His voice, deep and resonant, his praise echoing through me. "You are a commendable fighter."

My chest rises and falls steadily. My breathlessness goes beyond fatigue.

I can feel his heartbeat resonating through my skin, thundering with my own.

He frees a harsh exhale, and the heat of his breath makes my jaw clamp.

"You will tell me what I wish to know."

"Unhand me and I will."

He releases me and the intensity in his eyes our eyes lock tells me he knows exactly what I'm about to do. He moves closer, his movements more deliberate now, teetering the boundary of caution and curiosity. I can sense the change in his approach and feel the shift in the air between us. With a sudden surge of adrenaline, I launch myself at him, our bodies colliding before he has me ensnared in a tangle of limbs. I knew I would fail. I just didn't think it would be that fast.

"Some things alike to destiny are a fixed path. No matter the alternate course, you will always find yourself where you belong."

Gradually, the steel cage unlocks. I slip past and turn to face him again.

"Perhaps my ambitions are too high to hope for a day that you would choose to reveal your truths by choice and not coercion," he says. The measured mirth in his eyes is like a deep, dark abyss, gleaming like blackened waters under the moonlight, mysterious and enchanting.

Never so enchanting that I'd lose my wits over it.

His words are still seared into my head. His perception of me, and even if it has changed, mine never will.

"I don't know what game this is, but I'm not playing, Primus. All that exists between us is that you were my drillmaster. That is the only formality that I will respect."

His countenance is a mask of impenetrable stoicism, betraying no hint of the emotions that lay beneath. No flicker of emotion crosses his face, his demeanor as unyielding as a fortress wall, giving nothing away to any who seek to decipher his thoughts.

 "I will assess the full extent of your abilities next time, when I have returned. For the subsequent test, you will need to know more than combat."

"Next time?" I ask too optimistically.

"Yes, a... private tutoring."

I blink several times. "Wait... when you return? Where are you going?"

He folds his burly arms. "We need to procure horses and a new carousine for the next location. And I must ride out to the Avangard bastion up north, to request for more soldiers to be positioned along the journey at certain checkpoints."

"Why do you have to go personally?"

The corner of his plump lips draws to one side. "A summoning can only be done by one of my rank. I must demand an emergency council. The attack, and the emergence of this mysterious plague, all but confirm the return of the Ulris."

I nod slowly. "You think there is more to it?"

He nods grimly. "When the Vulkra attacked. It was a slaughter. They were too easily thwarted, and that concerns me. I think it was a plot to have us change our newly chartered route. I need to gauge the ambit of this looming peril. And have Avangard forces ready to obliterate their efforts and send them back into hiding."

I risk a glance. He clings to my gaze. I cannot escape it.

"I need to take half of my soldiers, but the rest will remain. Will..." he wavers, severing eye contact for a high-strung moment. Tension filling the crevice of silence. "Will you fare well in my absence?" The words shoot out like arrows from his mouth. The question is delivered in a straight shot.

Face to the ground, I say, "As you have witnessed. I can take care of myself."

We lapse into a fraught silence, strained by unsaid words.

I dare to glance back at him. An emotion flares in his gaze, too fast to identify.

"You have twilight eyes," he declares. He takes a silent moment to marvel them like he's beholding a summer sunrise. "First... they were soft, sweet green, like blades of grass glistening with dew after a gentle morning rain. But every time I look into them, they seem to vary into a profusion of hues."

I fling my gaze anywhere else.

"Each glance like a breath of spring, strong and full of life. He moves to tower over me. "Do I unsettle you? Does my presence cause you... discomfort?"

Studiously avoiding eye contact, I say, "Of course not," I blurt, fearing I would choke on the lie. "Why would it?"

"Then look at me."

My insides clench like a torqued in bow. "And what will that prove?"

"Nothing. For my own reassurance, I need to see you before I go. Spare me but one glance."

