Marry, Breed, Obey—Or Else...

The Mother returned to her litter, her veils swallowing her once more as her servants rushed to arrange the curtains around her. The golden construct swayed slightly as she settled inside, and with a sharp command from her attendant, the procession moved forward, continuing its climb up Aegon's High Hill.

Jo barely had time to think before two gold cloaks closed in on her. Rough hands seized her arms, jerking her upward before she could steady herself. Pain shot through her body, a deep throb that pulsed from her bruised ribs to her aching limbs. The impact of her fall, the sharp sting of her temple—she felt it all now.

She groaned, part frustration, part pain, but she didn't resist. What was the point? They were taking her to the Red Keep whether she wanted to go or not.

One of the men, his breath thick with the stench of stale wine, let his free hand drift down her chest, fingers skimming across the bandages she had wrapped tight against her body.

"They're small," he sneered, his fingers pressing against her ribs. "But they're there."

Jo stiffened, trying to jerk away from him, but the second gold cloak only tightened his grip.

"When the Gracious Mother is done with you," the second man whispered, his lips curling into a slow, predatory smile, "be sure to give us a visit, love." His fingers slid down her spine, cupping her rear in a firm squeeze before she could pull away. "We'd love to show our… appreciation."

Jo clenched her jaw, forcing herself to keep moving. She couldn't afford to react—not now, not here. These were the Emperor's men, and if they wanted to make her life worse, they easily could. She had bigger problems than a pair of lecherous guards.

She bit down on her anger, swallowing it like she had swallowed hunger and pain a hundred times before.

The Red Keep loomed before her, its massive red-stone walls rising above the city like a beast carved from the mountain itself. Black banners bearing the three-headed dragon snapped in the wind, an ever-present reminder of the family's power. Beyond the gates, the sprawling fortress stretched high into the sky, a maze of towers and shadowed passageways and hidden dangers.

The servant with the whip stood waiting just inside the entrance. He smirked at her disheveled appearance, clearly amused by her struggle. If he had seen how the gold cloaks had touched her, he gave no indication that he cared.

Jo straightened her clothes, shifting her shoulders as if she could shake away their lingering hands. Around her, red cloaks stood at attention, watching her with wary eyes. These weren't the city's gold cloaks—these were the Emperor's own guards. No running now.

"The Mother awaits you," the servant said smoothly. "I shall take you to her."

Jo had no choice but to follow.

She stepped into the castle, and the air changed.

The Red Keep was nothing like the streets she knew. Here, the scent of perfumed oils and polished wood replaced the stink of unwashed bodies and filth. The cool stone beneath her feet was smooth, worn down by centuries of wealth and power.

As they moved deeper inside, Jo found herself unable to suppress her awe. The halls stretched high above her, tapestries woven with gold thread depicting dragons in flight. Massive chandeliers hung from vaulted ceilings, their crystal fixtures casting shattered light across the polished floors. Everywhere she looked, the sigil of House Trayan loomed—on banners, on carved doors, on the chests of armored guards.

They had ruled the empire for centuries, and their wealth showed in every inch of their keep.

People stopped to stare at her.

A young woman in fine silk paused mid-step, her gaze flicking to the blood smeared across Jo's temple and the dirt clinging to her tattered clothes. A servant, holding a tray of fruit, wrinkled his nose as she passed. Others whispered behind their hands, their eyes darting between Jo and the silent figure of the whip-bearing servant who led her onward.

She clenched her fists and forced herself to keep moving.

By the time they reached the inner keep, the pain in her head had dulled to a steady throb. The servant stopped before a set of heavy wooden doors, each one carved with twisting dragons.

Jo swallowed.

She had heard whispers of this place before.

A castle within a castle. A private retreat, hidden within the Red Keep's walls.

Her pulse quickened.

The servant turned to her, his smirk returning. "This is as far as I'll go," he murmured, his voice thick with something unreadable. "The Mother is expecting you. One of the ladies will take you to her chambers."

Jo nodded slowly, though her stomach twisted with unease.

The doors swung open from within, revealing a corridor bathed in golden light.

She stepped forward, hesitating only a moment before crossing the threshold.

The keep was unlike anything she had expected.

Instead of the cold, looming halls of the Red Keep, this space was warm, almost inviting. The floors were covered in black, red, and gold tiles, each one polished to a mirror shine. Rich tapestries hung from the walls, their woven images depicting stories of old—great battles, dragons in flight, kings and queens long dead.

From somewhere deeper inside, the soft melody of a musician's instrument drifted through the halls, mingling with distant laughter and hushed conversation.

It was peaceful.

Beautiful.

A world removed from the streets she knew.

And yet, Jo felt more out of place here than anywhere else.

She glanced down at herself—her bloody temple, her dirty clothes, the sweat and grime clinging to her skin. She had spent years blending into the city, making herself unremarkable, unseen. But here? Here, she stood out like a smudge of dirt on pristine silk.

She wiped at her temple with the hem of her shirt, feeling the dried blood flake away. The bleeding had stopped, but her face was still a mess. The cool air inside the keep made her more aware of how sweaty she was, how filthy.

But none of it mattered now.

She was here.

And soon, she would stand before the most powerful woman in the empire.