Empire of Sand

The stone corridors were less innocuous at night. The day’s trade had come to its end, the locals retreating to their homes for the evening. The regular rotation of guards paced the walkways, humming to themselves or fighting the gentle coaxing of sleep. William had been assigned to the barracks on the opposite end of the property, but he seemed to be acquainted with the narrow passages that lie between his resting place and mine. Perhaps I didn’t give him enough credit. He’d dodged the night watch adeptly, as if he’d counted their movements by the second.

I waited in the shadowed alcoves, as we’d agreed over the evening meal. My stomach felt unnaturally full; even my limbs had grown heavier. I considered skipping breakfast to make up for my overindulgence tonight. After witnessing firsthand the opponents I could face during the Trials, I couldn’t afford to be slow, too.

I held my breath as one of the watchmen paced past me, only a few feet away from where I hid. He paused and listened to the howling wind, hands gripping his spear in front of him. My heart rabbited in my chest, and for an awful moment I thought he was going to spot me crouched there behind him. William gave a small bird call—the signal we’d pre-arranged—and the guard craned his neck, listening closely.”

Keeping close to the walls, I traced the shadows to the next set of passages. William waited for me there, looking less pristine than he had the first day we’d become acquainted.

“You ready?” he whispered.

I suspected he’d had no real need of the question as he gripped my hand, and we stole across the shadows. He’d simply needed an excuse to draw closer to me, his breath dancing along the nape of my neck and the shell of my ear. I suppressed a shiver as his strong hand gripped mine, towing me along like accomplice to a crime. Was our connection imagined or true? Was it possible I was coping with my loneliness by creating a makeshift romance? Even when he flirted with other ladies, it never seemed genuine. His charm was a façade with which he’d been well-acquainted, but a façade nonetheless. The real William seemed to crave adventure as much as I did.

Neither of us knew for sure what the punishment would be for prowling through the royal grounds like we were. Technically, contestants were permitted to come and go as they pleased—but this was something else. We weren’t going into town; we were going to the equestrian stables, which were considered a part of the palace grounds and strictly prohibited after hours. Only paying guests were invited, and only during the day. The stables were rumored to house the Emperor’s horses. Exclusively. The Emperor was jealous in all things, it seemed—even his horses.

“Do you suppose they’ll kill us if we’re caught?” I asked.

I tried not to sound craven, but if I was going to die, I’d much rather do it in service of something better than a midnight jaunt to the stables.

We’d cleared the watchmen and the narrow corridors. The grass between us and the stables was perfectly green and soft. The air was sweeter than it had been back in the confines of the barracks, and the skies lay open in a vast cosmic blanket. I drew the night into my lungs, savoring its freedom. I felt giddy all of the sudden; perhaps it was because I was experiencing a new city far from home. Maybe it was William’s hand on mine.

The stables lay at the base of the hill. We crept closer, keeping our heads low. Horses were currency no matter what part of the empire you lived in, and the stables here prided themselves on their security. Protected by a towering stone wall, glimpses through cracks in the stone revealed dozens of neatly kept stalls with swaying horse tails in each. Across from the stalls, a wooden cabin stood at right angles to the stalls—servants’ quarters, by the looks of it. The windows were dark, and the torches mounted outside had been snuffed out. William and I listened closely, ears pressed against the stone, straining to hear the footsteps of a night watchman or some errand boy sent on a late-night mission. The grounds were silent except for the soft chirping of crickets and a snort here and there coming from the stables.

William pulled me closer and breathed instructions into my ear. I held still as his lips caressed the shell of my ears and his words danced across my skin. His proximity was intoxicating. I could only image what Mama would have said if she’d known what I was up to now. Or what Mayven would have done.

I shook off thoughts of my brother and followed William past the main gates. The iron framework glinted in the moonlight, barricaded with locks as heavy as I was. Trusting my accomplice, I followed William around a corner and past a large tree, nearly tripping over its gnarled roots. William pointed up toward the canopy and braced his hands down low.

“We’re climbing?” I whispered.

William’s face came alive with a mischievous grin, and my heart fluttered all over again. This seemed foolish, even to me, given that William had paid to lodge our horses here. If he wished to visit them, he’d only need to return tomorrow. But this wasn’t about visiting the horses. This was about experiencing these stolen moments together. When I considered it now, I realized how lonely I’d been without him around.

I set my right foot in his hands and let him hoist me up to the lowest-hanging branch. I grabbed onto it and heaved myself up, scraping my knees in the process. I continued to climb as high as where the branches met the stone wall, listening for William’s grunts behind me as he made his own progress. Moments later we sat perched on the same sturdy branch, overlooking the vast expanse of the stables, bathed in moonlight and smelling of sweet jasmine.

“See? There’s Birdie,” he whispered, pointing at my horse. Birdie’s stall was beside William’s horse, Lenora.

“She looks good,” I murmured.

“She misses you,” he told me.

I leaned my head against the bark of the tree, feeling its rough edges digging into my flesh. I knew once I pulled away, there would be a perfect imprint on my skin, but the marks would be the only evidence of what I’d done.

“Do you miss your family?” he asked after a time.

I blinked away the tears that smarted behind my eyelids.

“Not at all. You?”

William snorted.

“You’re a dreadful liar,” he teased.

“Yes. I miss my older brother the most.”

William’s eyebrows climbed his forehead.

“You’ve an older brother? Then why isn’t he—”

“He was going to,” I finished. “But Mama . . . she needs him. With our father dead, Mayven is the only one to carry on the family name. I couldn’t let him risk his life.”

William and I resumed our comfortable silence as the crickets played their nocturnal melody.

“Ash, why did you have to come here?”

I blinked over at him, uncertain if it had been a question or an accusation.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

William’s brow furrowed.

“Have you seen the other contenders? They’re poor. Most of them come from outlying territories like mine. This is the chance of a lifetime.”

William shook his head in frustration.

“You told me yourself you’ve little respect for the Emperor. Why risk your life to serve him?”

I smiled.

“I didn’t say 'little respect.’ I said I had none,” I corrected. “And I’m not risking my life to serve a man I’ve never met. I’m risking my life to serve my family.”

“Maybe he wears the mask to hide some hideous deformity,” William conjectured.

I laughed a little too loudly, and William chuckled and covered my lips with his hand to mute the sound. We waited there in the tree, breathing a sigh of relief when no one came to investigate. When I looked up, William’s eyes bore into mine, hot and conflicted.

“You’re nothing but trouble, do you know that?” he whispered.

Removing his hand, he closed the distance between us and pressed his perfect lips to mine.