three sets of stairs. Here, the third floor of the eastern wing, was Gloriae's domain, the place she had ruled for fifteen years. Almost running now, her boots clacking, Gloriae headed to the corner by the tower staircase, where May had a small room.
The door was closed. Gloriae paused outside it. She placed her hand on the knob, but dared not open it.
Kyrie caught up with her, muttering and glancing around nervously. When he saw her hand on the doorknob, his eyes softened. He sighed.
"Do you want me to look?" he said quietly.
Gloriae looked at him. His eyes, normally angry, now seemed concerned for her. Caring. Gloriae gritted her teeth. She needed nobody to care for her. She could do this. Whatever she found behind this door, she would deal with it.
She opened the door to May's room and stepped inside.
May lay nude on her bed. Her skull was broken; the wound looked like a mace's work. Her arms were bound.
"Stars," Kyrie whispered.
Gloriae stared at the scene, eyes dry. "She was raped," she said. Her voice sounded dead to her ears. She examined the wound on May's head. "A mace did this. My father's mace."
Kyrie placed a hand on her shoulder. "Gloriae, I'm sorry. Was this girl close to you?"
Gloriae spun to face him. He had removed his white mask. She saw herself reflected in his eyes.
"She was my best friend. My only friend. She... she was with me since childhood."
Kyrie tried to embrace her, but Gloriae shoved him back.
"No," she said. "Spare me your pity. I need no pity. I am Gloriae the Gilded, even now." She drew Per Ignem. "My father did this to her. When I was a child, and did poorly at a lesson of daggers, or at target practice, Dies Irae would be furious at me. He never beat me, though. He would beat May and make me watch. I watched. And I cried. And I knew that he desired May. I could see him staring at her, especially when we grew older." She looked back to the girl, and her voice softened. "But he can't hurt you anymore, May. Wherever you are now, you are safe from him."
Kyrie covered May with a blanket and looked at Gloriae, his eyes haunted. "I'm going to kill Dies Irae," he said.
Gloriae shook her head. "No, Kyrie. You will not. I will kill him."
They took May out of the palace, and built a pyre in the courtyard using firewood from the kitchens. They watched as the pyre burned, the fire drying her tears. You're with the Sun God now, Gloriae thought, staring into the flames. Pain like she had never felt filled her. The world entire was on fire. I'll avenge you, May. I swear. I love you.
She turned from the fire and lowered her head. Her fists clenched at her sides.
"Come," she said to Kyrie. "The library is near."
They walked silently around the palace, past a cobbled yard, around several toppled statues, and across a bridge. Gloriae breathed out in relief. The library still stood. It was an ancient building, three stories tall and round, topped with a bronze dome. She and Kyrie climbed the stairs, opened the doors, and stepped into a shadowy chamber.
For a moment they froze, gaping.
"Wow," Kyrie finally said, finding his voice.
Gloriae nodded. "Indeed."
She had never been inside the library. Only monks and priests would go here, not maidens of sword and shield. Gloriae had always imagined some dusty chamber full of moldy parchments. What she saw spun her head. Rows and rows of shelves lined the walls, rising all the way to the domed ceiling. Tens of thousands, maybe millions of books covered the shelves, all bound in leather. Gloriae's head spun. Dies Irae never read, but the old kings of Osanna must have loved the written word. She had never imagined so many books could exist.
"Look at the ceiling," Kyrie said, pointing with his dagger.
Gloriae raised her head, and a gasp fled her lips. That ceiling was painted with scenes of stars, clouds, and griffins. Filigree and jewels made the figures glitter.
One part of the ceiling was chipped away. It looked like somebody had painstakingly chiseled at the artwork, as if to efface a scene. The chisel-work resembled the shape of a dragon.
"A Vir Requis was once painted there," Gloriae said. "I'd bet anything. Dies Irae must have ordered it chiseled off, but you can still see the shape."
"I'd like to chisel something of his off," Kyrie muttered. He shook his