They marched her out of the prison, along rough corridors and through a hall filled with dozens of eating soldiers. Seeing that it was daylight – late afternoon, she guessed – she recognized something of where she was, and inadvertently glanced outside to the paved section with spiky plants. She shivered when she saw that the stake was gone.

She soon found herself climbing steps and then approaching the palace’s main entrance. Crossing the courtyard, she took note of the external gates, located close to the entrance leading to the throne room.

The guard then twisted Chloe’s arm further, making her gasp with pain. She pretended to collapse, making the two guards work together to prop her up.

The guard holding her wrist cursed. ‘Walk, girl. Don’t make us drag you.’

Chloe nodded as she grimaced. She drew in a deep breath and put one step in front of the other, carefully, walking like her father when he was trying not to appear drunk. The other guard grunted.

They led her around a corner and then down a corridor, finally approaching the throne room.

Chloe saw that all the courtiers were present. The short lord in orange robes who had been her ally when she’d first given tea to the sun king now scowled at her. The dark-eyed magus in yellow nodded smugly.

Then she saw something that nearly made her stop. Triton turned as he watched her approach, and he was unguarded. Revealed in the light, the missing eye made him appear ugly and sinister.

At Solon’s right hand stood Kargan, arms folded over his barrel chest. His mop of oiled black hair and curled beard still didn’t come close to covering his broad, swarthy face. He wore yet another sumptuous silk robe, this one yellow and white.

Chloe’s gaze went to Solon.

He showed none of his previous pain, and although his eyes were still shadowed, they now burned with the strength of fanaticism. Despite his illness he dominated the room, his presence filling the space as he looked down from his throne.

Then Chloe realized something new. His golden throne was gone. He sat on a new throne, bigger than the last, but this time made of ornate ebony.

His throne had gone to feed the pyramid’s hunger. He knew he was dying. Chloe was glad for it; she only hoped he died sooner. She couldn’t believe she’d once felt sympathy for him.

‘Chloe of Phalesia,’ Solon said. ‘The eldran king tells me you were trying to convince him to side with your people against me.’