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So, the god remained in line with the humans. He would not attract attention to himself. Even if every time the red-headed man looked down his nose at the soldiers, the god’s skin itched, burned.
Unlike the rest of the men, Sebastian wore no helmet. Not that the captain had one to wear, for his helmet sat firmly on the god’s head. Sebastian had not addressed the missing helmet, only tipped his chin up in indifference when the soldiers looked at him.
From the little of what the god knew about the prince, the man seemed to relish any attention he could get. Even if the prince had his helmet, he would not have worn it, for how would he receive what he sought after if he was covered from head to toe in armor? If he was undistinguishable to anyone who looked upon him? No, Sebastian preferred to stand out from his men.
The man huffed in his cell, and his thoughts floated out.If it were Dani, she would have put her soldiers first. This man is no leader.
Nowthatthey could agree on. Sebastian was nothing short of a selfish, arrogant mortal.
Only easier to pick out from the crowd,the god said.
Sebastian sauntered down the line of men, occasionally stopping and stepping up to different soldiers. Sometimes, he commented on their scratched armor; sometimes, he said nothing. It was as if the man got off on seeing the men stand just an inch straighter when he approached.
The god sneered beneath the helmet.
As if that kind of power meant something.
The metal heel of Sebastian’s polished black boots clapped against the stone floors. Each step echoed in the exterior hall of the temple.
The god would have to wear this odious thing for two more hours. For two hours, he would have to wait in lines, stand at attention, and listen to the silly commands of the mortal.
Swallowing the groan inching in his throat, the god kept his gaze forward as Sebastian continued to make his way down the line.
A few paces away from the god, Sebastian stepped toward a soldier. He tugged on the armor covering the man’s shoulder, the metal clanking as the joints knocked into each other. The prince huffed, then continued.
When Sebastian stopped in front of the god, the god met the prince’s gaze through the slits. As Sebastian scanned the helmet, the god remained steady despite the panic rising in the back of his mind. The god quickly shoved the man’s thoughts aside, closing the window of the cell. He did not need any of the man’s worries seeping out.
Sebastian squinted at the metal helmet. They had checked for any unique markings on the black metal, but nothing seemed unique about it. No name or jewels marked it. Unlike the king’s helmet that night, there were no rubies in the dragon’s eyes. It was the same as every other soldier’s helmet in the line. Was there some marking on the helmet that Danisinia had missed when she had examined it? Did the Frenzian know it belonged to him?
Sebastian’s gaze continued to sweep over Graeson. It was a look meant to strike fear in his subordinates, yet the god remained steadfast. The god had no reason to fear him, for victory was at his fingertips.
And the blood of this mortal man was even closer. He could almost taste the prince’s death.
As the god stared back, he couldn’t help but smirk, satisfied with what he saw.
The prince couldn’t even wear his bruises and scars with honor. He had to hide them away and cover them up with powder.
From the encounter with Sebastian, only the god’s knuckles brandished a visible sign of the fight where the skin was slightly discolored. The bruises would fade in a few days. The memory, however, would not. The man inside might have thought he was a monster, but at least he owned every scar on his body. No matter how faded or fresh, each scar was a reminder of what he had done.
Dampness coated the back of the god’s neck as Sebastian continued to stare at him, although not from fear. The sun beat down on him, heating the metal armor and practically cooking him from the inside. Yesterday’s storm did little to diminish the humidity.
Sebastian raised a hand, bringing it to the helmet, and the god bit back the snarl rising to the surface. He flicked the metal. “Clean your helmet, soldier, before you are in the king’s presence.”
King. What are kings to gods?he thought.
He doesn’t know who you are,the man inside said.
Internally, the god snorted.Whoweare, little human.
I amnotyou,the man spat.
Yet.
When Sebastian raised a brow, the god swallowed his pride with an eye roll and mumbled, “Yes,sir.”
Sebastian crossed his arms over his chest, then flicked his hand in the air. “Now, soldier.”
The god lifted the helmet off his head.
