Grace and Fury (Grace and Fury #1)(21)

She stiffened, expecting derision. “I did, Your Eminence.”

“This must be very different for you,” he said kindly. Her tense muscles eased a fraction. “Where are you from?”

“I’m from Lanos.”

He slowed until they were walking side by side down the gilded hall. She lowered her gaze to the marble floor. “I remember visiting the mountains north of Lanos as a child,” he said, his voice softening. “It was the first time I ever saw snow.”

“I’ve always loved the way snow can transform things,” Nomi said. “Old, broken buildings, dirty streets—the world can become bright and pristine in the space of an afternoon.”

Asa’s voice turned rueful. “I admit, I was more interested in making snowballs than admiring the scenery. Though in my defense, I was seven.”

Nomi smiled at her feet. “Completely understandable, Your Eminence.”

“And how are you adjusting to life here?” he asked. “Are you satisfied with your new role?”

Her face fell, and the fleeting moment of connection was broken. She wondered if these questions were a test, like everything else here seemed to be. “The palazzo is beautiful, and I am very happy to be here,” she said dutifully, even as her cheeks flushed with anger.

He glanced at her again. “It must be difficult, with your sister gone.”

Nomi’s breath froze at the mention of Serina. Her feet froze too, tripping on the hem of her flowing dress. Automatically, she reached out to steady herself, and gripped Asa’s arm. He turned to face her, steadying her. For an instant, they stood still in the middle of the hallway, holding each other.

Nomi let go of his arm and stepped back, face hot. “Pardon me.”

Asa cleared his throat. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have brought up your sister. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He looked so much like his brother, but the features that looked hard on Malachi were softened on Asa. Nomi leaned a breath closer. Maybe she could ask him—

A door ahead of them swung open, and Ines emerged.

Asa turned to face the Head Grace. Nomi’s question died in her throat.

Ines curtsied, her eyes narrowing as she noticed Nomi standing beside Asa. “Hello, Your Eminence.”

“I found your wayward Grace,” Asa said cheerfully, erasing any tension lingering in the hall. He stepped out of Nomi’s way.

“I’m sorry,” Nomi said, keeping her head down. “I got lost.”

Ines nodded and ushered Nomi inside. But Nomi slowed, glanced over her shoulder, watching until Asa rounded the corner and disappeared from view. She ignored Ines’s stern look as she headed for her room, deep in her own thoughts.

Maybe the Heir wasn’t the only way to find out about Serina. As she thought of Asa again, the hint of a smile curled her lips.





ELEVEN



SERINA


THE RED-HAIRED WOMAN from Oracle’s crew won the fight. When Serina finally opened her eyes, the women around her were pumping their fists in the air, and the rest were standing silently as their leaders dragged the fallen fighters from the amphitheater.

“Are they—are they dead?” Serina whispered.

Jacana swallowed, her small face ghostly pale in the torchlight. “Most of them.”

Cliff came to collect the new girls, leading them out of the amphitheater with the others. She held a flickering torch aloft to light their way.

“What was that?” Serina hissed as they walked. Her hands shook, and her teeth chattered. What she’d just seen, what she’d heard…

Cliff shot her a glance. “There isn’t enough food for everyone. The Superior doesn’t care if we live or die.” She spit into the darkness. “So we fight.”

Jacana whimpered.

“Fight? For food?” Serina asked, her voice cracking. “Why do the guards allow it?”

“Allow it? They’re the ones who started it. The guards watch and cheer, even bet on who will win.” She bared her teeth, her voice bitter. “We are their sport.”

Serina remembered the Superior’s dignitaries passing her around on the dance floor. Not caring who she was or what she said as long as she smiled. It hadn’t bothered her then. “But this—”

“There are five camps on this island. Whenever a boat comes in, each camp must choose someone to send to the ring. Only the winner’s crew gets rations.” Cliff climbed over a broken boulder. “Tonight, our champion won. That means we eat well tomorrow. The rest of the crews will have to scavenge the island for whatever they can find until the next haul of prisoners arrives.”

Serina swallowed back a wave of revulsion. “How do the guards decide who wins?”

Cliff raised a brow, as if the answer were obvious. “Didn’t you see? The winner is the one who lives.”

“We have to kill each other?” Jacana’s voice broke in, a high, terrified squeak.

Cliff didn’t spare her a glance. “Cowards can submit. Be exiled from their crews. But most of those who fight and lose prefer death. It’s quicker than starving.”

Serina’s eyes burned with unshed tears. When she had opened Nomi’s book, she’d done it so innocently. A quick peek at a part of her childhood, a memory of her brother to stave off homesickness and grief. A tiny moment, before she hid the book and lectured her sister on her recklessness. Serina had never imagined what she risked. What Nomi risked by learning to read. As Serina stumbled up the path, the screams of dying women echoing in her ears, she had never wanted anything more than to see that book of legends burn.