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And then, Damon is alone.

He does not sleep. He sits in a chair by the window and watches the sky and the dark waters of The Gleam. He thinks of Lyr. Of Lyr’s concerns something would happen at the Rose Palace. Of his assertion, Damon would never be made Warden of Vashti.

When the darkness begins to turn to a lighter shade, he remembers something.

Powerful men plot against you, dark is coming for you, and when that darkness swallows you come back to me. There will be a great trial you must face. When it comes, petition me so I can save your life and with it the lives of all Azuria.

He goes to the palace guards at his door.

“I wish to speak to the Immurite.”

The guards look at each other. One says, “Master Damon we are bound by oath not to allow you to leave this room until it is time for the Justice.”

Damon shakes his head. “The right of a man of royal blood to consult the Immurite is a holy pillar of Zai. You cannot deny me an audience.”

The guards look unsure what to do.

“You may accompany me. You have my word of honour as The One Man Army that this is no ruse.”

They still seem reluctant, but they agree. The guards walk with Damon through the corridors, silent in the early morning. There are only two of them. Two guards, even unarmed as he is, would not be impossible to overpower. He has done it before.

If he did that, he would have to then make it out of the palace. But he knows this place. He doesn’t know all its secrets but he knows some. He could fight these guards, he thinks, as they walk down the stone steps from his chambers in the tower, he could fight and knock them down, steal a weapon from one of them and run. Find one of the old tunnels. The one under the southern hall that leads to a secret garden, or the one in the winery that goes out into the orchards. Or the other one, the one Lukas used to escape, that leads down to the Gleam.

But he cannot consider such a move, because he cannot consider leaving Lyr to his death.

Down through the corridors across the courtyard to the Sarelik Temple and into the chamber of the Immurite. He leaves the guards at the foot of the steps and takes the white stone from the brides. He walks through each of the twelve chambers. There are only a few priestesses present, arranging the day's flowers and offerings to Zai and his twelve prophets. Damon takes a moment to ask for a blessing from the prophet of flame.

When he reaches the sacred chamber of the Immurite he walks in and kneels at the window. The hatch is pulled back a moment later, revealing the iron grill.

“Damon Darekul,” says the sweet soft voice of the Immurite.

“Holy Immurite, I seek advice from the hand of Zai to your hand to mine.”

“You do,” she says, sharply. “And why should I give it when you did not take my advice before?”

“Because I did not send Lyr away?”

“Because you did not resist him.”

“I did not. I have lain with him and I have tried to plan a way to take him to my bed forever. I thought I had found a way to make myself safe in my sin.”

“But you did not think you could be truly safe with the nature of your heart until you wanted to be safe in order to commit your sins with this slave.”

“That is true, yes.”

“This slave is special to you?”

“Yes.”

“And now you return to my chamber. Are you here to boast of your sins or has something else brought you here, Damon Darekul?”

“I fear I have lost him. My beloved whore has murdered my brother Prince Endrew at a Pleasure Night.”

“Did you instruct him to do so?”

“No. It was accidental.”

“Your slave was armed at a Pleasure Night?”