Page 38 of Oath of War
‘The goddess’ mercy will purge him,’ Valaram said simply. ‘That is the legend.’
‘And what of the goddess herself? Does the legend say how to charm her? Is there a specific offering or prayer that might win her favour?’ His only answer was a slightly raised eyebrow. ‘You know what, never mind, I’ll think of something when I get there.’
Just then, the door burst open, and Agnes stormed in, shaking a white scrap of fabric in her fist.
‘They are trying to humiliate you, Ani. This rag will barely cover your tits!’ she fumed, blushing when she noticed Valaram still there, standing in the shadows.
‘Yes, I’m still here,’ he said, unbothered. ‘Now, dress your lady so I can escort her to the arena.’
He settled into a chair uninvited, and I stepped behind the privacy screen. Fighting him would have been pointless. The look he gave me told me that no matter how nicely I asked, the dark fae wouldn’t be leaving.
Ipulled on the long, flowing skirt, thinking that maybe Agnes had been exaggerating. The slit ran relatively high but covered everything quite well. However, when my maid helped me into the linen shirt, it soon became a battle for us both to close the buttons over my breasts. After several minutes of yanking, cursing, and praying to the gods, my dignity and my breath had long since left my body—but I was finally ready. I exchanged a knowing glance with Agnes, and she quickly found me a shawl.
‘I look like a sacrificial virgin—or a prostitute on her debut,’ I muttered, covering the straining fabric.
I was going to fight a bloody battle in a negligee that would likely prompt cheers for all the wrong reasons. It didn’t help that Valaram’s smirk transformed into a broad, shameless grin the moment I stepped out from behind the privacy screen. If looks could kill, he’d have been a pile of ash on the carpet, but nothing seemed to faze him, so I simply ignored him.
The journey to the arena was thankfully short and silent.Soon, we were in front of the gates to the pit, the entrance for performers and combatants. The heavy iron grate seemed more fitting for a prison, speaking volumes about how the kings of old loved to watch their offenders fight monsters. The arena itself was a towering three-story structure, complete with a special seating area for nobles and a royal balcony, all surrounded by the muffled roar of an eager crowd.
They were here to see me die—spectators with wine-stained lips and greasy fingers clutching roasted meats, ready to enjoy a night of carnage at my expense. I felt utterly alone.
‘Vahin, I’m afraid and angry. I miss you so much. Wherever you are, if any shred of this reaches you, remember that I love you, my beautiful soul.’
My thoughts drifted to Orm, my other Anchor, and how much I wished he were here. Not to fight my battle, but to hug me before I faced it.I bet he’d love my outfit, I thought, chuckling and imagining how hard he’d roll his eyes at seeing it.
Interrupting my reverie, the sound of trumpets startled me from my thoughts. With a screech of its unoiled hinges, the iron grate slowly open, and an officer gestured me forward. I walked alone, gripping the hem of my dress when the wind whipped the fabric up around my knees. Not that it mattered.
The hum of the crowd quieted to an eerie silence as I entered the fighting pit. To my left, a massive portal sigil loomed on the wall, etched in a dark red substance that I refused to believe was blood. Several dark fae mages stood near it, nodding in greeting as I passed. The simple gesture halted my steps, and I stood, glancing at the size of the portal until the fae guard touched my shoulder.
‘You are expected to address the empress first, my lady,’ he said, motioning to the royal balcony at the far end of the arena.
I turned towards the balcony, my attention snapping to the figure seated in the centre. The empress. Talena’va Daren’ra. Shewas beautiful, her silvery skin glowing faintly, her mature but timeless eyes set in a heart-shaped face and framed by a cascade of jet-black hair. Her cold, unyielding gaze could have frozen fire, but I refused to flinch. Next to her sat an uncomfortable-looking Reynard.
My focus shifted, and my stomach churned. Alaric.That bitch chained my fae,I thought. My mate stood shackled on a dais below the empress, dressed only in black leather pants, his wrists bound in iron. Two veiled priestesses flanked him, their presence a sinister omen.
‘What a shit show,’ I muttered under my breath, ‘but at least we have equally ridiculous outfits.’
The guard behind me snorted, his laughter almost friendly. ‘It will be a shame to kill you, mage,’ he said as we walked towards the balcony. The sincerity in his voice surprised me.
‘I don’t intend to die,’ I replied evenly, ‘so don’t get in my way.’
‘I serve the empress, my lady, and I will do what I’m ordered,’ he countered. ‘Still, it is a shame.’
Before I could respond, a spell-enhanced voice cut through the arena.
‘Bring the penitent closer,’ the empress commanded.
Her words carried weight, and I felt it like a shove. Sand crunched beneath my boots as I walked towards her. I understood her need for revenge after her mate was killed, but it didn’t mean I would let her kill mine.
The chanting of mages filled the air, their melodic tones weaving an invocation I couldn’t understand. The thumping of heavy boots was almost deafening as soldier after soldier entered the arena—but I refused to look away from the empress until her mouth twisted in disdain.
‘Behold the one who, in her arrogance, challenges my judgement. She demanded the right to appeal to the Dark Mother’s mercy for this callous murderer chained before you.’Her disdainful glare bore into me. ‘Did you know that only two couples have survived this trial in its entire history?’
‘Well,’ I replied, my tone casual and defiant, ‘at least that means someone survived, and facing certain death isn’t exactly new for me. I keep trying to die, but it appears Morana1 doesn’t want me yet. Ask my necromancer. He’s healed me enough times to know that near-death experiences are my favourite pastime.’ I rolled my shoulders with a smirk, as if warming up for a fight.
‘I almost admire your arrogance. Fine, prove me wrong. See if you have what it takes to draw enough blood for the portal’s magic.’ She gestured towards Alaric. ‘My brother told me you strive to protect others. Let’s see if you can strive equally well to kill.’
‘Care to elaborate? I must have skipped a few classes on dark fae customs—I’m not sure I grasp the rules. Who do you want me to kill?’
