For a moment, I thought the Queen was going to lean on her throne to get a better view around me. She didn't. Apparently, eyeing me as I knelt was also an interesting spectacle.

Seeing their Queen distracted by conversation with the Imperial Commander, the executioners stopped before the next pass. Wrists, I believed, a finer work.

"We hear that you take your husband with you in battle to honor a troglodyte custom of his homeland, Ismar. Is that so?" the Queen asked me. Her tone was conversational, but malice flickered in the depth of her kohl-lined eyes.

I wasn't one of her subjects, but a chill crawled up my spine.

"It is so, Your Majesty." No point going on and on, while people writhed in pain not a hundred paces away from me.

"So shouldn't he," she slanted her eyes at Ondrey. I heard him bow behind my back. I didn't think he straightened from it, good man. "Shouldn't he be a paragon of his sex, brave to face blood on the battlefield?"

The litany of maddened screams churned my gut. It was hard to focus on Makeda's words, but she wasn't making a polite conversation. I had to choose every word carefully, despite my soul rebelling against it. I inserted Ondrey and me into this situation. It was up to me to see it end well.

"Your Majesty, a warrior's courage in battle is in pitching her—or his—life against another's will and against chance. It's a vulgar bravery of a fair fight, a hot-headed one.

"Witnessing blood and pain descending on an individual or on the whole people, withstanding it, resisting it, functioning wisely while it is afoot—that requires bravery of an elevated kind, the staunch resilience of nobility and Queenship."

And a stomach of swine, I added mentally. Swine gorged on anything.

At this moment, I spotted Taffiz' face in the courtiers' crowd. He didn't tower over those present like Ondrey and wore a woman's attire. His dress wasn't made from the priciest white fabric, but his cheeks made up for it, matching my fancy skirts.

The Queen is not friendly, he had warned me on the day we met in person. I sensed her hostility now. It came in suffocating waves. Must the frustrating man always be right?

"How very intriguing," the Queen said. "We would love to see this demonstration of mercenaries' courage."

I bowed, despite itching to invite her to ride out on the battlefield. In my opinion, it would do a world of good to any Queen to face her foes with a sword in hand at least once.

"You see, Commander, we had heard many tales about it."

When Queen Makeda paused, the entire Bhar paused, hanging on her every word. I caught myself before licking my lips. She had something in mind, some scheme, and I had just handed her a chance to set it in motion. That much was obvious, but what was it?

My skirts lost their bid to be whiter than Taffiz' cheeks. Only Yansara's moon now stood a chance to compare to him in pallor.

"We have another rebel in our dungeon, a perverted but powerful fighter. Our High Scribes promised that they could convert her to our side, but they had only succeeded in driving her mad.

"Now this warrior is too great a danger to our executioners, so we wanted to throw her into a pit with the lions and crocodiles. But if you would indulge our curiosity and show us this Imperial bravery in a fair match, we would love to see it. You, Commander, and your husband, fighting righteously side by side."

Taffiz squinted at me with a tiny negative shake of his head.

My mouth gaped as I thought furiously. Where was the trap?

"A warrior, no matter how corrupt, deserves a warrior's death in combat, isn't it so?" the Queen asked.

"Yes, Your Majesty!" I blurted out.

A pleased smile spread across her features. "I can command the next wheel to land on the rebels' necks. It would spare your husband's tender heart, while not robbing us of the satisfaction of seeing our enemies' death throes."

"I am honored to fight as your champion and so is my husband, Your Majesty," I replied, abandoning every other consideration. I hated and feared the Scorpia Cult, but I wasn't going to refuse the chance to stop this torture.

Taffiz closed his eyes tiredly.

Ondrey squeezed my fingers to show his agreement, mindful that it would have been out of turn for him to speak in the Queen's presence.

"Splendid!" I had an impression she barely restrained herself from clapping like a little girl.

At the queen's sign, the herald proclaimed the reduction of the sentence. I imagined relief on the contorted faces when the wheel rose over their necks, though they were probably too far gone to understand that the end came nearer.

"Praise the Queen for her mercy," the herald cried to the murmuring crowd.

Still on my knees, over my shoulder, I watched the metal rim hit the throats, ending the rebels' wretched lives. But the show had to go on. It was time for the plain wheels to shine. If I hadn't bought swift death, the executioners wouldn't have gone for the neck. They would have stopped after breaking the condemned' shoulders. They would have then laced the softened limbs through the spokes of each wooden wheel, lifted the dying rebels on the gibbet to rot until their deaths.

My intervention left their arms and shoulders intact, so the executioners had to tie the corpses to the wheels with ropes before putting them up. The honest citizens of Bhar and the souls of the executed could witness the justice done. The corpses would hang for weeks until the burial ritual freed their souls to plunge into the River Vash. May they drink oblivion and be reborn into a new and righteous life!

I looked at Peleth' lips, blackened by blood, and found Mythra's fang on its cord around my neck. Squeezing it in the palm of my hand till it hurt, I begged forgiveness for not killing Peleth in battle. And thanked Mythras for giving me a chance to rescue Parneres. Though, it wasn't just the Divine favor that helped me to keep Parneres safe. Taffiz did his part as well. And he was the last person I wanted to talk to that afternoon.

