Page 47 of The Concubine King
Poyut sighed.“Follow me.”
Inside the wide halls were more columns, holding the ceiling from the center.The floor was polished marble and the walls were the same material as the columns, which was the material that made up the palace.It occurred to Ethyr that the temple, palace, and this building must have been the oldest ones in the city.They were built from a cruder material that wasn’t as pure white as most of the other buildings.
Poyut started down the right side.Tapestries filled the walls, depicting more legends like the ones in his room.Here and there between tapestries were pedestals holding busts or miniature statues.The people they depicted were unfamiliar to Ethyr.According to Poyut, they were made in the likeness of great officials, past and present.
Occasionally along the sides of the corridor stood a guard, who didn’t acknowledge them.Ethyr had initially thought all the guards wore the same uniform, and they almost did.All wore sturdy sandals with sensible tunics, their forms a bit bulky from what Ethyr had discerned was some kind of armor underneath.But their swords, in the scabbards attached to their leather belts, had different colored cloth wrapped around their hilts.Originally he had thought they were randomly colored, but he had noticed that all palace guards, Poyut included, had hilts wrapped in red and gold.The guards in the forum had blue hilts.And he remembered the one who had found him on the side of the road had had a green and yellow hilt.He was sure the colors meant something—ranking, most likely.But he didn’t have a clue how the guards were ranked, so it wasn’t exactly helpful.
They didn’t make it far before they were accosted by two people walking up the corridor.
“Your Divinity!”one exclaimed, stopping short.“Whatever are you doing here?”
He glanced at Poyut.She stood with her hands behind her back and chin down, like she did with Yorith.He assumed he couldn’t count on her help now.He opened his mouth, then closed it to stifle the “uh” that almost popped out.It was habit from his lessons now.
“I wanted to see the administration forum,” he answered after a second.“This is where all important decisions are discussed and made, correct?”
“Most of them,” the woman agreed.Her voice sounded familiar.He had to think she, both of them really, had been at the inauguration feast, so he would have met them.Which meant nothing to him, because even if he could discern who they were without masks of paint, he hardly remembered any names or titles from that night, weeks ago.Though he was certain he hadn’t heard the name ‘Lyrian.’
“Would you like us to show you around?”the other woman asked.
“No, thank you,” he said quickly.“Poyut is showing me.”
“Poyut?”She looked genuinely confused, concerned almost, glancing around as though looking for someone.Ethyr, just as confused, awkwardly pointed to Poyut standing right beside him.The woman blinked at her like she hadn’t seen her until that second.
“Your guard?”she scoffed.“A palace guard doesn’t know the forum like we do, Your Divinity.There’s no use relying on one.”
Ethyr stood silent for a moment, taken aback.He hadn’t expected derision, not directed towards Poyut.She was such a beacon in his life, it was disorienting to hear her service dismissed so flippantly.It took him a second to regain his bearings.
“No,” he said again, colder.“Thank you.I prefer my guard’s company.”He brushed past them, indifferent to their shocked offense.
Poyut strode beside him.When they were far enough away she leaned over to whisper.“That was the head of the treasury, Alania, and Justice Malor.You don’t want to get on their bad sides, Ethyr.”
“Why not?”
“They’re important and powerful people.”
“Isn’t everyone here?”
“Well… yes…”
“Then I don’t see what difference it makes.I couldn’t let them come with us anyway.”
Poyut tried to stifle her sigh but Ethyr heard it.
“Here.”She stopped by a door, painted white like all the others, but this one had a bronze plate on it featuring a hawk—the symbol of Catocus.Poyut rapped her knuckles politely on the wood.
“What is it?”a sharp voice called from inside.
Poyut opened the door and stepped aside, bowing her head.“Sir.”
A man looked up from behind a desk, and Ethyr was momentarily stunned.He had been expecting someone closer to Yorith in age and appearance, but the man before him couldn’t have been older than forty, and looked rather a lot like an older Mikel.The copper blond hair, soft brown eyes, strong jaw, and smattering of freckles across his face held Ethyr’s tongue.
Lyrian stood in a hurry.“Your Divinity.”He looked as surprised as Ethyr.“My apologies, I had no idea you were planning a visit here.”
His nose was different.Wider, and crooked where it must have been broken at one point.And his eyebrows weren’t as angled, his eyes not endearingly mischievous.Ethyr grasped desperately onto the differences to pull himself out of a stupor.
He cleared the lump in his throat.“N-no, it is me who should apologize.I know this is… unexpected.”
Lyrian watched him a second more, then gestured emphatically.“Come in, come in!To what do I owe this pleasure, Your Divinity?”
