Page 71 of The Never List
Baydel’s elite enforcer,One, moves with a deadly graceas he crosses the room, focused on a concealed corner with another set of doors. In seconds, he’s back, his gloved fingers gripping the hair of a man as he drags him across the marble floor.
Every muscle in my body tenses as two Occuli follow behind the scene, their pitch-black eyes on me, green flames flickering in their hands, no doubt savoring every reaction of the man who’s flailing helplessly in One’s grip. They’ll write about it later for the royal post.
“Tell me, dear Rylee,” Baydel says, his demeanor completely changing with the Occuli’s presence. He gestures a hand to the man who is now on his knees, a black strip of cloth shoved into his mouth, muffling his pleas as One holds him by the roots of his hair. “If you were chosen by the Legends, if you were made mate and eventuallyqueen, what would you do in this situation?”
A test.
Another fucking test.
I swallow the knot in my throat, blinking at the scene. Waiting for him to explain further.
“This man broke the law,” Baydel continues.
Brooks studies the man intently, and Jullian crosses his arms where he still sits. Lucas pops another berry in his mouth, his eyes lighting up like this is the first entertainment he’s seen in a long time.
“Execution or life in the dungeons?” Baydel asks.
Kal’s fingers twitch in mine.
“What is his crime?” I manage to ask.
“Does it matter?” Baydel drops his hand to his side. “He broke the law.”
The Occuli turn their unblinking stares on me, theirpure black eyes somehow focusing on me. I’m used to their unnerving attention by now, but this situation is something else entirely. Baydel is testing me once again, and I feel like no matter what I answer, it’ll be wrong.
“Laws vary,” I say, forcing myself to concentrate. “So should the punishment. What is his crime?” I tip my chin ever so slightly, wanting the Occuli who will report on this later to not see an inch of my fear.
Baydel’s eyes narrow. “He’s a demi,” he says. “One who decided to use his powers to steal from us, keeping precious jewels that he found in the Ashlands for himself, his abilities allowing him to conceal them from the enforcers who collect goods at the end of every shift. One of his neighbors turned him in for a generous reward.”
Fear becomes a tangible, living thing in my chest.
The man in question looks down in shame, the truth of that crime evident all over his face.
“And if that isn’t enough,” Baydel continues, casually folding his hands before him, “he’s since tried to kill me with the little power he has.”
The man glares up, then thrashes out of One’s hold. He races toward Baydel, tied hands outstretched like he’ll strangle him. One snatches him back and forces him to his knees again.
Baydel grins triumphantly, never once flinching from the attempted attack.
“You see?” he asks, pointing at the man on the floor.
“What power does he have?” The question slips free before I can think to stop it. Each king is staring wide-eyed at me now, but even their scrutinizing looks can’t penetrate the terror lashing through my soul.
That man could beme.
I could be in One’s grip, desperate to be heard, to be freed.
“Why does it matter?” Baydel asks.
I’m shaking. My muscles are trembling from the adrenaline coursing through me, and there is no way Kal doesn’t feel it, doesn’t notice the shift in me. He leans deeper into my side—the slightest show of support. Goddess, he probably thinks I’m terrified of what’s to come.
If Baydel loves anything more than his power, it’s a good public execution, even if we’re the only audience.
I look directly at the Occuli, wanting them to quote me in the story but unsure if they will. “If his power poses atruethreat to the kings of Lumathyst, then he’s a threat to everyone in Lumathyst—”
“He’s not a threat, little bug,” Baydel says, then straightens as he glances at the Occuli, remembering the performancehestarted. He laughs, a light, dismissive laugh that makes my stomach turn. “No one is a threat to us.” He motions to the other kings. “But hetried. Now, what do you say? Execution or dungeons?”
My eyes drop to the man on the floor. Sweat beads on his brow, but he’s stopped trying to break One’s hold. I look to One, scanning the mask covering his face as I try to meet the cold eyes of the guard. He doesn’t bother looking at me, doesn’t bother doing much of anything beyond what he’s told.
