Praetorian Rising, стр. 103
The High King had been a sight to behold, and it was a bit shocking to see him at first. He was beyond tall, with a charismatic smile bolstered by the deepest dimples she'd ever seen on a man. Thick black hair tousled perfectly over his dark olive skin, the messy array of curls the only mark of wildness. There was no crown atop his head, but it didn't diminish the air of power he managed to exude in his posture and undeniable confidence.
He wore a fitted black doublet, gold threading, and fixtures sewn into the fabric blinking brilliantly across his chest and shoulders as he moved toward her. Black breeches clung to his legs and thighs, his sturdy leather boots shined to perfection, but obviously worn, the scuffed edges a mere hint of their constant use. A thick gold necklace sat over his chest, spanning the length of his shoulders, the obsidian and sapphire stones flickering with movement. It was hard not to stare, though Emma kept her eyes cast downward as best she could. Despite the ebony depths of his eyes, his attractive features brought her attention up to his face again and again. He was an impossible man not to stare at, and despite her fear of punishment, she felt herself smiling back at him as he offered her a hand in welcome.
Bowing as gracefully as possible, Emma leaned toward his proffered hand and kissed the hefty ruby ring sitting on his left pinky. She'd always wondered about the rumors that he was in hiding, but he graciously greeted her at the front door of his throne room, leading her himself to the sitting room she was now occupying. His conversational tone had been pleasant, his questions simple, his smile divine. The High King offered her a cup of rose tea, which she'd gracefully accepted while trying to keep her giddiness to a minimum. As she sipped the delicious concoction and listened to his lilting voice, she didn't think there was anything wrong with what he was asking her to do, especially as he was offering to pay her for her services.
"Take this list, my dear, and in your perfect calligraphy I want you to write each name on its own slip of paper and put them into their respective envelopes."
An Equestrian stood just outside the small room, but the High King had closed the doors, giving Emma an excellent opportunity to take in her stunning surroundings without being watched. There was an open bay window overlooking Black Bottom Lake, and Emma peeked up from her desk to admire the way the structures of Alpha Quarter glittered in the late morning sun. It was beautiful, and, as a native of Delta Village, Emma had never thought her stars would lead her to such a breathtaking moment. She shifted in the soft, red leather chair and pulled her utensils closer, narrowing her eyes in a moment of intense concentration.
The High King had requested her presence because of her beautiful penmanship and was offering her family a year's amount of Moon Tax prepaid. Her entire family would be able to eat everything they gathered and grew for a whole year. It seemed too good to be true. She had been chosen by the High King.
With a smile on her rose painted lips, she dipped her metal-tipped pen into the vial of deep emerald ink and got to work with enthusiasm.
It wasn't until her eyes had skimmed the twelfth name on the list that her pen stilled and her mouth seized up. Her eyes flipped from the record before her to others pushed to the side to make sure she was reading it right. One paper had two-hundred names listed and was called Families to Attend. A second list was labeled Audience Attendees and Possible Volunteers, which had over one-thousand names listed. On the last record, there were only twenty names written down in scrawled black lettering. The stark label read: Aspera Munera - Praetorian Trials.
Twelve lines down from the top she read the name Luke Donner—her twin brother. It couldn't be true; it wasn't possible. Emma wasn't an idiot; she knew full well that being inside the walls of the High Court was an honor as much as it was a danger. She needed to get the job done and vacate the premises with her note of reward snug in hand, but to do that, she had to write down every name listed on a slip of paper and drop it into its coordinating envelope.
Her pen remained frozen until the entirety of green ink held in the feed had dripped all over the tabletop. A flash of flame from the shifting wood pieces in the crackling hearth nearby sparked an idea in her head, and before she knew what she was doing, she'd taken the envelope with her brother's name on it and thrown it into the fire. She grabbed a blank envelope from the stack and carefully began to write a different name on the back, but before she could finish, the heavy wooden door behind her opened.
Fear stilted her movements, though she tried to appear natural as she politely turned to greet them.
"Hello," Emma squeaked, swallowing down the lump in her throat as she saw who'd entered.
"Why would you do that, my dear?" the High King said, his tone clear and controlled. "Each and every name chosen for the Praetorian Trials is done so carefully, specifically, and with clear intent. To toss aside a single name is to disrespect the kingdom. Are you