The duke had balding black hair and a sharp circular beard. He wore an immaculate black tux, corded with lunalines. His companion looked similar with the receding hairline and hawkish nose, but was clean-shaven, with spots of vitiligo doting his skin. Strangely, he wore a warden’s uniform, but Skye couldn’t recognize the sword-pin insignia he displayed.

  Skye returned into hiding, taking a deep breath.

  This was the leader of the city, the commander of the constables and the wardens, and the owner of the illusive and long-sought Duke’s Road. A man known for his punctuality, precision, and power.

  While Skye had rummaged through the man’s possessions, he’d never gotten anywhere near him due to the heavy security. Patiently, he waited, hoping they’d discuss the upcoming event at the royal palace. But unlike the barons, the duke and his companion weren’t so chatty.

  He sighed, wondering whether his time would be better spent near the barons when a new pair of feet joined the table. The sight of the smooth feminine legs peeking from under a blue dress flushed Skye’s face with heat, and he had to crawl away, heart hammering, when she sat beside him.

  “Sorry I’m late, father,” the lady said in a sweet voice. “Rema was showing me her imported gems collection. She’s got a few we don’t have in Troqua! Can you believe it?”

  Father?

  Were these Duchess Cleora’s feet?

  He jumped, smacking his head on the underside of the table, startling those around. A glass spilled down the side of the table, staining the tablecloth red, and he activated his curse to clean it.

  Rubbing his head, he yanked his gaze away from her crystalline heels. He wasn’t a peeper like Dray or Billiam. And he won’t be able to focus on the conversation with so much blood rushing to his face. Turning around, he did his breathing exercises.

  “You missed the reception,” Duke Hishtem said, not a reprimand, merely a remark.

  “I’ll try to be more punctual, father,” Duchess Cleora said, not an apology, simply a statement.

  “Hello, niece,” the duke’s companion said in a nasal voice. “That’s a lovely dress you’re wearing. All that’s missing is your beautiful smile.”

  Skye frowned. He didn’t know the duke had a brother. What did that make the man… a prince?

  The duchess seemed to shrink under the compliment. “Hello Emery.”

  A troop of waiters arrived driving floating dining carts laden with delicious-smelling dishes. They left after filling the table, the thanks of the duchess sending them off.

  “Goodness, this palace is beautiful,” Duchess Cleora sighed. “Does it not remind you of the Alegnian style of decor, father?”

  Alegnian? Skye didn’t recognize the word. It couldn’t be a place; he’d memorized the map and there wasn’t a city or region by that name. But his maps only covered their kingdom of Gadria and its surroundings, and these people…

  He gasped audibly, then slapped a hand over his mouth and cast his curse.

  These three around him had left Troqua. They had lived his dream. Seen the outside world. What they have was all he ever wanted in life. He considered popping out and asking where they’d been, what they’d seen, and heard, and tasted. He wanted to know how he would feel when it was finally his turn to leave.

  But the wardens were close, and this family had kept their secrets hidden for hundreds of years. This wasn’t the type of mystery that was given. It had to be taken.

  “Mind your vocabulary, daughter. Don’t trigger unwanted questions,” Duke Hishtem reprimanded.

  “Yes, father,” Duchess Cleora said in a similar cold tone.

  A new symphony began as spoons and forks clanked against porcelain. The air was filled with the aroma of garlic, thyme, and spices Skye couldn’t name. He wiped the drool from his chin, clutching his empty stomach.

  “Look at these fools. Since when do Troqueans celebrate on the surface?” the duke said, his voice barely audible under the music. “They knew I would never approve. So they waited for my absence to organize this farce.” There was a pause followed by the clanking of silverware. “It’s like they want to be massacred by elexii.”

  “Don’t name the monsters aloud, father,” Cleora whispered. “They don’t like hearing it spoken.”

  “Spare me the nonsense,” the duke said, speaking around a mouthful. “You’re soft, like your mother. This is all her fault, by the way. Rullana used to encourage them to ‘come above and see the beautiful sky’. And now, they’re so brazen they build mansions up here, the brainless oafs.”

  Skye couldn’t tolerate the smell anymore. He poked out from his hiding next to the duchess and met her eyes momentarily. She was like the sun looking down at him with surprised honey-dyed eyes. She jumped away scrapping her chair, gasping, her blond curls bouncing, but it was Emery who shrieked, alerting the wardens.

