Page 21 of A Broken Ember

“You have dishonored the Circulus, Claeg.” Clotho sneered at me. She sat on Thana's throne, projecting the picture of a strong Janardan.

“I haven’t,” I contradicted. My body ached everywhere, but I remained on my knees before them, head bowed low.

Clotho tsked. “You deny that you have feelings for the De Vita prince?”

I looked around for Thana but found her missing. “My heart belongs to my clan!” My eyes flared at the questioning of my loyalty.

“And which clan is that?” Clotho spat, rising to her feet. She held a blade, idly tossing it between her hands.

“I don’t know!” I cried. Horror filled me at the admission.

“Finally some truth from you, Eleos,” my sister growled. She raised her blade to my chin, tilting my head so that my eyes met hers. Their violet hues promised violence. “You are no longer Circulus. Your Circles are broken, and you are hereby Pruned.”

“Clotho, don’t do this. You don’t have the authority! I demand to speak to Thana!”

“Thana is gone, Claeg. You killed her,” she said before driving the blade into my gut.

I woke up with a cry dying on my lips.

“I am here,” a soft voice, sweet like nectar, soothed me.

“Clotho?” I whimpered.

“No, Eleos, it is me, Anastasius.”

My eyes cracked open, the small movement taking longer than it should have. It took even longer for me to articulate more words. “Where is my sister?” So this is what it felt like—unimaginable, despicable weakness. I pushed against whatever was holding me down, a dull ache making it hard to resist.

“I imagine the Janardan’s heir is within the Circulus stronghold.”

I frowned, studying the man before me. Then it hit me—my Circles, the De Vita, the trials . . . him.

The prince gave me a concerned look and gently tried to push me back to lie down. I wasn’t having any of it. I waved him away, pushing myself to unsteady feet. A feeling like my guts wanted to erupt from my mouth swept through me, my vision blurred, and my head felt too light for my body. A moan trickled from within me. My hand flew to my forehead as Anastasius braced me, steadying me. I glared at where his scarred hand held me. A few breaths circled through my body before the feeling dissipated. Once certain I could stand without him, I wrenched myself away.

Anastasius followed me as I walked onto the balcony, out into the glaring sun. The bright red streaks were vessels falling through the sky. Draconis flew about the Sand Eye, darting in and around the platform atop the mesa. Far below, people lounged around the oasis, enjoying the water and shaded sand. A gust of wind rustled my braided hair and light clothing, bringing the scent of spice with it. It was peaceful. Quiet. Only the remnants of my dream disturbed me.

“What happened?” I glanced at Anastasius. His lips were puffy and red from where he had bitten them. I walked to the end of the balcony and sat with my legs dangling over the edge. The prince quickly followed suit.

“Your infection . . . it was bad. Your body needed to heal. You’ve been out for quite some time. I’m afraid . . . the next test is in half a moon turn.”

I cried in protest. Odon had said the trial would happen in one moon turn. I had lost half the time. I held his gaze for a moment, watching those pale moons assess me for a reaction. I nodded slowly.

“And until then?”

“You are to remain at my side.” My eyes lit up at the chance to grow closer to him. Long, dark locks of hair swayed about his taut shoulders cut with muscle. It was an effort to tear my eyes away. When I did manage to look away, we sat in silence for a while. Enjoying the view and the sun on our faces. And if I was being honest with myself, I was enjoying the time alone with him. Well, almost alone. The Ruptor sensed Calian’s presence beyond the door nearly continuously, only marking his absence for short periods. Like now. Perhaps he had left to relieve his body of its fluid.

My hand itched to clasp his where it rested within reach. I caved to the impulse. Suddenly, my hand spasmed, drawing my eyes to my bandaged palms. Light pink tissue poked out from beneath them, I pulled back the covering to see the bone was no longer exposed. Where the flesh had been shredded was a thick, ugly scar. Before the trial my hands had been swollen and red, but now they were disfigured. I closed them into fists, unable to stand looking at the weakness. Even if Thana takes you back, Clotho will never look at you the same. You are too broken for the Circulus. Worry bubbled in my chest, real and raw and fresh. What if my clan wouldn’t take me back? The thought stirred my gut, and I had to take a deep breath to keep my stomach’s contents down.

A gentle hand on my forearm made me jolt. “I’m sorry I couldn’t heal them better,” the prince murmured. I squeezed my eyes shut; my teeth ached from my clenching them. “How do your hands feel?” I swallowed, raising my eyes to meet his.

“They’re fine,” I ground out. He nodded, accepting the answer despite the lies on my tongue. He had seen my wounds and was perhaps more familiar with them than I was. We fell into another comfortable silence.

“Do you ever wonder what lies on the other side of the sea?” Anastasius blurted out after a while, surprising me.

My brows pinched. Had I? I didn’t think so. My duty bound me to the Circulus, leaving no room for daydreaming about traveling the world. Yet being here, among De Vita, had shown me how much more we could have. Things were different here, and not all of it was bad.

“I was never allowed to within the Circulus. Within the clan, my only thoughts were for their benefit,” I admitted. The prince gave me a sad smile. I scowled. I didn’t want his pity. I’d had everything I needed in the Circulus.

But in truth, I had thought about what lay across the water when I flew through the sky and rested on the clouds. When I was flying, I pondered things I couldn’t within the walls of the Circulus.

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