Alas, even though I raced back to the cliff-side villa in the skirts made for stately walks; even though Ondrey matched my speed with his long strides; even though I parted a seam from toe to thigh when mounting Breva, Taffiz had overtaken me.

My Scorpia ally was reclining on a couch in my bedroom, nursing a cup of wine. His slippers were off and the headscarf laid crumpled on the floor. Bold as brass, this one.

"Your Grandissima, I had warned you repeatedly to be wary of the Queen, and you played right into her hand," Taffiz upbraided me.

Ondrey charged at him with a roar. I wasn't sure what he had in mind, squashing Taffiz against the wall with the couch or strangling him, but Taffiz dodged. He jumped up and slipped sideways in one fluid motion, grasped Ondrey's wrist and deflected the bigger man's momentum away from himself.

After surprise wore off, Ondrey found his balance and glanced at me, ready to strike again.

"Leave him be. I think he has valuable information," I said softly.

"He always does! Look what comes of it!" Ondey huffed.

"Let's hear him out."

"If you wish." Ondrey resumed his position at my back. His arms glided up and down my arms, caressing. When they came to rest on my shoulders and didn't leave, I stirred with pleasure. Usually, Ondrey saved the touching for when we were alone. It was a wonderful change. I patted his hand, enjoying its warmth.

Taffiz' gaze darted to the corner of the room, then back to us. Finally, he settled his gaze at my forehead, which also pleased me.

"Since you profess to know Makeda's mind, go on, Taffiz. Explain what's going on and what trap I sprang." I waved my fingers through the air.

He found his cup on a side table. When he managed to deposit it there was a mystery to me. He took a sip and winced, as if the wine went sour while he escaped Ondrey. "The Queen hoped that the rebels would deliver her sovereign rule, independent of the Divine Empress' oversight. That's when Peleth gave Parneres up as a hostage. Then you rolled in with all the subtlety of an avalanche."

"Queen Makeda should have expected the Imperial response."

"The Empire is large and not every local tiff is attended to. This one did, so the Queen bided her time to see which side would exhaust another. She's reasonable."

"She didn't look reasonable today."

"Well... You were a thorn in her sandal, but she might have allowed you to leave peacefully anyway."

His glance lingered on the sandals I wore for the occasion. They had golden clasps and intricate lacing all the way up the calf. I nearly snapped my fingers to return his attention to the matter at hand, but he spoke up a hair before that.

"If only you didn't go from a hated foreign bully to a heroine of the commons overnight!"

I did what was in my contract. "People's love is fickle. They yearn for freedom one day, then once they taste poverty and lawlessness that comes with the weak governance, they want a sword arm to protect them like in the good old days."

"Precisely. And you cut an attractive figure during your Triumph. A woman in shining silver chainmail, like Yansara. You put the mighty Scorpia assassins in chains and marched them before your silver horse. Your husband rode next to you, the very image of a loyal husband from an epic poem."

All I remembered was being parched, deafened by the drums and fighting a pounding headache. But he had seen what he had seen. I wasn't going to dissuade him from it.

"Someone even wrote a song about you traveling to the Cursed city to save the helpless beauty from vicious assassins."

Ondrey scoffed into my ear. "I wonder how a bard came upon his material."

Taffiz rolled his eyes and hands toward the ceiling to show his befuddlement. The rumors spread throughout the world. The wide sleeves of his woman's garment slipped to the elbows, showing slim, flexible wrists. It brought his equally wiry midriff to my mind. Was it also flexible?

I cleared my throat. "So. The Queen hates my guts and wants to publicly humiliate me. She plans to stage a fight that Ondrey and I cannot win. Do you know who we'll be going up against?"

He told us.

By the time I went to stand on the balcony, twilight had fallen. Breeze cooled my face. The three of us had discussed the monster Makeda dug up and settled on a strategy. Forewarned is forearmed... still, I breathed in the air greedily, enjoying the velvet sky and the lights of the city. They appeared brighter to me, as things become when one is in mortal danger. That's why I loved danger.

Taffiz sauntered over. We stood exactly where we stood when he had introduced himself. He left the memory hanging in the air between us, rather than putting it in words. I had a feeling he knew that I remembered, because his eyes brightened too. Violet, as always.

"Your dagger, Ishmara," he asked.

And so two nights before fighting a rigged fight, I extended my most potent weapon to the assassin of an ancient cult. Hilt first.

He reached for it. "Remember, I have never been your enemy."

I chuckled. "No, never. Just a man who had confessed to making attempts on my life... but oh! You said you didn't mean it and that you were in a completely different ancient assassin cult!"

His hands closed around mine and the dagger. "When you put it that way... Don't put it that way!"

I heard Ondrey's steps coming toward us and released the dagger. "Don't fail me, Taffiz, or I'll get reborn as your worst nightmare and haunt your sleep."

His lips touched my ear softly. "I prefer a less dramatic way of sharing my bed with you."

He cleared the railing, and I bent over it to watch him blend with the shadows. How he lived this long while flaunting the social norms mystified me. However, I needed more than cheap thrills from him, more than the quiver in my loins, more than curiosity about Anastasia's experience with him.

He was to give me a killing weapon.