The prisoner rode Dante's horse, the younger girl deciding to ride with Ketil instead of being alone. She had stopped crying some time after the ordeal, but two days later, Ketil still saw the shock in her eyes. A part of him wanted to pity her, but the other part wanted to chastise her for hesitating in the ordeal to begin with.
He could have been killed—they all could have been killed had they underestimated the Inquisitors in town. Or townspeople with guns. Sometimes townspeople were worse than the Inquisition. The point was that they could have all died just because she refused to bloody her hands.
Inquisitors would never stop until they were all dead or under the thumb of the Tsar. Inquisitors saw no color, age, or gender—a riesun was a riesun and therefore fit to die.
Ketil shifted, holding tighter to the girl as he did so. She tensed up, grabbing onto a fistful of his coat as she leaned too far right. Ketil caught her with his arm, propping her up.
"Steady," he whispered and she nodded slowly, hair falling into her eyes.
Anubis looked back at the group as the trail opened up to reveal the gleaming hills of Dastberg. They were hills of marble and granite, gleaming white cliffs surrounding the domed palace at the pinnacle of the cliff. The light shining from its peaks turned the city in the valley into gold.
Ketil had been there as a child, both him and Aslaug. They were maybe twelve and learning the graces of politics. His father had placed a guard at his side at all times, not that Ketil realized how much danger he had been in at the time. If the Inquisition could have taken him, they would have killed him immediately—no matter his status. It would have been a much different death—this one permanent.
The memory still played in his mind, as if he was still in that palace with those people who were no longer the ones he knew.
"Father, why does Aslaug get to go into the meetings?"
"She is a leader, Ketil. There are leaders and there are followers, your sister is a leader."
"And what am I?"
A pause and sad smile. The old Emperor with his hair the color of snow only pressed his hand to the boy's cheek. "Why don't you go to the library and work on your Rajsend? Tsar Reznik has told me the Court's library leaves nothing to want."
"Father, I wish to go inside the court with Aslaug. I know the graces, I can speak the tongue—Aslaug can't even speak the tongue."
His icy eyes met the guard's. "Take him to the library, hold him there until I give word to release him."
An obedient nod.
"Father? This isn't because of my blo—"
The Emperor cut him off with a shake of his head. "Do not say what you are. The people of Rajsend are not as kind to batræ." Now he straightened his back. "Go to the library."
"Father, please!"
"As your Emperor—"
"Please don't send me away! Please, father!"
"—and your father, go." He thrust a hand out, pointing toward the hall. "Ketil Østberg, obey me."
A hand pressed against his shoulder. He didn't fight, just dropped his head, only pausing to look back at his father and sister.
Aslaug stood, eyes cast down and hands clenched into tight fists. She whispered to herself and his father rested a hand on her head, a proud smile pulling at his lips.
"Ketil?" Dante finally said and he looked down to see his hands gripping her arm. "You're hurting me."
He released his grip on her arm, looking down at the horse with a small sigh.
Aras un triæ.
"What?" She whispered and Ketil shook his head.
Had he spoken aloud?
"It's nothing," Ketil said quickly.
The prisoner looked back to the group, then to Anubis. "What's going on? Why are we stopping?"
Anubis turned her horse around, her eyes meeting Ketil's. "I will journey on into Dastberg. Raziel, if you would find lodging in the city for the others until I return."
Raziel shook his head. "I think it would be best if I go with you, Anubis. You don't know what they ask of you."
"I'm with Raziel." Ketil took a knife from his saddlebag. "You need us. They would be glad to be rid of you. Going in blind and alone is the worst thing you could do."
Anubis narrowed her eyes. "Actually, you are coming with me."
"The both of us?" Raziel said, eyebrows raised.
"No. Raziel, take care of the Order," Anubis said, her voice final. "Lord knows Dante can't do it."
The smaller girl let out a small whimper, lowering her head in shame.
Ketil held onto the girl's arm, raising his voice. "Anubis, that's not—"
The woman looked to Dante before finding Ketil's eyes. "You almost got yourself killed, you don't get a say in this."
It was the first thing she'd said about it.