I brace myself, lifting my gaze until twilight meets with night. His mere gaze embraces me more tangibly than any pair of hands ever could. And I know; I accept that I will be forever lost in those two infinite black holes of his dark eyes is to surrender to a timeless abyss, where the boundaries of reality blur and only the intensity of his gaze remains. They are portals to a universe of mystery and depth, to be consumed by the void that is his soul.

I don't know what it is. But fate has forged something between us, as unseen and as palpable as wind, alike to the continuum of sky and sea. A tangible tether that strangely binds us together but also keeps us apart like a constant push and pull. The daunting awareness of one another... as if we had known each other in another life.

"Be safe for me, Aurora." My name like a knee-weakening caress. "I should return by the fourth noontide."

He observes me, his gaze piercing, overwhelming as it is insatiable. Then only after a few more beholding moments pass. He eventually rotates and draws back into the shadows. Our encounter thaws like a dream once one wakes.

I turn my gaze back to the scenery. Dawn arises, the orange brilliance unpeeling, first light unfurling across the sky. Not long after Primus Kelan left, us purebloods, are beckoned for breakfast at the same place as before in the palace, at the balcony. But this time Vince is nowhere to be found and his absence is all too prominent as his presence.

My mind vibrates with theories.

***

I sit at the vanity, inspecting my sharpened and polished blades, waiting on Green Earl Moray's summoning. The two thigh holsters and scabbards are positioned neatly alongside the daggers. I pick up the rare quillon dagger. My thumb runs up to the hilt, brushing against the handle.

The noontide sun shines through all the archways. Sunlight pours into the chambers like smelted gold. I glance back at the smiling reflection in the mirror. I spot a forest-green figure far behind me beside the open entrance.

I drop the dagger back down—it rattles a thud—I swivel around on the backless seat.

"Apologies, Hera," he says, bowing his head. "Green Earl Moray requests an audience with you."

A palace guard. That much is made clear by the intricate threads of his emerald uniform.

My eyes dart back at the daggers. It's clearly too late to take them with me.

I rise from the seat, smoothing out my skirt.

I follow the guard out of my chambers. A metre between us as we travel through the long, single corridor, out of the annex, crossing the bridges. A suspended network of paved plank wood, intersecting between the structures that surround the palace. Today there are noticeably fewer guards and more Terra aristocrats that gallivant amidst the foliage-adorned labyrinth.

A rough hand snatches my wrist—I whip around.

Rimnick.

"Hera Aurora," he says with mutual surprise. His voice is fashioned from inherent devilry. A certain malicious ring to his tenor that solidifies the impression that what he utters will either be callous or deceptive.

I wrench my hand from his. My periphery shrinks as I hone my vision on him solely. I hear the guard march towards me from behind. I toss up a halting hand. The marching stops.

"I have been deprived of the honour of having your audience."

The wind blows its breath in his dirty brown hair, sieved with darker fringes. The hair on the sides of his head is shaved, leaving all the tresses in the centre to cascade over his forehead. His hair parted up the middle.

"Such an honour is reserved for those who are deserving," I say, flashing him an insincere smile. "Herem."

Rimnick lets out a dark chuckle. It sparks a malevolent gleam in those vacuous eyes. A dreary brown, but I swear there's a red like a tint of blood that occupies the place where pupils should be. His face is ever engraved with a smug look, like there's something he knows that I do not.

"You have a sharp tongue," he says. "Be careful or you might see it cut."

I incline my head. "Did you stop me just to pass hollow threats?"

His smirk bursts into a grin; even full, it still looks cruel. "Only the opposite. I wanted to congratulate you and extol your humble efforts thus far. Even Green Earl Moray took a liking to you or..." His gaze trails over me, claiming a long, lingering once-over. "Other parts of you." Normally, when men look at me like that, it arouses my anger. When he does it, it makes me excruciatingly uncomfortable.

I look away immediately. "So, you've been watching me... I'm flattered," I say dryly.

