Page 176 of Anathema
“Captain Zivant, have you had the pleasure of meeting Lady Anadara and Lady Sivarekis?” The way he emphasized the names struck me as odd.
“No.” In a clipped tone, the captain turned dismissively, but I caught his pale blue eyes staring out at me from the holes in his mask. He turned to the scribe beside him. “You wanted to speak with me about something?”
“Yes. Both you and Akmyrios. Privately, if possible.”
Anatolis bowed and smiled, before slipping away with the Magelord and captain down one of the nearby corridors.
Instincts told me to follow after them, for the possibility that he might divulge something to them about my world. Instead, Rykaia squealed beside me, snapping me of the temptation.
“It’s them! Circ’Lunae!” Again, one hard yank of my arm had me following after her, as she weaved through the crowd before coming to an abrupt stop.
A dark figure blocked our path, and a tremor of fear shook me as I peered up at angry eyes staring down at us through a full-sized mask, before said eyes slowly trailed up and down as he seemed to take in what I was wearing. He gripped both our arms, pulling us toward a corner of the room. “What in seven hells are you two doing here?” Fury burned in Zevander’s voice, and while it should’ve terrified me, I felt oddly titillated by it.
Rykaia sighed. “It was her idea.”
I snapped my gaze toward her, the mask nearly flying off my face.
“You know me, Brother. I’d have much preferred being locked away in that lifeless tomb of a castle all night. But she insisted.”
I scowled back at her, but Zevander clearly wasn’t convinced, as he released me to pull his sister further away.
“Have you lost your senses?” Though fainter than before, I could still make out their conversation over the hum of voices at my back. He glanced toward me, his gaze lingering a moment, before he turned back to her. “The Magestroli are looking for her, and worse, you waltzed her right up to the captain of the fucking Imperial Guard! What were you thinking, Rykaia!”
“They have no idea who she is! The captain held conversation with us, without a single interest in Maevyth.”
“They don’t play a game of the obvious.” The muffle of his deep, angry breaths bled through the mask on his face. “You will take her back to Eidolon now.”
“You know we can’t leave before the ceremony, Brother. Don’t be silly. The guards are watching everyone who comes and goes. It’ll draw more attention than if we stayed. No one leaves before The Becoming.”
He gripped her harder. “Then, you will leave after. And you will not go near another mage. Is that clear?”
With as furious as he seemed to be, I didn’t understand why Rykaia didn’t use the spell she’d taught me moments before.
“Yes. No more mingling with mages. Leave after the ceremony. Spend another wretchedly uneventful night at home. Got it.”
The spell, I mouthed, leaning to the side to get her attention, but she didn’t so much as spare me a glance, her angry eyes focused on her brother.
“If anything should happen to her, by gods, Rykaia …”
“Shouldn’t you be with the prince?”
He let out a growl and threw off her arm.
Anxious, I strode up to him, gathering my dress to keep from tripping with my brisk steps, and placed my hand on his shoulder, as I rose up to my toes.
His muscles tightened beneath my palm.
Rykaia lurched for me. “Maevyth, wait?—”
“Rapiuza’mej et rapellah’mej,” I whispered in his ear, as close as our masks would allow, and stepped back to observe, hoping I’d pronounced it correctly.
He shuddered and rolled his shoulders back. When he turned toward me, I glanced at Rykaia, who stood with her fingers pressed to her lips, as though trying to contain a smile. “Have you been drinking?” he asked, the question leaving me to wonder if I’d spoken the wrong words or forgotten them, entirely.
The heat of humiliation crawled over my cheeks, and I cleared my throat, taking another step back. “Nevermind.”
Not sparing him another minute, Rykaia sauntered toward me, swiping up my hand along the way, and tugged me to follow. Keeping my gaze on Zevander, who stared back at me, I turned to follow her, and noticed the bunching of his shoulders easing, his clenched hands loosening, his rage from moments ago unfurling.
Almost as if he’d caught sight of the scorpion dangling at my back. Or maybe I had spoken the words correctly, after all.