"That's not fair, Anub—"
"I'm not in the business of being fair, you of all people should know that." She looked away, "Comtois, I should have never allowed you into the Order. You are obviously too immature to see that this is life and death. You have had one chance and you failed—do not give me another reason to doubt you."
She looked to Ketil, "now if you would come, we have an appointment to make."
Ketil looked to Dante, taking a deep breath as she raised her head. He smoothed her hair, whispering into her ear. "It's not your fault. She's just angry."
He dismounted, taking her in his arms like a child. He settled her on the back of Vasco's horse, looking up to the other man. "Ride carefully."
"Anything for the Prince," he bowed his head sarcastically, Dante tightly gripping around his middle. "When will you return?"
"Tomorrow." Anubis interrupted. "We will return tomorrow and if we don't..." she took a sack from her saddlebag, placing it in Raziel's hands. "This should be enough to get you away from this place. If we don't return, run and do not return to Kantloe as that place will be destroyed."
Vasco's eyes narrowed, "what are you dealing in?"
Ketil remounted his horse, driving the mare towards Anubis. "Hopefully you won't have to know," she gestured toward Ketil, their eyes meeting.
"Follow my lead," she whispered under her breath. "I don't want to see you dead."
Ketil smiled, "you've already seen me dead."
A slight twitch in her lips gave away her stifled smile, but she quickly brushed it off, motioning for Raziel to head into the city. He flashed her a worried look before grabbing the reigns of the prisoner to lead them both onto the sloping path into the valley.
Anubis shook her head, "anything of value in your bags?"
"I have some kips and a few knives, perhaps a revolver."
"Leave some of the money and maybe one knife, but the rest will be stolen if you leave them unattended. I know the Tsar's men and they are anything but honest."
"All royal guards are. One moment they are protecting you, the next they slice you open with a sword." He slipped a knife into his boot, adjusting his jacket as he leaned in his saddle.
"Ketil, I don't want to see you hurt. If anything terrible happens, run and tell the others."
"You worry too much. Come on, don't want to disappoint the king by being late." He drove his heels into his horse's flanks, following the pavers that led toward the palace.
~~~
Anubis and Ketil dismounted at the first gate, walking the horses to the thick stone walls. "Official business with the Tsar," she said as the first guard approached her, a few men with crossbows stood in turrets above them at the ready.
The guard reached to stop her and Anubis smiled, taking off her gloves with her teeth. She revealed the brand on her hand and he took a step back. "Let them through."
Anubis bowed sarcastically to him. "Thank you, fine citizen."
The gates opened into a large flat ground of perfectly manicured grass. "How is it so green in winter?" Ketil whispered as Anubis lifted her head to stare at a new iron and stone gate that stood in their path.
"The Tsar tends to keep a highly skilled group of gardeners, they happen to be riesun."
"We're only fit to live if our abilities can be exploited."
"Precisely." She raised her hand at another guard that approached them, silencing him with the one movement.
"Nice trick, why doesn't it work with Inquisitors?" Ketil whispered as the doors opened for them.
"Inquisitors are ignorant."
He shared a small wry smile with her as a few attendants took the horses from them, walking them towards a large stable.
"Now comes the tricky part," She whispered, walking across the white stone path.
Snow still lingered on the ground, white against red roses that crisscrossed the path. Servants in brown worked, bent at the waist, gathering snow from the grounds and the roses.
Ketil stooped, staring at the petals and inhaling their sweet perfume. "Strange time for these types of blooms."
Anubis grabbed his arm, "don't question things that aren't important."
Ketil nodded, standing to his full height to gawp at the the palace before them.
The steps leading to the palace were white marble with thick veins of deep red and gold streaking through the stone to curl into a vaguely rose-like shape. The steps led up to a veranda with enormous black pillars that held up a high roof. A few bulbous spires towered above them, red-suited guards standing at attention in turrets high above them. The golden dome that sat above the white marble building shone a blinding color in the midday sun, turning the light into gold.
"Act like you've done this before." Anubis said, grabbing his arm. "Don't show them weakness. As far as they know, you are a machine."
"I have learned the art—it's one lesson you don't forget." He straightened his posture, running his hands through his hair. "What are we getting ourselves into?"
