Golden Age (The Shifting Tides, #1)(56)
‘Wait,’ Chloe said, biting her lip in desperation. The prospect of spending her life in this place filled her with horror. Without freedom of movement, and the ability to learn about this city, she would have no chance whatsoever to get away. ‘I have skills.’
He shrugged. ‘It is no business of mine.’ He glanced at the white chiton she’d draped over herself like a bed sheet. ‘You know how to clothe yourself?’
‘Of course.’ She scowled.
‘Good,’ he said. ‘I have my duties.’
He stalked away.
Her heart filled with trepidation, she began to dress.
Chloe sat on a wooden bench in a waiting room. Her thick, near-black hair was now combed until it shone, falling from her shoulders to her waist. Her copper amulet was gone, offered to the Oracle, but she still wore the chain of burnished red metal around her neck. Copper pins held the white chiton draped around her.
The youth had summoned her, handing her to a palace guard at the arched entrance to the women’s quarters. She had been waiting for what felt like an eternity. Sweat beaded on her brow, though it was cool in the palace’s interior.
Chloe knew she was about to meet the sun king.
The waiting room had guards at both ends. She could hear a rough, booming voice in the opposite direction to the way she had come. Finally, the guard on that side beckoned.
She felt her chest rise and fall as she followed him into the sun king’s audience chamber.
The cavernous space was bright and airy, facing the harbor so that a cool breeze ruffled the patterned tapestries spread along the walls. White marble columns held up the ceiling and thick carpets rested snugly one against the other so that almost no part of the floor lay bare. At her right, wide windows allowed afternoon sun to pour through, while the left side displayed a series of arches leading further into the palace’s interior.
Palace guards stood ahead of her, still and silent, framing the long rectangular space in the room’s center. She recognized Kargan, standing in fresh clothing, facing a golden throne.
The room was sumptuous and exotic, filled with colors of yellow and purple. As she stepped forward and stopped, Chloe was almost overwhelmed by the sight of so much wealth.
‘Keep your eyes down,’ the guard whispered, standing behind her shoulder.
‘—Raiding is a simple matter,’ Kargan was saying, ‘but complete conquest would be achievable. With a good harbor across the Maltherean, the rest of the world will enter our influence.’
‘So you say,’ a clipped, precise voice came from the throne. ‘Where is she? I think it is time to meet one of these Phalesians.’
Glancing over his shoulder and seeing her, Kargan beckoned.
‘Come, Chloe, daughter of the first consul of Phalesia,’ he said.
Chloe felt her footsteps sink into the carpets as she walked over. She carefully kept her eyes on the floor until she stood by his side.
She finally looked up at the throne, a high-backed chair with arms in the shape of a lion’s limbs, terminating in curled paws. Evidently the sun king wasn’t yet desperate enough to melt his throne: it was made of solid gold.
Solon, the sun king of Ilea, who was said to have taken his nation into a new age of glory, was a tall man; even without the additional height of his raised throne he would look down his long patrician nose at anyone he spoke to. Black hair flowed to his shoulders and he had a sculpted, pointed beard. Piercing dark eyes looked at her from under thin arched eyebrows. He had smooth olive skin and his frame reinforced the angularity of his features – he was extremely lean.
He regarded her with a strangely feverish expression that was both hypnotic and fanatical. As the seconds dragged his visage shifted to sardonic amusement.
‘Prostrate yourself,’ Kargan hissed.
Chloe sank to her knees and clasped her palms together. She realized that this meeting of peoples could have an effect on the fate of her nation.
‘Now bow,’ Kargan muttered.
She bowed forward, awkward in the movement. ‘Greetings, sun king. Were he here, I am certain my father, First Consul Aristocles, would give you his wishes for health and prosperity.’
‘Rise,’ Solon said. He frowned at Kargan. ‘Do all her people speak like this or does she have a speech impediment? I can barely understand her.’
Chloe climbed to her feet and stood uncertainly. ‘I have lived all my life in the one city, the place I call home, sun king. My people all speak as I do.’
‘I can see, Kargan, that I cannot accuse you of preparing her words and actions. Not only does she not know how to behave in front of the king of kings, I address a question to you and she answers.’
‘The women in Phalesia exercise many liberties, Great King,’ Kargan said, scowling at Chloe.
She recalled the words of the eunuch. She had to do anything she could to get a modicum of freedom. If she were treated as other women, she would never escape.
‘If you are so willing to speak, girl, tell me of your homeland,’ Solon commanded.
‘My . . . My homeland is a peace-loving nation—’
Solon interrupted her with a wry chuckle, holding up a hand. ‘A peace-loving nation with well-trained soldiers carrying good steel, a sizeable fleet of war galleys, a defensible harbor, and stout walls on all sides. Unless, girl, you tell me my loyal servant Kargan is lying?’ His amused expression vanished in an instant. ‘Choose your next words carefully. The punishment for deceit is death by impalement.’