Endure - Sara B. Larson Page 0,51
be brought to El Evocon so that he might begin preparing you for your glorious purpose.” His voice was toneless, but I thought I saw a flicker of something — perhaps pity — flash in his dark eyes before he gestured for the woman to come forward.
He said something to her in Dansiian, and she nodded.
“What are you going to do?” I asked, but she merely shrugged at me as she stepped forward, setting a basket of supplies down on the bed next to me.
“She doesn’t speak your language,” Akio said.
“Oh.”
She gestured for me to turn, and I did as she asked, though I wanted nothing more than to knock her basket aside and rush out of the room. Considering my chains were connected to an anchor in the middle of the floor, it was an impossible wish.
“Who is El Evocon?” I asked Akio as the woman began to brush through my hair, which had grown even longer in the last few weeks, coming past my shoulders and nearly falling to my shoulder blades now.
“It means ‘The Summoner’ in your language,” was all Akio said.
After a few minutes of pulling and twisting and jabbing, the woman decided she was done arranging my hair and came around to sit in front of me. When she started to pull some jars and smaller brushes out of her basket, I shook my head.
“No,” I said, turning my face away from her. Fixing my hair was one thing; this was another. I refused to let her paint me up like some strumpet going willingly to her master.
She said something to me in rapid Dansiian, her irritation translating easily, though her words did not. Apparently, the king’s command that his sorcerers and guards be taught the languages of both Antion and Blevon hadn’t extended to his other servants.
“You must submit to her, or the king will have her punished,” Akio warned me.
The image of Armando slitting the guard’s throat without even blinking hit me in the gut, and I forced myself to face her and let her begin to apply the cosmetics. I didn’t know who this woman was, but I couldn’t bear it if she was harmed because I’d refused to let her line my eyes with kohl or stain my lips a darker red.
She worked quickly and soon put her supplies back in the basket and stood again.
“Come, Alexa. It’s time to go.” Akio bent down to the floor, using a key from a ring he’d had hidden in the folds of his tunic to unlock my chains from the floor. I dashed forward, using the momentary distraction as leverage to yank my chains free from his hands, but before I made it to the door, two men in dark robes moved to block my exit. One lifted his hand, the jewel-encrusted glove visible beneath the sleeve of his robe, and I ground to a halt.
“Please, don’t make this harder on yourself than it has to be,” Akio said, moving toward me, holding the end of my chains once more. “I convinced the king to only shackle your wrists. If you try to escape, he will force us to do your feet as well.”
I glanced between him and the black sorcerers, and then dropped my gaze to the ground. I didn’t miss the way Akio’s eyes flickered over my hair, the way his cheeks grew slightly pink when he looked into my face — not the way a man looked at me in disgust because of my scars, but the way a man did when he thought someone was attractive. Could that even be possible, despite my ruined skin — that perhaps he could come to care for me a tiny bit? If so, it might be possible to use that to my advantage somehow.
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
“Excuse me?” he asked in surprise.
“For convincing the king to chain only my hands. That was kind of you. And for healing me. I never told you thank you.”
When I glanced up, he was eyeing me suspiciously. I couldn’t play my part too heavily, or it would backfire and make him grow more wary, not less. “Are you taking me to the king now, or do I need to take myself? I’d hate for him to kill you, too, for being late.”
Akio shook himself, as if realizing that very well could be his fate, and rushed toward the other sorcerers. They parted to let him through. The chain pulled out until it was taut and