  “Don’t mind if I do!” Skye said as he pulled the duke’s plate and retreated under the table to cast his curse. Hungrily, he devoured the creamy slices of venison within seconds then licked his fingers clean.

  “And since when do we have this many merchants in Troqua?” the duke sneered. “Now some dare call themselves barons, bah! What use does the city have for these self-serving, spoiled brats?”

  Cleora cleared her throat. “The merchants’ guild organizes the city’s trade, father. And they coordinate with the miners’ and artisans’ guilds. Troqua needs them.”

  “Nonsense! Troqua existed long before any guilds and it’ll exist long after they’re gone,” the duke said. “Which reminds me, how are the party preparations going?”

  Skye perked up. A party? This had to be what Dray was after.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “They’re going splendid, my duke,” Emery said. “The gifts are coming along quite nicely.”

  “Good, good. I’d like to inspect them personally before the event,” the duke said.

  “How about you, dear Cleora? Don’t you want to see your gifts?” Emery said. “Do you have any special requests? It’s your party after all.”

  Cleora shifted in her seat, slouching forward. She tapped some utensil on her plate, clanking softly. “Oh, so now I have a saying in all of this?”

  Before anyone could answer, a warden approached and placed something in front of the duchess. Then instead of leaving, he sat at the table across from her.

  Cleora straightened her posture. “What’s this?”

  “A gift,” the warden said as waiters rushed to arrange plates and dishes before him. “Open it.”

  Something clicked, then a white brilliance soaked Cleora’s side of the table. Skye had half a mind to peek out, but he dared not move with a warden this close.

  “That’s a lovely ring, Akunai,” the duke said. “Thank him, daughter.”

  Skye retreated away from the warden’s legs. This wasn’t any warden; this was Chief Warden Akunai Kasi, the strongest channeler in Troqua.

  Something clattered to the ground behind the duchess and Skye summoned his bell in panic. It was a black box containing a ring adorned with chromatic gemstones. It called to him, stealing his breath, and he couldn’t but crawl toward it. Then a warden intervened, picking it up, and handed it to Emery.

  Skye breathed at last. He’d never seen a stone so mind-numbingly beautiful. He shook his head, regaining his composure.

  “An oneirolian stone!” Emery said with awe, turning it around. “We’ve yet to see a cache of these in our mines. How did you get this?”

  “Nothing is expensive for my dear Cleora,” the chief said, voice cool.

  “Cleo, you must apologize,” the duke said calmly. “This is no way to treat your future husband.”

  Skye gaped at the word. Husband? This was huge news indeed. Troqua hadn’t seen a royal wedding in over thirty years.

  “He should apologize, not me,” Cleora replied sharply. “And you as well, father. It’s because of you that he takes me for granted. I won’t accept being proposed to in such a lowly manner.”

  “This isn’t an engagement ring, it’s merely a gift,” Chief Akunai said.

  “There’s an etiquette for the presenting of gifts. And throwing jewelry on the dining table is uncouth,” the duchess retorted.

  “Stop this, Cleo. It’s undignified,” the duke said. He took the ring, placing it before her. “Take it, wear it, and thank Akunai.”

  “Why am I being scolded?” Cleora replied, her voice cracking. “Didn’t you want to keep this arrangement secret until your announcement?”

  “Cleo…” the duke called, patience fraying. “We have discussed this, many times over. Do not make a scene.”

  “If he’s treating me like this before our marriage, how will he treat me after? I don’t accept it, father. I won’t be forced into a marriage with someone who doesn’t respect me. I won’t-”

  The duke slammed the table, rattling tableware and spilling drinks. Skye stiffened, listening carefully; Dray would love to hear this.

  “That’s enough, you insolent child!” the duke snapped. The singer performed louder; the rhythm of the music intensified. He sighed deeply, regaining his composure. “Listen to me, my love. Do you know why the Neashures are throwing this party in our honor?”

  There was a pause. Then Cleora replied. “People throw us parties all the time.”

  “Not this brash and pompous, no. And never on the surface,” the duke said calmly. “Has Remalea mentioned her brother to you?”

  “Yes, she wouldn’t shut up about him actually. Galec did this, Galec bought that. I thought it weird and annoying.”

  “The Neashures are arranging a marriage proposal between you and Galec. All of this… circus is a ploy to impress you,” the duke said. “And he’s not the only one in Troqua who’s got their eyes on your status. You are of marrying age, my child, and I’m growing old. Everyone is thinking of the future—their future. And riches. And power. They see you as a pedestal to rise atop and rule the city. Everyone with a gem in their pocket will propose to you sooner or later.”

