Though the few surviving priests had more work than they could handle, King Markos and his queen had been given their final resting places, with the army arrayed in front of the Temple of Balal and the black-robed magus chanting sorrowfully as they were interred. Dion’s parents would now sleep together in the deep royal crypt beneath the temple. He vowed to himself that his mother’s secret would die with her.

Nikolas had requested that he be alone for the burial of his wife. Dion had tried to provide the right words as his brother exited the Temple of Edra, but Nikolas would not be comforted. The new king of Xanthos still wouldn’t let anyone into the Royal Palace.

Despite the scene of carnage at the battlefield, already the bodies of the fallen Xanthians were growing few and far between as their families gave them their last rites and buried them with honor. Dion had spoken with Zachary and the eldren with him, who were waiting outside the city walls. Fearful for the fate of the ark, the eldran had asked Dion when Nikolas would lead the army to Phalesia. Dion had told him soon.

But he was worried.

Dion’s own emotions were ragged, but he needed his brother to keep going, just for a little longer. Chloe would by now be in Phalesia. The Ilean warships were on their way.

Finally, Dion could wait no more.

He left the agora and traveled to the palace’s main gates. As he approached he could see the courtyard, the gardens, and the servant’s quarters and stables. The gates were open, but guarded by six soldiers.

As Dion walked toward them their spears came up and their leader, a veteran soldier with thick black eyebrows, raised a warding hand to hesitantly bar the way.

‘Let me see my brother,’ Dion said softly.

‘He is now the king,’ the soldier said, uncertain. ‘That is how you should refer to him.’

‘He is also my brother, and a soldier. If what I think is true, though I hope to the gods it isn’t, I am now his heir.’

The guard scratched his chin and then nodded to his fellows. The spears came up and the men drew aside.

Dion crossed the courtyard and entered the palace.

He went immediately for the broad stone steps leading up to the first floor. Trepidation in every footstep, he climbed them one after the other. He emerged into the banqueting hall, where little Lukas had been proudly given his name, scanning the wide room but seeing that the hearths were cold and the hall was empty.

He glanced at the Flower Terrace. His mother’s favorite place would now haunt him forever.

Dion walked through the corridor and entered the audience chamber. He slowly approached the high-backed wooden chair that had been his father’s throne, and was now his older brother’s.