Free Born Of Fire And Darkness (Book 2) by India Drummond Page B

they wouldn’t let a criminal like Seba anywhere near the emperor. And Graiphen, well, he’d have already made his arguments. Although logic told her she was safe, she kept remembering lying on the ground, bleeding from the thigh, surrounded by Braetin’s priests, hearing the Spirit’s wailing in her ears. She’d been bruised and battered by Graiphen’s own hands, with Seba’s dark magic thrusting and flailing all around her.
    She’d slept for two months. The healers expressed their surprise that she had woken up. When she did, she felt as though she’d been someplace dark and terrifying. Always before, she’d been calm and serene, finding comfort in the presence of the One. Now, she couldn’t stop her mind from returning to the nightmares from which she woke screaming so many nights. Although she tried to meditate as before, too many times she gave up. Her work load had exploded, but her ability to do her work had evaporated. How long could she pretend that she could handle it? Had she accepted this summons from the emperor simply to hide her own fear and ineptitude?
    Korbin showed a guardsman his and Octavia’s identity tokens. She wanted to cling to him, but she couldn’t let herself. Some dark fear screamed at her to hide, and only pure stubbornness kept her from bolting. Coming to Durjin only made things worse. She’d been hoping to shine some light on her fears, thinking that like the monsters of children’s dreams, they would fade with exposure. Instead, the light cast long, horrible shadows.
    Why had she become like this? She’d been through hard times before. It shamed her to her core that she was cowering inside, having become someone she barely recognized. And yet, she was powerless to stop the nightmares.
    The guardsman politely thanked Korbin and gave the tokens a cursory look before handing them back. Of course, they were expected and riding in the carriage the emperor had sent for them. Octavia found the scrutiny unnerving.
    The guard nodded to them both. “Someone will greet you at the door, Dul, Dula, and show you where to go.”
    Octavia opened her mouth to protest that she wasn’t a Dula, but he’d already stepped away and signaled to their driver to go ahead.
    “Nervous?” Korbin asked as the carriage lurched forward.
    “A little.” She stared out the window. Every blade of grass was immaculately groomed, each tree sculpted into a perfectly pleasing form. The carriage bore them up a winding road through a peculiarly manicured copse.
    “It’s beautiful,” he said, following her gaze. “The gardens here are legendary.”
    “I don’t imagine we’ll have time to see them.” She felt him watching her, detected the skepticism in his expression, but she was determined the visit would be brief. And why should it not? She would say what she came to say and be done with it. Although she was tired from their journey, she couldn’t be idle. Her people needed her. She couldn’t hide anymore. She must do better, work harder.
    The deeper they went behind the walls, the more astonished Octavia was to realize they were in the center of a city. The place seemed so quiet, so private, leagues away from civilization. When the carriage stopped, a rush of servants came to open the door, to put a step down for her, to take her hand, if desired, as she descended. When she emerged from the small compartment, she felt overwhelmed, and the sensation only increased when she gazed up at the glittering white palace in front of her. It had seemed of modest size from the city down below, but standing so close, the structure loomed above her like a city in itself.
    Korbin stepped down after her and acknowledged a tall man dressed in a red tunic who had just bowed to them.
    “Dul Korbin, Senne Octavia,” the man said. His accent was strange, even for a Talmoran, with rounded vowels and an unfamiliar lilt. “His imperial highness begs his gentle guests greet, and bids you to enter a’ betimes. Might I show