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“Meiro is good at her job,” said the woman, answering her thoughts as she stepped farther into the room. “She was selected because she will make your interests her interests.”
Naya schooled her expression. “My greatest interest is to return to my Land. I’m sure she won’t do that for me.”
She clasped her hands behind her. “You made an agreement with the zmola. He will hold himself to his word and hold you to yours.”
“I didn’t make that agreement willingly.”
“It was still an agreement, willing or not.” The woman pulled out strips of the dark red material. “You are expected to wear these when you are not in this room. Come here.”
Naya stared at it, almost recoiling when she recognized the color. Every inch of her wanted to scream, to fight this woman and run as far as possible at the idea of having those bands on her again.
“Without these, you will be chained,” the woman added.
Naya nodded, masking her expression. Wiping her palms on her outfit, she walked to her. The woman carefully wrapped her forearms from her wrist to her elbow and then wrapped her neck.
Naya clenched her teeth, the horrible feel of the textured material making her want to retch. Suddenly, she was trapped again in the tent, unable to move and in so much pain. She pulled in a slow, deep breath. No, she wasn’t in the tent, and she wasn’t trapped against the wall. She could move freely, at least she could right now, and that was better than wearing chains.
Finally the woman finished and stepped back. “Follow me,” she said.
Outside the room four guards were stationed in the quiet corridor. Two of them held long spears, while the others had daggers. Naya followed her guide, navigated through several corridors, each one busier than the last, until the palace felt busy and alive.
Less moody and sultry than the night before, daylight brightened every corridor. Wall panels showcased stunning art, and the warm colors complemented the beautiful woven rugs and the earthy colors of the building.
Many men and women wore the same layered plain-colored tunic as Meiro, and Naya guessed they were all aides or servants. Guards stood at the end of each corridor, uniformed in similar outfits to her guide rather than the ones outside of her room.
“What’s your name? Naya asked, as they started up another flight of stairs.
“You don’t need it.”
Naya frowned. Before she had a chance to ask why, the woman paused outside a huge door and looked her over. Satisfied, she pushed the door open.
Inside was a vast room painted in patterns of red, yellow, and blue, drawing the eye to a dramatic battle scene on the far wall. Thick pillars sat between several ceiling to floor lattice windows that softened the glow of the afternoon sun in the space. In front of each pillar, gleaming weaponry was displayed with pride, including some pieces she had never seen before.
The focal point of the room was a large wooden table at its center, edged with an intricate swirling pattern that matched the surrounding chairs. Behind it, large maps on stands depicted each of the three Known Lands, each map showcasing a different continent.
Several people stood inside, most in conversation leaning over a table or looking at the maps, but they went silent when she entered. Naya swallowed, her eyes sweeping the room once more. This was their battle planning room. Her father had one, though he rarely used it anymore. He and his commander and generals used to plan strategies of attack, sometimes spending weeks or months in there.
Naya walked slowly to the nearest map, a horrid gnawing in her stomach. There were no maps created in this size in the Known Lands. These had to have been hand drawn. How did they even get them? Why did they have all three Lands and not just the Lox Empire? Were they planning attacks on everyone? And more importantly, had they kidnapped anyone else from the other Lands? Her mind immediately went to Kaari.
A throat cleared, interrupting her thoughts. Naya turned, dragging her eyes away from the maps.
Three men and two women other than her guide were in the room. Although they didn’t all dress the same, there was a formality to their clothing. Two of the men wore leather and weaponry like her guide, while one woman was dressed completely in red fabrics. The only person dressed neutrally was someone she recognized—the stout healer from the desert.
At the sight of him, she instantly recognized the others. They were the same group that she’d seen walking with the beast. They were dressed more formally than they had been in the desert. The guide who’d brought her to the room had also been in the desert, but Naya hadn’t recognized her in her new clothes.
As a group they exuded power and strength, even without the beast in the room. It wasn’t just their weapons or the more formal clothing—something about the way they stood and looked at her gave Naya the impression they were used to being in control and getting their own way. They had to be his generals or important advisers.
None of them looked pleased she was there. Even the healer looked uncomfortable.
“Good afternoon,” she said to the room. They all tensed. “I’m Princess Nayara Andaus, first daughter of Drocco and Cailyn Andaus, heir to the Lox Empire, Guardian of Omegas, Keeper of Peace.”
Something in the air changed. The group’s demeanor shifted, and a voice came from behind her. Deep, strong. “Your titles are not relevant to our discussions. Tell us about these maps.”
Naya turned and astonishment jolted through her, curling into a sweet quiver in the pit of her stomach. He seemed bigger than she remembered, easily bigger than the other Alphas in the room. Even though he stood just inside the doorway, several feet from her, he felt too close.
Like everyone else, his attire had changed too. He wore an array of mixed fabrics in shades of reds, browns, and whites, complementing his bronze complexion, but the cut of his clothing was more severe, which along with the gold accents and crisscross pattern at the edges, made him look formidable and striking and regal.
The hair on his face had been trimmed, revealing a full, set mouth and firm jaw. The intensity of his dark eyes remained the same, but his expression was colder; closed and stern. The only wild thing left from the man in the desert was his hair and even that had been wrangled back, showing more of his face. And that was unfortunate because he was incredibly handsome.
