Endure - Sara B. Larson Page 0,47

massive, relentless orb of light, beating down on the dry, plantless ground. I was pretty sure the guards purposely slowed down to make sure my bare feet got burned by the hot sand as long as possible before we went back into the palace again through another door.

I was surprised that they let me walk across the plush carpets and pristinely cleaned floor with my dirty feet as they pulled me down another hallway, toward two massive, ornately carved wooden doors. I took extra care to make sure and grind the dirt into the carpet as I walked.

Outside the doors stood four men, two on each side. They all wore the same dark cloaks with the hoods pulled up as the black sorcerers by the gate between Antion and Dansii. Fear crawled over my skin as we got closer and their heads all lifted simultaneously to stare at us. I could barely see their faces, their shadowy features obscured by the dark confines of the hoods they wore.

Akio stopped a few feet away from the doors, and the guards on either side of me halted as well, jerking me to a stop.

“I, Akio, high healer for the kingdom of Dansii, seek audience with the king, as commanded by His Royal Majesty, to bring the prisoner Alexa Hollen before his throne.” Akio knelt down on the ground, bending his head, and the guards each grabbed one of my shoulders and shoved me to the ground as well. But I refused to lower my head, keeping my chin lifted instead, glaring forward at the black sorcerers. They could injure me, weaken me with drugs, make me kneel — but they couldn’t force my will to bend to theirs.

“You may enter, sorcerer,” one of the robed men intoned, his voice a low hiss.

Akio quickly stood as two of the robed men turned and opened the doors, which gave a low groan. My guards yanked me back to my feet, pulling at my wound. A sharp blast of pain lanced through me, but I forced my face to remain impassive. I refused to let them see that they had hurt me.

We walked past the huge doors and the black sorcerers into the largest room I’d ever seen. The entire wall across from us was made of floor-to-ceiling windows, soaring at least three stories above us. The floor was pure white marble that glistened with flecks of gold in the sunlight.

“So, this is the girl who is causing me all this trouble?” A deep voice came from my right, speaking in Antionese.

My guards spun me to see a man stepping down from a massive golden throne and striding toward us. The sunlight glinted off the golden crown nestled in his graying hair. “She seems rather … pathetic.”

My breath caught in my throat and ice filled my veins. I struggled against my bindings; every instinct inside of me screamed to shoot an arrow through this man’s heart or embed a sword through his gut. I knew exactly who he was, because he looked just like his brother, only taller and stronger, his eyes the same blue as Hector’s, the same blue as his nephew’s. But there was nothing I could do. My hands were tied; I was surrounded by sorcerers.

“Your Majesty,” Akio murmured, lowering his head. He and my guards all dropped to their knees, yanking me down with them. But again, I kept my chin lifted, hatred burning through me as Armando, the king of Dansii, approached us.

King Armando stopped a few feet away from me, his eyes narrowing when his gaze moved over my scars. His scrutiny sent a chill scraping down my spine. There was something about the coldness of his eyes that made my muscles quiver with the need to turn and run away. He was dressed completely in black, except for a blood-red sash, trimmed with the same blue the rest of his men wore, across his chest. He had a perfectly groomed beard that he reached up to stroke as his gaze flickered down my body, then back up again.

“Rise,” he said curtly, and Akio hurriedly jumped up. My guards pulled me to my feet, and though I tried to hide it, I was unable to keep from wincing at the pain that shot through me yet again.

King Armando’s expression darkened. “Why is she injured?” he asked, continuing to speak in Antionese. Though his voice was calm, my guards flinched, their heads dropping lower. “You.” King Armando pulled the sword