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“Well, Tarcus brings out the best in all of us, doesn’t he?”
Danae wrinkled her nose. “He’s despicable.”
A knock sounded at the door, and an older woman stuck her head inside. “Miss Pallas,” she said sharply, “to your room at once.”
Danae sighed. “Good luck today. Fill me in.”
“You’re not going to come with us today?”
“No. My father wants me kept hidden. I never get to wander around Carithian or go to the tournaments.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m used to it.”
Then, the girl headed out of her room. Kerrigan’s heart went out to her. Functionally, prisoner was more accurate than she’d guessed. He had brought Danae all the way here to watch over her, but not to let her see or do anything. Most people would have no idea she was a truthteller. What was he so afraid of?
She didn’t get to ask as the older woman came in and got her into another beautiful dress. She spent the next half hour on her hair and applying cosmetics. It was the first time since leaving Flavia’s presence that she felt like a pig being prepared for slaughter.
And it was only worth it to see Theo’s jaw unhinge at the sight of her. “My lady,” he said, dropping dramatically to one knee, “might I pledge my undying loyalty to you?”
Kerrigan laughed at him. “Did you not already?”
“You are a vision.” He pressed a kiss to her hand. “My heart, body, and soul belong in your keeping.”
Myron groaned behind him. “Can’t you keep it in your pants, Theo?”
Theo stood swiftly, ignoring Myron’s jab. He brought Kerrigan’s hand to his heart. “I will win this tournament in your name.”
“You’re not winning anything,” Myron grunted.
She couldn’t stop from laughing. “Oh, Theo.”
“Leave her be,” Constantine barked as he appeared in the main hall.
Theo released her with sad puppy-dog eyes and a forlorn reach for her, as if she were being swept away from him. He was truly as ridiculous as any man she had ever met. And she hoped he never changed.
“Well, I’m all dressed up,” she told Constantine as she stepped to his side. “Planning to show me off?”
“I don’t trust you here alone, so you’ll be coming with us to the tournament. I have to sign in my men. You’ll remain at my side the entire time. Do you understand?”
“Sure. Just what I’ve always wanted,” she said, her voice laced with sarcasm.
Constantine pursed his lips and strode out of the house. She followed in his wake and was surprised to find the horses hadn’t been brought out.
“We’re walking?”
“Is that a problem?” Constantine asked.
“But why? The city is dusty.”
“We’ll walk. It’s not far.”
She shrugged and fell into step next to him. It had been too late last night to appear as a spectacle before the people, but in the early morning, a full half of the street seemed to stop what they were doing to bow to her.
“Why do they act like that?” Kerrigan finally asked.
“You’ve seen a Doma. You understand.”
“No, I haven’t.”
He sniffed. “Well, for the better then. They’re terrible. Every last one of them.”
“You’ve met many?”
“Enough on the battlefield and in the negotiations after,” he acknowledged. “Plus, I’ve interacted with a few at parties since training gladiators. They don’t normally talk to someone lowly like me, but you get the general sense of them. People try to stay out of their way.”
“Are they all really terrible?”
He shrugged. “Who knows? The ones I’ve met seemed like any other man, if not more pompous. But the higher up you go, the worse they are. I’ve heard that to be in the presence of He Who Reigns is like being burned alive.”
Kerrigan stumbled on the name. “He Who Reigns?” she gasped.
Constantine looked at her carefully. “Surely, you’ve heard of him, eh?”
She swallowed hard. The name that reverberated through her skull. That haunted her nightmares. When she had met the original Fae, Titania, she had claimed that Kerrigan was a descendant of He Who Reigns. She’d asked her father about it, and he’d made her swear never to repeat the name. Until this moment, she hadn’t even given it much thought. Her mother was the priority. Her parentage beyond that hardly mattered.
Except descendant of He Who Reigns was starting to sound a lot scarier than she’d anticipated. Descendant of a god that burned people alive? That even Constantine had never met in person?
“He … he’s the leader?”
“I don’t know where you grew up, but I thought everyone knew about He Who Reigns,” Constantine said, his voice dipping to a whisper at the name. “He’s the king of the gods. We don’t even speak his name any longer.”
She gulped. “Right. I see.”
How could she be a descendant of a person like that? How could she be a descendant of a god … at all? That … that didn’t make any sense.
