Page 88 of Daughter of the Drowned Empire
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
MORNINGCAMETOOquickly.I spent the night tossing and turning, my dreams full of the Emartis, Lady Romula, and legions upon legions of Ka Kormac soturi marching through Bamaria, their sandals kicking dirt everywhere until the waterways were covered in filth. It was enough to make me sick as I sat up in bed. To top it all off, my body was sorer than it had ever been thanks to Rhyan’s training. It had hurt just to roll over. Standing up nearly knocked the breath out of me, and I had to lie on my back just to lace up my sandals because bending over was too much.
I joined Haleika and Galen for breakfast in the Katurium’s dining hall, but the thought of eating made me feel nauseated. My vomiting display on the track still haunted me; not just had it been utterly humiliating, but throwing up in that way had been painful.
In the end, Haleika assured me it was better to eat now instead of later just to keep up my strength. I wasn’t sure I believed her, but I acquiesced and made a small plate of flat bread, hummus, and fruit before downing the largest mug of coffee I could find. As I drank, she caught me up on what I’d missed the night before. Viktor had been selected to be in the center for the first fight along with other soturi from Ka Kormac.
“No one wanted to attack his grace,” Galen said, stretching his arms overhead.
Haleika rolled her eyes. “Very convenient for him.”
Galen shrugged. “At least we get tonight off. No clinic until tomorrow.”
“That’s right!” Haleika perked up. “Maybe we can eat dinner at that little corner restaurant we found. You know the one with the waitlist at the festival?”
“Dinner?” Galen’s lips quirked.
I turned away, allowing them privacy to make their date, or whatever it was, for the evening. I watched the other soturi in the hall. I scanned each and every single one, looking for parchment in their bags, discarded scrolls from the Emartis, signs of black wings, a false sigil, anything. But every classmate was clean—at least as far as I could see. No one seemed to be acting nervous or strange, no more than I was used to observing.
I turned back to my plate, pushing a piece of flatbread around the hummus.
“Sound good, Lyr?” asked Haleika.
I dropped my bread. “What?”
“If you and Tristan join us for dinner?”
“Oh.” I thought of all the homework I already had and how I’d gone a whole day without checking on my sisters. Plus, a rebel group, the one responsible for crippling my father, was on the loose, and I was one of their prime targets.
“Shekar….” The word sounded in the air, rising above the conversations all around me.
The hair on the back of my neck prickled, and I turned, making eye contact with a group of girls who wore the orange of Ka Elys. They all stopped talking at once and turned away from me, staring down at their plates with an unnatural level of concentration. They barely seemed to breathe, engaging in the sort of forced silence that came from being caught by the very person you were talking about.
A pit formed in my stomach. Were they simply talking about me the way people always talked about me? Or had they uttered the word shekar?
I twisted in my seat to find Naria’s table. She sat with Viktor and Pavi. All three openly glared at me. Pavi turned toward Tani. She folded her arms across her chest, one leg smoothly crossing over the other.
“Lyr?” Haleika asked. “Dinner?”
“Sure,” I said. “Tristan and I can come to dinner.”
Haleika grinned. “Come on, let’s get our spots on the track.”
I cleared my tray, still full of untouched food. I was already dreading the idea of being out in public, being seen and scrutinized, and going out like everything was normal, like the city wasn’t being occupied by Ka Kormac. But I wanted to get a feel for the energy in Urtavia now, and, despite Aemon’s warnings, I wanted to search for more evidence of the Emartis. My engagement to Tristan depended on it.
Out in the arena, the morning sun beat down on the field, giving the white stadium seats and the inner field grass a golden glow. I yawned and braided my hair just as Rhyan motioned me to join him on the track.
Carefully, I walked over, fully aware of his eyes on me, the steady, intense gaze that watched my every step. I stretched out beside him, my dagger in the ground next to his, handles gleaming with gold. I was already warm.
“So, partner, are congratulations in order?” he asked, leaning forward into a lunge.
“Congratulations?” I asked nervously.
His good eyebrow lifted, but he continued staring ahead as he spoke. “You know? Felicitations. Best wishes.Tovayah maischa.”
“Good luck? For what?” I asked.
He turned toward me, and his green eyes flashed pointedly to my left hand. “Did Lord Grey finally propose?” His jaw tensed.
