The Ippos King (Wraith Kings #3) - Grace Draven Page 0,147
not spend an evening than under the king's roof. “I consider it an honor, Your Majesty, but I'm an unexpected visitor and don't wish to rob one of your courtiers of space. I have a place to stay just outside the city, though I would ask a boon of you.” She didn't lie. That space was a narrow tent pitched in the conifer forest covering the canyon walls surrounding Timsiora.
“What is that?” he asked, the slight narrowing of his eyes warning her, he was tiring of this meeting as much as she was.
“That I may see Lord Pangion.”
The narrowed eyes went to slits for a moment, reminding her of a feral cat. He stared at her, then shrugged. “One visit. On the other side of the bars, and accompanied by guards and at least one of my sorcerers.” He still believed the Kai possessed their magic and was taking precautions. Anhuset had no intention of enlightening him.
She bowed low. “Of course, and you have my thanks.” Excitement bubbled inside her, anticipation and no small relief. Soon she'd be gone from here, and while she'd never before delighted in a visit to a prison, she'd engaged in many firsts today. One more made no difference, except in this case, she'd see a man whose face and touch had haunted her dreams since she left him in a monastery, prepared to give himself over to royal troops as a prisoner.
“A messenger will find you when you have my answer,” Rodan said and dismissed her from his presence with an abrupt shooing motion.
His guards wasted no time escorting her out, though it was they who jogged to keep up with her as she left. The flock of courtiers were still outside, their faces avid. Word of what she'd said at the gate had obviously reached to all corners as many in the crowd wore smirking expressions, even horrified ones. Anhuset ignored them all, striding through their midst and threatening to stride over them if they didn't get out of her way.
Droginin was waiting for her outside the castle. Anhuset hadn't expected to see him again. “I've volunteered to take you to the Zela, sha-Anhuset. It's the prison here in Timsiora and where the margrave is currently kept.”
Once at the prison, he spoke with the guards there and was met by the warden, a refined-looking man whose appearance seemed at odds with his grim profession and even grimmer surroundings. Droginin offered to keep an eye on her horse while she was inside. “I'll take you back to the city gates once you're through here,” he said.
Anhuset studied him before offering a closed-lip smile. “So you're to be my nanny while I'm in Timsiora, captain?”
He gave a small laugh. “I prefer to think of it as your escort. So you don't get lost here in our beautiful capital.”
There was no obvious sarcasm in his words, but she heard it just the same. Escort, nanny, whatever one might want to call his role, he'd been assigned to keep an eye on her while she was here, an unwanted and unexpected guest that everyone was sure would cause trouble during her stay.
The warden greeted her with a half bow and a knowing glance. “It seems the Beladine Stallion casts his seed far afield. I wouldn't have believed it if you weren't standing in front me.” She stared back at him, unmoved by either anger or amusement at his lewd banter. He cleared his throat and looked away. “Come. This way.”
They passed through a small antechamber into a narrow hallway that led into a labyrinth of other dark, narrow hallways. The Zela looked enormous and imposing on the outside but suffocatingly cramped on the inside. She welcomed the gloom but guessed for humans who sought sunlight, those imprisoned here found the Zela a sepulchral place and chillier than any tomb.
The warden led her up flights of stairs until they reached the topmost floor. Here the hallways were only a little wider and the cells on either side spaced in a staggered fashion so that the occupants couldn't see each other across the way. As they moved farther down the corridor, the warden called out, “Margrave, you have a visitor most eager to see you.”
A swarm of butterflies erupted into flight in Anhuset's belly. Worry. Anticipation so fierce she almost shook with it. Her ears strained to ear a voice but no one replied. The warden halted at one cell door, a latticework of metal with openings large enough