The Scorched Throne

VI - Adonis

The barracks blur as I lean up against the wall, absently spinning and flipping a short dagger in my hand. My too-small ceremonial armor pokes uncomfortably into the muscles of my back, which still ache from training. I tip my head back, for once wishing Romulus were here if only to loosen the straps and save me from the boredom of the conversation I'm in.

I've never been a good listener; I try, of course, but after so long of chatting about the food in the mess hall and the newest court drama, the world starts to blur and my thoughts start to spiral inward. It's the opposite when something catches my interest. I've spent ages crowded in libraries before on my off days, devouring every book on a subject I possibly could. Once, it was the history of potion-making. Another time, when the Imperial Library's cat decided to join me, it was myth-legends about cats. It's the same with conversations, even; if the person I'm talking to is engaging enough, I could sit and listen intently for days. I imagine trying to listen to Romulus talk about himself for days and almost laugh out loud.

As if I summoned him by daring to even think his name, Romulus steps up to the group. The others wave hello to him and part as he walks up to me, narrowly avoiding my spinning dagger.

He swerves out of the way to avoid the blade, throwing me a mock salute. "Hey, Don—"

"Do not. I would even rather you call me sergeant all the time like the general does." I grin anyways.

He returns a crooked smile, but it melts into a frown as he notices what I'm wearing. "Celis, couldn't they have gotten you some bigger armor? There has to be at least one more oversize angel to have ever been in the Celan army. I didn't even notice when I was tightening it..." He mumbles something incoherently, the proper fit of armor having been drilled into our heads since we were old enough to wear it.

The uncomfortable poking is relieved a second later, the leather straps slackening slightly around my shoulders. I nod, rubbing out the knots that are now worse. "Thank you."

He claps me on the back. He's almost as tall as I am, but can never manage to move me. "Have fun!" he says as he walks off, knowing how often I end up hating these kinds of events.

"I won't!" I call back.

I attempt to entertain myself by examining the barracks for entrances, exits, and spy-holes as we've been trained. Three arched doorways that could be used for either, and there are four spy-holes I can see without moving the bunks lining the walls. I count how many total soldiers there are, then how many men, then how many women. Checking, double-checking, triple-checking. The seeking and recording, the mental rhythm and ease of it soothes me and distracts from the memories always stalking beneath my thoughts, like panthers under tall, golden grasses.

When it is time to make our way to the ball, Romulus catches up trails behind me as we walk through twisting white stone corridors, scattered with buttresses and statues tucked in alcoves, punctuated by grandiose rooms.

The word does not do the spaces justice. They're more like caverns, but brighter and slightly less cold. The ballroom is another such space, lit by flickering candles that float by enchantments. The faceted glass dome above filters and reflects the vibrant sunset hues, washing the space in reds and yellows from above. More white arches section off a curved walkway around against its rim, leading gently out to the attached outdoor spaces, which overlook the lake. Masterful paintings depicting landscapes from each of the kingdoms line the space between; from the free white sails of Vaporean pirate ships to the iridescent towers and waterfalls of Pearlspire, sirens leaping through, and the rippled sands of Sitoan oases.

We check everywhere for possible threats and find nothing, so General Lemaure officially excuses us for the night. The guards who already work at the castle will be posted everywhere, so our services are not needed. Most of the soldiers do not return to their rooms, opting to stay in their ceremonials for the night instead of changing.