Queen Celene, Planet Alera, Optimus Unit Prison, Cell Level C

      I heard them before the door to my cell swung open. Heavy boots. Two males and one female. All three wore clerics’ uniforms, the emblem on their chests that of the clerical order itself, rather than from one of the noble families.

      Orphans then. Which explained why they would be so fervently loyal to this mysterious master I’d heard so much about over the last few days. The master who was responsible for my first husband’s death, for the attempt on my life, for the hunters who had searched for me for twenty-seven long years and stolen me from my home on Earth to bring me… here.

      On one hand, I was glad they were finally talking about him. On the other? I knew that any information I gained now was most likely because they would kill me soon.

      Whatever they had wanted from my daughters, they had been sorely disappointed. As far as I knew, they still lived. But that meant they’d switched their focus back to me.

      “Good morning, Celene. Stay warm enough last night?” The eldest cleric spoke for all three of them. She always did. I’d been in this cell for several days now, and other than the male who’d killed the man I thought of as Scarface right in front of me, hers was the only voice I’d heard.

      “You know I didn’t.” She’d made sure of it, taking my blankets and leaving me to shiver and sicken each of the last three nights. It had been cold in Mytikas, our capital city. Cold in the mountains surrounding us. Even in the depths of the cell block, inside the building, it was cold. I hated the cold.

      “Yes, well, you have not earned the privilege of comfort.” She was close to my age, nearing fifty if she was a day. Her long brown hair was streaked with gray and pulled up into a rather severe bun on top of her head, the tight pull causing her cheeks to thin and lines to fan out from the corners of her eyes to her temples. She was fit, her muscles outlined by the cleric uniform’s tight black pants and fitted tunic. I had never seen her before and did not recall her from my youth. But she’d been close to my age when the attack happened at the palace, when my beloved had been taken from me and I’d been forced to flee to Earth with my unborn child.

      “I am the queen of Alera. This building belongs to me. As does the blood running in your veins and the clothing on your backs. Claiming otherwise does not make it so,” I stated.

      Her dark blue eyes narrowed and the young male behind her stepped forward as if to strike me with his fist, but she placed a hand on his shoulder and shook her head. “Our master arrives in a few days. I thought you would want