  He leaned toward his daughter, reaching to caress her hand. “Look around. Which of these clowns would you accept as a husband? Galec Neashure with his horse face and dimwitted personality? Or would you rather wed someone much older like Reloux Rikal, or younger like that ruffian Alektom child? I had asked Akunai to bring you a gift today to start the rumor mill and spare you their bootlicking.”

  Cleora didn’t respond. Her legs shook in irritation.

  “Akunai is your best match. He’s a respected channeler, and an achieved commander. Our people will listen to his words. The stupid guilds with their vapid masters and their childish games will yield to him. If you genuinely care about Troqua and the safety of our people, like you always claim, you have to proceed with this marriage.”

  A long silence followed. No one spoke until Emery nudged Akunai under the table with a bony finger.

  “Listen Cleora,” Akunai started. “I didn’t mean to-“

  Pushing back her chair, the duchess stood and left.

  Akunai sighed, slumping back. “You better resolve this issue. I’m not spending the rest of my life handling her tantrums.”

  The duke smacked the table so hard, Skye feared it’d break down on his head. The singer screamed her song, and the music ramped up its rambunctiousness.

  “Listen here, you vainglorious sack of deepbat-shit,” the duke snarled. “You hurt my daughter like this again and I’ll rip your guts out and feed them to the pigs. Then I’ll parade your severed head for this entire hellhole of a city to see. Don’t you ever test my patience again!”

  Although the threat wasn’t directed at him, Skye shivered in fear. In contrast, Chief Akunai didn’t even flinch.

  “I didn’t mean to insult her,” Akunai said coolly. “She’s being unreasonable.”

  “She is my daughter! She can be as unreasonable as she wants!”

  Akunai didn’t respond, and the duke muttered more obscenities, most of which were new to Skye’s ears. He only stopped when waiters approached to clear the dishes.

  Skye had heard enough. He’d gotten his bargaining chip with Dray. But he had to hurry now. If word of what happened here reached the warden first, his leverage would be gone.

  Still, he wasn’t done yet. He needed a proof for his claims.

  “Emery,” the duke said once the servers left. “Help Akunai fix today’s mistake. Select Cleora a gift she’d like and give it to him. Make sure everyone knows she’s excited for the wedding. And teach him some manners on how a lady expects to be treated.”

  “Yes, brother,” Emery said with a tone of smug satisfaction.

  Chief Akunai leaned forward. “How can this numskull teach me anything about women? Have you ever been with a lady, Emery? Can you even name three women, being stuck with your tomes every day?”

  Emery slurped his drink then started counting. “Your mother is Saliera, your sisters are Risha and Tarema Kasi. Is this enough or would you like me to name your aunts, cousins, and nieces?”

  Akunai’s pyrpphire ring sparked blood-red as he clenched his fist. “Listen here you fossilized shroomi: I don’t care who you think you are. Mention my family again and I’ll burn you to ash.”

  “Behave yourselves, you two!” the duke bellowed. “We have a party coming, and I want both of your heads to be in the game. We can’t afford any mistakes. Understood?”

  After a tense pause, they answered out of sync. “Yes, my duke.”

  Waiters returned bringing dessert. Skye took advantage of the hustle to leave his hiding and snatch the little black box off the table. He dashed away, casting his curse to drown the mayhem his sudden appearance caused. Not two steps away, a searing pain lit up his neck.

  The back of his duplet was afire, and it hurt like burning hell. He ran like a lit beacon among dozens of armed wardens, and behind, Chief Akunai stood, the pyrpphire in his ring sparking dangerously, his red irises fixed on Skye.

  Thinking fast, Skye activated his curse again then jumped into a nearby fountain, dousing the flames with a hiss. He cast it a third time as he scrambled out, then a fourth as he rolled into hiding under a table, soaking wet and trembling.

  He crouched there, breath ragged, his neck throbbing with heat and pain. Had he activated his curse a split-second later, the chief would have skewered him with a fiery spear.

  Akunai wasn’t called the best channeler in the city over nothing. His reaction speed was legendary.

  Skye rang his bell several times just to be sure. When he peeked out, all was calm. Akunai enjoyed his cake in peace, like nothing had happened. A copy of the ring rested on the table before the duke.

  Inhaling deeply, Skye bolted away, the brand on his neck pushing him forward.

  **********