Another dark chuckle. "Everyone is watching you, you are watching the others, and Duce Merian is watching us all. Somehow these idiotic tests, foreign excursions, diplomatic expeditions will somehow prove the worth of a king. So, if I have to play the part. I do not mind putting on a performance."

He takes a forbidding step closer, thinning the air around me. "As I am sure you have as well. I am certain you hide many tricks besides archery. Alas, the Trials will force them all out. Or perhaps." A deadened look shadows his face like the hood of a cowl. "One of us will."

He dips his torso forward into a mock bow, looking up at me haughtily. "Hera."

Rimnick lengthens back to full height and strides away in the opposite direction. His long-sleeved, floor-length jacket billows behind him. It must be some kind of morbid talent to turn a colour as warm and bright as yellow into something gloomy and portentous.

I rotate back around, motioning for the guard to continue.

I am led back into the glistening glass palace. Two levels up, I am ushered to another private balcony, similar in its aesthetic to where we dine. This private balcony, though relatively small, offers a spectacular view that stretches over the Citadel. From here, one can behold the grandeur of public edifices and the quaint charm of residential dwellings, all nestled amidst the colossal trees that wind their way up the landscape.

In the center of this intimate space sits a circular table, neither too grand nor too modest, perfectly sized to accommodate an assortment of choice foods atop its surface. Green Earl Moray sits at the one side with his back towards me. His sprawling antlers soak in the sunlight, each limb basking in the warm beams.

He's overseen by his own guards that wear similar clothes to him. Heavy, long-sleeved brown clothing with an emblem embossed into the material at their rear. A Ficus tree circled by a thick ring. I round the guards to stand at the other side of the table with a vacant seat that I assume is for me. Once I'm in his field of view, all four eyes broaden with excitement. He gestures expansively to me with an irregular-shaped glass of water in his one hand.

"Well, is it not my favourite candidate?" he says with a welcoming smile. "Please, sit and make yourself comfortable."

I nod gratefully, seating myself on the chair positioned to face the placid scenery.

"I'm honoured, only a day has passed and I'm already your favourite," I say. My gaze skims through the options on the table. An empty glass with a platter of both dark purple and luscious green fruits accompanies the large jar of water.

Moray snorts a laugh. His three-talon hand signals to the water with a flourish. His one guard reacts promptly and takes the jar of water, filling the empty glass beside it until the tip. Then he hands it to me.

I thank him with a smile. He returns to his post, both arms folded behind him.

"I prefer you over the others. All of them mouth platitudes, but even inebriated, I could see right through their disingenuousness. They reeked of vice." He brings the glass to his reedy lips and, with one inhale, gulps down half of its content. "Except for Herem Vince, he's a fine lad, that one. He has a glorious vision for this realm, what it can be rather than how it is."

My smile perseveres. "I can agree that it is wise to look to the future. And hopefully, I will be in yours." I take a sip of the water, but once the refreshing cold touches my tongue. A sip turns into a long draw, vacuuming more than half of the water.

"Hm," he hums thoughtfully. "Herem Dario presented me with a similar proposal. He owns mainly farmlands, but his holdings do include vineyards. And I know they are well taken care of since his Regnum is supplied with our very own earth globs."

I replenish my lungs with a deep inhale, placing the glass down beside me. "What sets The Merchant apart is not just the quality of wines, but unique access to vineyards and producers that others simply do not have. You see, The Merchant's maritime trade allows him to forge relationships with noblemen who own flourishing holdings with vineyards, ensuring that we have access to the finest grapes and the most exclusive vintages.

All four of his eyes set on me. "Access to such exclusive sources is indeed a compelling argument," he admits. "But what about price? I have other offers on the table, and I must ensure that I am getting the best deal possible."

"I understand your concerns, and I assure you, he is prepared to offer you a very competitive price. His extensive network of suppliers allows him to negotiate favorable terms, ensuring that you receive the finest wines at the best possible price."

He considers this for a moment. Finally, he nodded. "Very well, I am willing to entertain your offer. But I must insist on a trial shipment to ensure the quality of your wines meets my expectations."