"I don't think we even know the beginning." She let out a long exhale, lifting up her hand as a royal guard reached forward to stop her.
He stopped in his tracks, tilting his head in a small bow. Not a full bow, but it was a false respect. At least it hid his hatred.
"Insufferable guards," she muttered under her breath.
Ketil smiled, "oh I know all about that."
They shared a small look as the doors to the palace opened for them, leading to a large white hall. Pillars of marble lined the walls and the ceiling seemed to retreat endlessly into the sky.
He stared up as Anubis pulled him forward. "It's a palace, you have lived in one."
"Rajsend's architecture will never cease to fascinate me. Polaria is all angles and glass—but look at this place!" His voice echoed around them, a few guards standing at the sides of the room stiffening up as they walked past them.
"Domes and arches and the designs...!" he let out a low whistle. "I can't imagine in the days before the Riesun War when the styles of our countries combined. It must have been something betras. Incredible."
"Lower your voice," Anubis whispered. "I know the Tsar is aware that we have arrived and that you are with me, but I don't want him to know when to expect me. I want to make the old bastard sweat."
"Do you know how easy it would be to kill him?"
"Do you know how easy it would be a guard to slice me in two before I even stepped forward?" She brushed her hands along her skirt, hurrying down another hall.
The walls were lined with white velvet, every twelve feet a pillar of delightfully over grown roses. They were undoubtably roses grown with the help of a riesun. The petals were golden, spreading out to end in a crimson shade of red towards the center of the flower.
Riesun were only fit to serve the Tsar, and even then, it was only the ones he deemed useful or particularly enjoyed. Most were royals or bastard children of royals—the ones that held too much status to be recklessly killed, but were still of noble birth.
Ketil stared up at the ceiling where a grand fresco illustrated the birth of the Empire. From the tale of Lady Rejna who bravely defended the land from hordes of southern conquerors—a single gold rose blooming from her spilled blood, to the plague that caused the birth of the cursed riesun, the subsequent Riesun War, and the rise of the Reznik family.
Ketil let out a low whistle. "It's beautiful."
"It's a lie."
"It's a beautiful lie then."
There was a laugh and Ketil froze as Anubis tensed up. She took a deep breath, letting out a sigh.
"Mejst," came the curse in accented Rajsend. "If it isn't the royal bastard in the flesh."
The woman laughed again, standing from where she lounged against a velvet divan. She adjusted a waistband that carried one cutlass, a few ornate daggers, and one mahogany and gold inlaid revolver. She wore a small red amulet at her throat, the stone glistening in the reflected light. Her voice was polished, precise.
"Back again, Anubis?"
Ketil stared at this new woman, a sinking feeling of dread deep in his stomach. He lowered one eyebrow as she leaned against a pillar of roses, pricking her finger on a thorn.
"Darlam." Anubis' voice pitched with a bit of anger and she balled her hands into tight fists.
The woman smiled, tugging at her own tunic, the emblem of the House of Reznik sewn onto the left breast. When she smiled, a dark scar across her jaw moved, shadows concealing the entirety of the mark. "Oh little girl, you have so much to learn. You should not have returned." She fixed Ketil with a look, one that made him shift uncomfortably.
"And what is this?" She pressed a hand to Ketil's face and he took a step back. "Quite the Polarian beauty, isn't he?"
Anubis grabbed her gloved hand tightly. "Go away, I have business here."
"And I have business with you. Haven't seen your face in three years, what a time. There were rumors that you'd gotten yourself in quite a bit of trouble, rumors that no one settled." She straightened her posture, replacing the knife into her waistband. "But enough about rumors, I see you have found the executed Prince of Polaria. A riesun and a dead one at that."
Anubis pushed past her, but Darlam grabbed her hand. "How did you find him?"
Anubis shoved her away, grabbing Ketil's hand. "Come on."
Darlam crossed her arms, bowing sarcastically. "You are going to get yourself killed."
"Then that is my decision," Anubis pulled him into another hallway—this one he recognized from his few days spent trapped in this palace with his father.
He lowered his voice. "Who was she?"
