“You have a new sword,” he said, not looking back, stroking the horse’s mane.
The mare whinnied in approval.
“Yes. A gift from my father,” she said, her hand automatically feeling for it, a pang of sadness overwhelming her.
But she didn’t want to talk about sad things.
“The rebellion seems to have grown,” she said.
“Since I last brought you here, our supporters have tripled in number,” he said.
It made Ceres happy to see wonderment in his eyes.
They walked outside and sat down on a wooden bench, Rexus facing her. He gently stroked her hair, and then caressed her face.
A void opened within her chest when she thought of saying good-bye, and again she entertained the idea of remaining here.
“Perhaps I will stay with you,” she said.
Rexus pressed his lips together.
“I would love that, but I think the best thing is if you keep your appointment at the palace,” he said.
Ceres knew he was right, but still, it hurt to hear him say she should go.
“Here, we have many supporters,” Rexus continued. “But we have no one working within the palace walls.”
“I don’t know how much access I would have to the inside or the other royals,” she said.
“If you gain Prince Thanos’s trust, I’m certain he would give you access to all the rebellion needs. When the moment is right, you could lead us inside the palace, securing our victory,” he said.
Ceres’s stomach churned at the thought of gaining Prince Thanos’s trust only to betray him. But why? Perhaps it was because he did trust her and had given her a chance where others would not. Or perhaps it was because he despised his family and what they stood for just as much as any commoner.
Either way, Rexus was right: by doing this, she could help the rebellion like no one else. In fact, her presence inside the castle walls was just what the rebellion needed, and could very well play a significant part in the downfall of the Empire.
She nodded, and for a brief moment, they held each other’s eyes.
Not wanting to drag out the farewell, the sadness already overwhelming her, Ceres rose to her feet and walked into the barn. Just as she was about to mount the horse, she heard Rexus enter behind her. While securing the saddle, she glanced back.
“I must go so I am not late for the palace. Please take care of my brothers, and Anka,” she said.
Rexus placed a hand on her shoulder and tingles spread through Ceres’s body. Ceres thought about the kiss they had shared earlier. Had he meant to kiss her as a friend, or something more? She wanted it to be more. She knew if she turned around, she would find his eyes and his lips would meet hers. And then she wouldn’t be able to tear herself away.
So without another word she mounted her horse and kicked, galloping away, far from this place, and toward the palace – determined not to look back for anything.
CHAPTER NINE
As the sun broke over the horizon and with hardly a second to spare, Ceres galloped through the palace gates, dropped off the horse at the royal stables, and darted toward the palace training ground. When she was almost halfway, she noticed her sword brushing against her leg, and she stopped. Would someone see her sword and perhaps even steal it from her if she brought it? She knew there was no time, and she could be fired for being late, but under no circumstances could she afford to lose this sword.
As fast as her feet could carry her, she sprinted back to the blacksmith’s chalet, and finding the place empty, she climbed up the ladder to the loft. There, behind a pile of old planks and crooked twigs, she hid her sword before tearing toward the palace training ground.
When she arrived – breathless, heart thumping wildly – to her surprise, she saw that the entire court had gathered around the practice arena. The king and queen sat on their thrones, princes and princesses on chairs beneath the willow trees, fanning themselves, and the advisors and dignitaries sat on benches, whispering to each other.
In the practice arena, combatlords sparred against royals, and weapon-keepers were watching their masters, handing off swords, daggers, tridents, shields, and floggers. Since she could remember, Ceres had yearned for an opportunity like this, but now that the moment was here, she felt empty inside.
“Ceres!” Thanos yelled, waving to her.
She didn’t know why, but when she saw him again, her heart stirred. Then she reprimanded herself. She had to remember why she was here, which was to befriend her enemies and gain their trust, not be amused by a handsome prince who somehow seemed to put her under his spell.
Ceres ran over to Thanos.
“Right on time,” he said with a nod.
“Of course,” she said as if getting here hadn’t been a miracle and a half.
An Empire soldier marched to the center of the arena.
“All royal warriors, hastily line up before King Claudius, your weapon-keepers behind you,” he said.
The royals stopped what they were doing and Ceres followed Thanos, taking her place behind him. She noticed that Lucious was back. Had he reconsidered? Been forced to return?
“You’re wondering about Lucious?” Thanos asked, glancing back at her.
“Yes.”
Ceres wasn’t sure whether she hated it or liked it that he was so in tune with her thoughts.
“One doesn’t say no to the king,” Thanos whispered.
She wanted to ask why, but the king rose, holding a golden bowl up, and the gathering hushed.
“This dish is filled with the names of each of our royal warriors,” the king said. “Today I will select three names who will fight in the Killings at noon.”
The crowd gasped, each royal warrior and their weapon-keepers included.
But the Killings weren’t supposed to be until next month, Ceres thought. Had the king just on a whim scheduled the Killings for today?
She glanced at Thanos, but he stood rigid as a board, his face forward so she couldn’t see his expression. They weren’t ready to fight in the Killings, Ceres knew. None of them were. They hadn’t been given enough time to train together, to get to know each other’s fighting styles.
Winding her hands tightly into fists, she focused on keeping her breathing steady. Only three of twelve would be selected, so there was still a chance they didn’t have to fight today.
The king reached his chubby hand into the bowl and pulled out a slip.
“Lucious!” he yelled, an evil grin emerging on his lips.
Ceres exhaled and glanced over at Lucious, seeing that his face had turned as red as a beet. The onlookers clapped, although their applause was far from enthusiastic. Did they think this was unfair, too? Ceres wondered.
The king reached into the bowl again and drew a name.
“Georgio!” he hollered, his eyes slithering to the end of the line where Georgio waited.
A woman who looked old enough to be Georgio’s mother stood up began to sob, yelling obscenities toward the king, but when she stepped onto the practice arena, she was escorted away by Empire soldiers.
Ceres huffed and kept her eyes trained on Thanos’s broad back. Only one name left, she told herself. The chances of Thanos being selected were slim.
Reaching his hand into the bowl a third time, the king glanced at Thanos and the right side of his lip rose.
Ceres saw Thanos’s shoulders tense, and immediately she knew something wasn’t quite right. Had the king planned this? Rigged this?
Her heart nearly stopped.
“And last but not least, Thanos!” the king exclaimed with a smug smile.
The crowd went silent for a moment, but when the queen started to applaud with fervent enthusiasm, the others followed.
“The risk of death is great, my chosen ones. May you each represent your sovereign and Empire with honor and strength,” the king continued.
The king sat down and an Empire soldier explained the rules of the Killings, but Ceres could hardly listen to a word he said, she was so shocked.