Raj Ahten leaned forward in his saddle, moving ever so lightly. From so far away, his face was no larger in her field of vision than a sparkling bit of quartz sand glittering on a beach; she imagined him beautiful. He seemed young. He seemed fair. He wore his armor more lightly than another man might wear his clothes, and Iome watched him in wonder. It was rumored that he had endowments of brawn from thousands of men. If not for fear of breaking his bones, he could leap the walls, slice through an armored man as if slicing through a peach.

In battle he would be nearly invincible. With his endowments of wit—drained from hundreds of sages and generals—no swordsman could take him by surprise. His endowments of metabolism would let him move through the courtyard, dodging between startled guards, an unstoppable blur. With enough endowments of stamina, he could withstand almost any blow in battle.

For all intents and purposes, Raj Ahten was no longer even a human. He’d become a force of nature.

One intent on subduing the world.

He needed no army to back him, no force elephants or shaggy frowth giants to batter down the palace gates. No nomen to scale the walls. No flameweavers to set the city’s roofs aflame.

They were all minor terrors, distractions. Like the ticks that infested a giant’s fur.

“We can’t fight,” her father whispered. “Sweet mercy, we can’t fight.”

Beside her, Gaborn’s breath came ragged, and he moved so close that Iome could feel the warmth of him beside her face.

Iome felt disconnected from her body as she simply watched the events unfold below. People were running to the courtyard, trying to press close to the new lord, their Lord, who would destroy them all.

Iome feared Raj Ahten as she feared death; yet she also found that she welcomed him. The power of his Voice made her welcome him.

Prince Gaborn Val Orden said softly, “Your people don’t have the will to resist. My regrets to House Sylvarresta—to your father, and to you—for the loss of your kingdom.”

“Thank you,” Iome said, her voice weak, far away.

Gaborn turned to King Sylvarresta. “My lord, is there anything I can do?” Gaborn was looking at Iome. Perhaps he hoped to take her from here, to take her away.

Iome’s father turned to the Prince, still in shock. “Do? You are but a boy? What could you possibly do?”

Iome’s mind raced. She wondered if Gaborn could help her escape. But, no, she couldn’t imagine it. Raj Ahten would know she was in the castle. The royals were marked. If Gaborn tried to free her, Raj Ahten would hunt them down. The most Gaborn might accomplish would be to save himself. Raj Ahten did not know that Prince Orden was on the grounds.