"The Tsar's riesun protector—a bodyguard of sorts. Very powerful to regular people, harmless to our kind. Only riesun who have proven their loyalty can take the position and Remei Darlam fought her way from nobility to here. She deserves her place, but it doesn't make her any less of an ass."
Ketil touched his face, still feeling her cold fingers lingering against his cheek. "It seems she knows you well."
Anubis set her jaw, "there were days, years ago, when we were like family. Things change. Things change for the better. They were days spent battling for a place to live."
Anubis paused in front of a large golden door that stretched from the floor to the ceiling far above their heads. Ketil recognized the carvings from his previous visit, but still gasped at the work. There were small intricate lines, stretching from the bottom to the top, all of them combining to form an intricate rose in the center.
Anubis showed the mark on her hand as guards sidestepped in front of them.
"Who goes there?"
"You know me, you've been guarding the door to the throne room for fifteen years."
The man on the right eyed her. "Mistress Glazier? You are alive? There were rumors you died."
"I am quite obviously not dead. The Tsar summoned me."
He looked to Ketil, "and who's he?"
Ketil bowed a little, forgetting that it was not customary in Rajsend to bow to royal guards upon meeting. "Ketil Østberg."
"The Polarian Prince who died years ago?"
Anubis sighed. "I should not keep the Tsar waiting—this meeting is of the utmost importance."
He bowed his head slightly, "of course, Mistress Glazier."
He cleared his throat and the two guards opened the doors, following them inside. "Your Majesty," came a voice from behind them. "The Cursed Royal, Mistress Anubis Glazier and—." He paused as he thought of Ketil's distinction. "The former Prince of Polaria, Ketil Østberg."
Ketil lifted his head, staring at the ceiling and its line of golden arches that amplified the voices of those seated on the thrones. A chandelier gave the room an etherial glow, illuminating the marble statues of a woman in armor lining the sides of the room. Her statue was carved in multiple positions. One with a bouquet of roses in the crook of her arm, another kneeling with her head bowed and sword wedged into the earth, another standing and brandishing a longsword.
Lady Rejna, the creator of Rajsend legends and folklore. She was more than a queen or a founder to them, she was almost divine.
He bit the inside of his cheek, remembering the proper customs to approach a Tsar. He had learned them years ago, but his father made sure those practices would never be of any use.
Approach with your head lowered—not bowed, but eyes lowered.
He stared at the floor, and the mosaics below them.
Do not speak first.
Bow when you are about fifteen feet from the throne. Bow deeply and for a longer period of time.
Avoid eye-contact.
Ketil lifted his eyes enough to see Anubis staring at the throne and the men and women seated on the dais. Ketil elbowed her quickly and she gave him a look before returning her icy glare.
And then there were those who would never follow any rule just for spite.
His eyes wandered beyond his control, gawking helplessly. Tsar Raja Reznik sat on a black throne, streaks of red and gold brushed through the wood that curled up into what almost looked like wisps of smoke far above him. He shifted his position, anxious under Anubis' eyes.
Tsar Raja Reznik's power was dangerous and it showed. With his black hair cropped to his skull and dark eyes storming—always storming, he looked to be constantly preparing for battle. His eyebrows lifted as Anubis raised her head and marched forward. Beside him, the Tsarina Ziba Reznik clutched her throne's arm as if in pain. Ketil had once heard rumors that she suffered from a sickness in her bones, but only a riesun like Raziel could truly heal the disease. She would rather die than owe debt to a riesun. Her dark green eyes followed Anubis with an anger, pausing to stare at Ketil with a slightly shocked look.
Behind the Tsar stood a young man and behind the Tsarina a girl. The Crown Prince Mikhail and the Princess Valentina. Each one was almost a mirror image of the other. The Prince was perhaps five years older than his sister and maybe a year older than Anubis herself. The Princess kept her eyes firmly planted on Ketil, tracing out the lines in his face even as he desperately tried to shake the terrible feeling.
He needed to steal something. He shook his head slightly, no, he needed to focus. There would be time to steal later. Focus.
Anubis swooped into a curtsy, and Ketil followed in a low bow.
The Tsar nodded and Ketil straightened up, looking to Anubis who still curtseyed. She looked up to the Tsar with a wry smile.
"Hello father."
ns 15.158.61.20da2
