At Level Eight, in the Celestial-King Palace, Onneas, overlord of the Fourth Hall, paced beneath crystal vaulting that glittered like cages of starlight. Every measured step echoed her determination to find a way to pull Jared back from peril.
Isabel burst through the chamber doors, breath quick, fists tight around her skirts. “Ms. Dusko, Enaricus has arrived with a full escort. They’re already standing at the main gate. Shall I allow them inside?”
“What does he want?” Onneas asked, her voice colder than the polished marble underfoot. A faint line carved itself between her brows.
Enaricus possessed his own lavish pavilion. Since the Celestial King had departed for level nine, entrusting the palace to Onneas, no other lord was free to wander these halls. For Enaricus to show up now, escorted and unannounced, could only herald trouble.
Isabel wet her lips, then added, “He claims he’s here to discuss urgent matters with you.”
“Very well… Come, let’s meet him.” Onneas turned on her heel, gathering Isabel and a handful of Celestial Guards. Steel boots struck in unison as the small party swept toward the palace gate.
Beyond the threshold, Enaricus waited, flanked by dozens of his disciples and armored guards. Their collective swagger pressed against the air like a storm front.
Enaricus’ face was a mask of shadowed greed, eyes calculating. Behind him, every follower wore the same smug certainty, as though victory were already signed and sealed.
“Enaricus, you arrive with an army here. State your purpose.” Onneas’ words cut clean and sharp. Her spine stayed straight, her gaze unwavering—unyielding even before the wall of bodies that outnumbered her own.
Enaricus stepped forward, his stare like a torch boring through her armor. “Ms. Dusko, rumor says you recently led guards to level six without authorization and returned with many of them wounded. Is that true?”
His tone presumed guilt, as if he had already pried the secret from her soul.
Onneas’ heartbeat slowed.
He came prepared, searching for a spark to ignite…
But her voice remained even. “Whatever missions I lead are no concern of yours. I had my reasons.”
“Reasons?” Enaricus let out a short, cutting laugh. “You rule the Fourth Hall, yet abandon level eight to rush to level six, over a single man. You broke palace protocol and left your guards bloodied. Tell me, Onneas, how will you pay that debt?”
He magnified every misstep, fanning discontent among the surrounding guards to serve his hidden agenda.
“Are you interrogating me, Enaricus? Remember, the Celestial King left this palace in my charge. I hold authority to deploy the Celestial Guards as I see fit.”
She knew all too well that Enaricus coveted the throne the Celestial King was safeguarding.
“Authority?” Enaricus echoed, lips curling.
Greed flashed across his eyes, as though the palace treasures had already changed hands.
“You’re trying to seize the Celestial King’s palace the moment his back is turned. For Jared Chance, you risked our guards’ lives. Do you have an affair with him, Onneas? Have you forgotten that a woman of our clan may never consort with an outsider?”
“If Jared has already had his way with you, then your body is defiled. A sullied woman is unworthy of being a celestial, much less the title of the leader of a hall,” Enaricus said, every syllable oozing calculated malice.
He pivoted smoothly, pitching his voice to the crowd. His words, dressed in the sacred language of clan law, were meant to stir the onlookers until contempt turned into fire.
“How dare you!” Onneas shouted, the cry ripping from her throat before she realized it had formed.
The instant the accusation hit her, fury flooded her veins. She had expected many things from Enaricus, but never such shameless slander delivered in open daylight.
