Mermaid Tear (The Fated #2)

02 | The Mad King

The palace loomed above them like a towering nightmare as Iliana and Lykos exited the cart. Armored guard after armored guard lined their path. Whether they were there to protect her, protect the inhabitants from her, or just to ensure Iliana wasn't going to run, she had no idea. The sight chilled her to the core, however. The dread was only worsened by how many of them gave her a distinct, dark feeling.

Just as the instinctive sensation that Eumelia emanated reminded Iliana of gold, of Koun, a good portion of the guards felt black in aura. A color which Iliana vaguely remembered being associated with Kikin, the god of war, disease, and neutrality.

Kikin was also the god of demons.

The few guards who hadn't been stiff as a post before their approach snapped to attention as Lykos nudged the small of her back, pushing her to join him as he started forward. Whispers once again followed them, but this time she could find no source for the noise, as each of the men seemed stoic and motionless.

"He actually did it!"

"Holy fuck, I didn't think that was possible."

"It is him, after all. If anyone was going to get one, it was bound to be that guy. Shame he's collared. The commander would love to have him."

"Ugh, at this rate of success His Majesty will never sell him. I was so hoping. My husband let me set aside a fund, just in case. Ayo even threw in a few coins for my death-day. What a waste."

The final, unsubtle whisper came from the far left as they entered the covered walkway leading to the palace doors. The source seemed to be a sourfaced, yet delicate-looking noblewoman. She was accompanied by a less expensively dressed, yet still clearly noble brunette. The lace fan in the speaker's hand was laid dramatically against her sallow forehead. And, as they walked, her pitch black eyes followed their procession with a clear glint of greed.

The most startling detail about the first noble woman, however, was the thick, crimson hair that fell to her shoulders in perfectly styled waves. She wasn't Reotakian.

"Oh, come on, Rae," her companion urged, tugging on the woman's arm. "It is a shame, but let's not dawdle. We've caught a glimpse of the things as intended. If we waste anymore time your brother will complain. He wanted a word before he left, remember?"

"Nicki can just go bite a whore if he thinks he can summon me like a servant," the woman scoffed, dragging her arm from her friend.

Despite her words, she merely tossed Iliana and Lykos a last, pointed glower, before huffing and strolling off in a separate direction. Iliana looked to Lykos the moment the women had disappeared, but found no sign he had heard any of it, or if he had, that he cared. His face was a perfect example of the carefree, cocky smile she'd begun to associate with the mercenary.

In these circumstances, however, and given his recent mood, the expression felt hollow. She was reminded of the cold, biting anger that had dominated the depths of the nightmare Koun had shown her weeks before. Was that present, now, burning just below the surface of his smile?

How did he hide that? Iliana would've swung at the woman, had she been in his situation. She would've shouted about not being an object. About how she wasn't just someone to own.

Lykos' eyes flicked to hers as they paused outside the massive, ash doors that dominated the wall in front of them. There was the faintest, genuinely amused twitch of his lips as he studied her expression, and she pointedly dropped her scowl. It was impossible that he knew what she'd been thinking, but still, Iliana refused to show him any empathy she might've felt.