I give him a whole-hearted smile, knowing that this was a small price to pay for securing such a lucrative deal. "Of course. I am confident that once you taste the quality of our wines, you will be eager to enter into a long and prosperous partnership."

"For an associate, you seem to know much about this merchant and his enterprise."

Suppressing my own smirk, I say, "It's good business to know about good business. And his is the best. There is a nobleman west of Dawegelia. Like many others, his produce has maintained health throughout the cycles without the need for earth globs. And he has been inventive over time, instead of isolating his harvest. He merged them."

I look back at him, and a smile of intrigue expands on his face.

I lift my bare leg from out of the slit, crossing it over the other. "You see, he found ordinary wine dull. So, he incorporated various fruits into the wine, wild berries, pinket, mulkap, and many others to create a medley of taste. With a sweet citrus zest to diminish the natural bitterness. Fresh bottles that come in many flavours."

If it's even possible. His smile stretches further. Moray shifts his torso to the one side, facing me. He rests his elbow on the head of his chair, the glass of water dangling from his hand. "I will send a representative to this merchant and scout to the holdings he has access to. If I am pleased by their report, I am more than eager to foster a new alliance with The Merchant. But to protect my interests, I will supply him with Cosian." Holding the glass, he lifts one talon to point it at me. "Earth globs are like fertilisers. Greatly enhanced to nourish the soils and promote faster and excellent plant growth. If the Black Death has reached that far in the realm, all the earth globs in the world will not aid you."

I lean back into my seat, twisting my shoulders to face him. "I assume Cosian can?"

He bobs a bouncy nod. "Cosian's magic is light as fine powder that will provide a layer of protection over any crop. Because this Black Death is most certainly being done by dark magic. Powerful as well, since it's claimed the lives of many farmlands from the time of your advent until now."

"I see that this peril threatens us all."

"I will arrange to send over all documentations to this merchant."

"He owns a fleet of ships scattered throughout Urium, but he hangs his hat in Armathis. With my inscription, so he knows this offer is true. I will give you the location of his primary ship."

Moray extends his arm, holding out the glass to me. I pick up my own to clink it with his in jubilee.

Moray glances over his shoulder and says, "Ulake lem tum vas norwa."

Shortly, one of his guards appears on my other plank and presents me with a wooden-like ring. I take it, looking back at Moray questioningly.

"To signify our newfound alliance," he enlightens. "It's a way to represent our union, but it doesn't limit you to only me. You may enlist other potential purchasers once I sample the first supply. I will personally endorse you to other Green Earls that are... like-minded to me."

I take a brief moment to study the ring. It's not wood per se, but it's like thin ropes of vines that form this crosswise look in the shape of an X. I slide it on my middle finger and seconds later it thaws into my skin, imprinting the patterned version of the ring as a tattoo; dark brown with two interwoven bands, and within them, it appears to be the design of his emblem. The same that both he and his guards bear.

"Uh..." I struggle off. My eyes locked on the permanent-looking tattoo. "Is this permanent?"

He nods casually. "It will endure as long as our alliance holds, if it succeeds your death. Then yes, it's permanent," he says with pure nonchalance.

Apparently, it must be a common custom to brand, or mark their partners with tattoos without their knowledge or even a simple warning. By the way, if it will concern you. Once you put on the ring it will morph into an everlasting tattoo, like we are now betrothed.

"It has been a pleasure, as always, Hera," he says and stares off into the distance. "If your merchant accepts, by the time you return, hopefully with a crown on your head. I will supply him with the first delivery."

"And you as well," I say. I rise from my seat, ready to depart. "I hope your scout delivers good news and if it does. May I ask if you inform me?"

He nods eagerly, whilst he speaks, I round the vacated seat.

"As you wish, and many good fortunes to you during the tournament at tomorrow's noontide. I hear this cycle will be a heart-stopper."

I break to a halt. I rotate my head to look back at him.

"What tournament?