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The rest was a blur of dark palace corridors, a door slamming, a cushioned bed draped in purple, and Razak, his hands on my chest, my neck. My thoughts whirled, as though I still danced somewhere far away… in a meadow full of flowers by the sea. I dreamed while awake, and danced in the flowers, until spotting a figure at the cliff’s edge overlooking the ocean.
I thought he might jump.
And that figure… was me.
CHAPTER19
Arin
A week turned into two,and while the wound in my side healed, those in my life did not. Ogden refused any further meetings. The only contact I had from any court was a representative of Justice, telling me no further action would be taken. I’d suffered enough. I was avictimof the Court of Pain’s unsanctioned attack, not their accomplice. And Draven had made no charges against me.
As for how they planned to retaliate, or if they sought to punish Razak—or Umair, King of Pain, if they could find him—I wasn’t told. As a prince without a court, without power, I was worthless.
There were no locks on my doors. I could leave any time I liked. All I had to do was walk out into the miles of desert sands and probably die there. I didn’t know which way was home, didn’t even know if there were roads beneath all that shifting sand. I might as well have been stranded on an island in an ocean.
Shutting me out was a mistake.
I knew Razak, knew him more than most. I could help determine what he wanted, and what his next move would be. His attack on Love’s court must have had a motive, besides madness. But all Ogden saw was weakness that Pain had taken advantage of. To him, it was justifiable. They cut out the weak, killed their wounded.
Ogden probably wished Draven had left me to die.
The warlord was the only respite I had from pacing my room or standing on the balcony, staring at shifting dunes. Almost daily, he came with a bottle of wine, and we’d drink until the sun set. Then he’d go off and do whatever he did in this enormous palace, preferring to work in the cooler evenings.
Today, he was late. The sun was already excruciatingly high, driving me inside, off the balcony. Draven didn’t seem to be like the rest of his kind, who appeared to be made of gruff snarls and blunt, three-word sentences. Or perhaps that was how they behaved around me, an outsider.
A knock sounded on the door. “Come in.”
Draven shoved open the door and propped himself against the frame, no bottle in his hand today. “A walk?” He’d tied his hair back into a thick, bushy tail, keeping it off his neck to keep him cool.
“By Dallin, yes. Anything to get out of this room.” With no need to collect a coat—one layer was too much in this heat—I strode out into the hall and welcomed Draven’s substantial presence beside me. We’d walked before. The palace was a sprawling maze of terraces and courtyards interconnected with long, arched tunnels, open at both sides to let the wind pass through. Walking with Draven seemed safer than on my own. Alone, I’d attracted all manner of peculiar looks for being blond-haired and slighter than anyone else.
“Does the heat ever let up?” I asked, plucking my damp shirt from my neck.
“Oh yes, it can get cold enough for Justice to feel right at home.”
Justice’s lands were well known for their dramatic ice-dusted fjords and snow-capped peaks.Ice in the desert?I snorted. “I don’t believe it.”
Draven’s dark eyes held a hint of humor. Was he jesting with me or being sincere? I couldn’t tell with him, although the rest of his kin seemed to speak their thoughts, so perhaps this desert frost was true too.
“Stay long enough, and you’ll see for yourself,” he added, quite proud of the fact.
We walked on, descending multiple outdoor stairs to a sunken oasis, protected from the heat by the towers and battlements of the palace itself. Several aquamarine pools trickled into each other, cascading down a waterfall before plunging back into the ground. It was a wonder the water didn’t evaporate the moment it bubbled up from its spring. Around the pools, decorative tiles depicted the desert dwellers in their stepped pyramids, armed for war. One such pyramid loomed off to one side of the palace, connected to the rest of the grounds by a long viaduct. I’d asked what it was, but all I could get out of anyone was how it was used during times of ceremony and all other times it was sealed.
A handful of people milled about around the pools. Walking for pleasure was not something the people of War did. Unless there happened to be an argument at their destination. They liked to argue. Or partake in “robust discussions” as Draven had corrected.
“I appreciate you spending time with me.” I shielded my eyes against the sun.
“It’s no trouble.” His voice still held a throaty rumble that wasn’t unpleasant.
He gestured for us to take a seat at the nearby bench, flanked by flowering cacti. Small birds buzzed from the bright red flowers, their wings moving so fast it was as though they hovered without them. The Court of War was a strange place. So very brutal, but beautiful with it, like a well-forged weapon, I supposed. Although this court’s savage beauty was no match for Love.
“Thinking of home?” Draven asked.
I sighed and leaned back on the bench, seeking relief in the shade. “I must learn to let it go.”
“Give it time.”
Time. Something I appeared to have a lot of, yet it slipped through my fingers, like the sands for miles in every direction. My people had perished. Without my court, our lands had fallen into chaos. Most people had fled and were now refugees. I wasn’t doing enough to help them, but what could I do if Ogden wouldn’t meet with me? “Any more time without a purpose and I might go mad,” I muttered.
