A Queen of Gilded Horns (A River of Royal Blood #2) - Amanda Joy Page 0,73

year after Aketo was born, Rodrick returned to the Enclosure to demand his son accompany him to Ternain. He wasn’t allowed; all khimaer born in the Enclosures must remain there. So instead his father became ambassador in the hopes of negotiating for Aketo’s freedom. He still took the months-long journey from Ternain to the mountains every year.

His father rarely pressed him on anything, but in the half year since Aketo had turned seventeen, each letter from his father mentioned leaving his home. Aketo kept most of the details of life in Sher n’Cai to himself, most especially the new curfew set by General Sareen, the army veteran who governed their home. Yet without ever asking Aketo what he wanted, Rodrick assumed he would leave the Enclosure. Aketo noticed how Rodrick avoided mention of the military he would have to join in exchange for his freedom.

A number of his father’s kin served in the Queen’s Army, and Aketo had known a number of mixed khimaer who left Sher n’Cai to join them. Yet the path of a common soldier held little appeal to Aketo.

Escape wasn’t reason enough to swear fealty to a Queen he despised. Even if her military would afford him every opportunity . . . it would be a lie. He would never condemn the others who’d been willing to tell that lie in order to escape. But he loved his home, despite its being a cage.

For better or worse, Sher n’Cai was their home. Anywhere else he traveled, he would always be an outsider.

He had needed to do something, though. Dthazi was the first son; he led their secret khimaer force alongside their cousin Yayazi and would take over Daischa’s place as their leader one day.

Aketo was the second son, second Prince. The expectations placed upon him were different, but no less demanding. He was to find his purpose in a calling, a passion that would honor every gift Khimaerani had given him as well as serve his family.

The khimaer in the Enclosures were trapped, beaten, and killed, all for rules not even a child would be expected to follow. Bowing to the Queen while his family was still here would not serve them well.

He wrote back to his father: He would stay in Sher n’Cai for now and serve by teaching the children. If nothing else stirred passion in him, making sure the young learned the song of the earth was noble enough.

Then, a week later, he woke to the news that three men, one his cousin, had not returned to their homes at sundown. Daischa asked her sons to see if the men were locked in the cages Throllo kept outside his stronghold. Instead of using the dungeons in the basement of the manor, he cruelly subjected his prisoners to the harsh northern climate.

Even though the General had agreed to notify Daischa a day in advance of executions and provide documentation of the accused crimes, Aketo had been sick to his stomach as they sprinted downslope. When they stopped before the manor’s stone gate and saw the three men hanging from nooses, he vomited.

Then, worse, one of the soldiers manning the gate began to joke that the General should start keeping trophies.

“Maybe,” he’d said, “we should untie the bodies and take their horns. Throllo loves surprises.”

A strange roaring filled Aketo’s ears and he took two steps forward, gaze locked on the sword on the hip of the nearest soldier. His brother’s hand dropped onto his shoulder and Dthazi’s magick poured out from him and took hold. Icy calm blew through the air on a phantom wind. The purity of the feeling captured Aketo’s mind just as soundly as it ensnared the soldiers’.

Dthazi questioned them while Aketo could only stand there, completely severed from his rage. Powerless.

In the floating peace, his mind still raced. He was grateful his brother stopped him. Ten soldiers manned the gate; they could not stand against them and survive. But mostly he seethed with loathing, not only for the soldiers but also for himself. What could he do here? Accept the murder of his kin and people as routine, or resist and in doing so consent to be killed himself?

Despite his brother’s requests to see the General, Throllo never emerged from the manor.

He understood finally that the khimaer who left Sher n’Cai to become soldiers hadn’t done so merely to escape. They’d done so to regain some measure of power, however small.

He could justify swallowing poison if it yielded power. If it