“Where were the gods in this?” someone called.
The gods. I had no answer except, “The gods wept too.”
“What were the sisters’ names?” another called.
Though I wasn’t sure if he could hear me, I saw the Komizar’s shadow pass in his tower window.
“It grows dark,” I said. “Go home to your suppers. I’ll tell you more tomorrow.”
* * *
The room shivered with emptiness. I set about straightening the meager contents, still scattered from the guards’ riotous search for hidden weapons. They gave no thought to where they threw things. I longed for the company of the people in the square again. There was more I had wanted to say, and the solitude of the room allowed my doubts to creep back in.
I refolded the rumpled blankets and propped the practice swords back up against the wall. Impaled heads … the Assassin’s handiwork. Rafe’s remark was intentional, a warning for me. What had Kaden done? I remembered on my first day here that he had an urgent duty regarding soldiers he had to attend to, and his sharp refusal when I asked to go along. Was that where he had gone? To execute boys? The difference between children and adults didn’t seem to exist in Venda. Had he swung a sword with as little remorse as the Komizar showed this afternoon? I simply couldn’t believe it. They might both be Vendan, but they were as different as fire and water. I wondered what the condemned soldiers had done. Stolen food like the butcher? Starving is barbaric, Princess. I sat down on the bed. That was why they had no prisoners in Venda. Prisoners had to be fed.
Yet the Council seemed to lack nothing.
I had risen to pour water in the basin and wash up when I heard footsteps in the hall. A single thump shook the door and then the lock rattled.
It was Ulrix. He cracked the door only a few inches, just wide enough to say, “The Komizar wants you. Wear your purple. I’ll wait out here.”
He shut the door so I could change. It was too early for the evening meal in Sanctum Hall, and Calantha was always sent to get me. Or the Komizar himself banged on the door. Never Ulrix. Wear the purple. Another dress that showed off the kavah, made of scraps of soft buckskin dyed with thannis.
I took the folded dress from the pile on top of the chest and rubbed the soft leather between my fingers. Something isn’t right. But nothing had been right for so long, I wasn’t sure how one more worry mattered.
Ulrix didn’t take me to the Komizar’s private meeting chamber as I expected, and when I asked where we were going, he didn’t answer. He led me to a remote part of the Sanctum, down narrow curving stairs in a wing where I had never been. The stairs emptied into a large, round foyer barely lit with a single torch. There was one small recessed door and hallways on either side that vanished into darkness.
Before we reached the door, it opened, and a handful of quarterlords, chievdars, governors, and Rahtan filed out. This wasn’t the Council. Malich was among them, and while I expected a smug grin on his face, they all wore self-assured expressions as they walked past me. When they had disappeared in different directions down the hallways, Ulrix nudged me toward the room. “Go in.”
Only a hint of light came through the open doorway, a subdued golden flicker. The gods help me. I kissed my shaking fingers, lifted them to the air, and moved forward.
A small candle lit a table in the center, leaving the rest of the room cast in black. I saw the faint outline of the Komizar sitting in a chair, his boots propped on the table, leisurely watching me as I entered.
The door slammed shut behind me.
“You wore the purple,” he said. “Good.”
“How can you tell in the dark?”
I heard the gentle inhale of his breath. “I can tell.”
“You hold secret meetings in dark chambers now?”
“Greater plans call for greater privacy.”
“But not with the whole Council?”
“I’m the Komizar. I meet with whom I choose, where I choose.”
“So I see.”
“Come closer.”
I stepped forward until I was standing near him. He casually reached out and touched one of the loose scraps cascading from my dress.
“I have some good news for you, Princess. Something that will give you many more freedoms here in Venda. Your status is changing. You’re no longer to be a prisoner.” He smiled. The candlelight danced along his cheekbone, and his lashes cast a sharp shadow around his eyes.
My dress suddenly felt far too tight and the room sickly warm. “And how did I come by this good news?” I asked.