at one another, if we had to. We’d left Corbin, Zoltan, Petra, and the captain of the guards with Acheron and Danika, and part of me would’ve given anything to be a fly on the throne room’s wall. They were probably exchanging impressions of us. Petra was probably telling them about the similarities between our species, too.
If we’d been smart in our delivery of information, chances were that the Lord and Lady Supreme of Visio would suggest blood tests before we even brought it up, thus making it easier for us to mention the possibility of a day-walking cure.
“How many people live in the palace?” Esme asked as we stopped inside a massive trophy room. Its walls were covered with wooden shelves, on which hundreds of shiny awards, medals, and sculptural trophies had been displayed. We couldn’t see the writing on their plaques from here, but judging by the full suits of combat armor also exhibited here, along the walls, they probably had something to do with the tournaments Kalon had mentioned.
“Roughly around two thousand,” Valaine replied.
“How many of them—”
“One thousand Aeternae, approximately six hundred Rimians, and four hundred Naloreans.” Valaine cut Esme off before she could complete her follow-up question. I wondered if she’d already heard about our conversation with her father and the others on the welcoming committee, somehow. Word must’ve traveled fast.
“All of them servants?” I wondered.
Kalon shook his head. “No. There are noble families living here, part of the lord and lady’s court. When the rulers ascend to the throne, they’re given the opportunity to ask certain people to live with them. To keep them company. To make the crown feel a little less heavy, so to speak.”
“All who call the Nasani palace their home are the most fortunate of Visio,” Valaine said. “They never miss anything. The kitchen is always working; the pantries are permanently full. We have recreational activities, as well, along with unfettered access to the palace gardens. The lord and lady supreme open their home to those they deem worthy of such an honor.”
That sounded rather beautiful, actually. Maybe Petra was right. Maybe they had found some kind of balance between the conquerors and the conquered. I nodded at the trophies to my left. “What room is this, exactly? What does it celebrate?”
“Ah. It’s where the seven dynasties keep their most prized trophies from the Blood Arena,” Kalon said, lighting up like the sun. “Of course, the winners can take them home, as well, but out here they can be admired by palace visitors all the time. I’ve brought all of mine here.”
“And now he’s going to show us how many he’s won,” Valaine muttered, rolling her eyes. It earned her a scowl from Kalon, but it didn’t seem hostile. Judging by the looks they exchanged, these two were close. I wondered how close, exactly.
“This entire thing, here,” Kalon said, pointing at a tall glass case with more than a dozen trophies and medals neatly displayed on its shelves. “About a hundred years’ worth. I keep the rest at home, though I’ll have to expand the room. I’m running out of space.”
“Yes, he keeps winning.” Valaine sighed, not at all impressed.
Her blasé demeanor made me want to laugh, but I worried it might offend Kalon. So far, he’d seemed the most candid among the nobles with whom we’d had meaningful interactions.
“At least I’m proud of my achievements. You hide yours in the basement,” Kalon retorted, raising an eyebrow at her.
“You participate in these deadly tournaments, as well?” I asked, my voice shakier than expected, prompting me to clear my throat, hoping the next sentence that came out of my mouth would sound a lot better. Valaine seemed to have this effect on me.
“All first children of the seven dynasties fight in the Blood Arena,” Valaine replied.
“And you’re a first child, yourself,” Sofia said. Valaine nodded. “Do you have any siblings?”
She shook her head. “No. My mother died when I was born, and my father has not had the heart to remarry since.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. “How long were they together?”
“About fifty thousand years.” Valaine sighed, staring at one of Kalon’s trophies. “This one you got last year, didn’t you?”
Kalon nodded. “The year I almost got myself truly and irreparably killed.”
“If you were the first child… what exactly is the birth rate here?” I asked, unwilling to let her change the subject so easily. I could smell avoidance from a mile away.
She gave me a dark stare. “Petra didn’t give