It was deathly quiet. Emilio stood at the window, but there wasn't a single sign of movement outside. Somewhere behind him lay the ruler's lifeless body. Though a voice in the back of his mind whispered that he was a murderer, he refused to accept it.

Well... technically, he was.

He had killed that young woman, but he'd been forced to do it. He hadn't wanted her dead. And the bastard lying behind him... he couldn't bring himself to mourn him. The man had intended to rape him. Worse, he had forced Emilio to kill that woman. He'd deserved to die.

So no, Emilio felt very little remorse. What worried him were the consequences of what he'd done. Everyone in the city knew he'd spent the night with the ruler, making him the obvious suspect. Should he deny it? Invent some story? Or did his status as a god give him the right to kill others, just as Kuyasqay had been free to do whatever he pleased?

There was no way to predict it. The odds of everyone turning against him were just as high as the odds of them continuing to throw themselves at his feet. Besides, he had no idea how politics worked here. Maybe that bastard had influential relatives. Friends hungry for revenge. Or something else entirely.

First free Mateo. After that, I won't have to make every decision alone.

He walked over to the clothing chest where he'd hoped Iliyan had been hiding earlier and flipped the lid open.

His divine status would probably be more convincing if he wore that asshole's clothes, but he'd rather not walk around with his bare ass exposed every time a breeze passed by. In the darkness he couldn't make out the colors anyway, though he didn't particularly care. He found a skirt with a less revealing slit, pulled it on, and left the room.

He didn't encounter any guards in the corridor. Retracing his steps, he returned to the room where he'd been taken that afternoon. His jeans and shirt were caked in mud and torn to shreds, so he left them behind. He did retrieve his phone from his pocket.

Iliyan still had his backpack.

A bitter taste filled his mouth.

Iliyan... who'd disappeared without another word.

He still couldn't make sense of it. Why had Iliyan walked away without saying anything? The only explanation Emilio had managed to come up with was that he'd been carrying out some kind of plan.

Then it must've failed. Maybe you'll find him in the dungeons too.

He placed the ceremonial headdress on his head and strode toward the pyramid's exit, where guards still stood watch. One of them had been nodding off until he spotted Emilio, then immediately straightened up.

"Take me to the prison," Emilio ordered in the language Iliyan had taught him.

He had no doubt his grammar was atrocious, but his commanding tone and newfound status were enough to set the man in motion.

They descended the stairs. At the bottom, they turned right and walked around the building. There, a narrow staircase led down to a passage guarded by another warrior.

The two men exchanged a few words, the newcomer giving Emilio a quick once-over from head to toe.

Emilio shot him an impatient look.

The warrior lowered his head respectfully and stepped aside.

Just before entering the dark corridor, Emilio pulled the torch from its bracket beside the entrance. The place was pitch-black, without a single window.

The flickering flame revealed wooden doors, each with a small rectangular opening that allowed him to peer inside. They didn't use keys here. Thick wooden beams barred the doors shut instead.

The cells were tiny, barely two meters across. Each contained a single prisoner whose wrists and ankles had been bound together.

At the fourth cell, he recognized Mateo's silhouette.

Without hesitation, he lifted the beam aside and swung the door open.

"About damn time."

Emilio stepped inside and crouched beside his friend. He set the torch down and started fumbling with the knot around Mateo's ankles. A few months ago it probably would've taken him forever, but Iliyan had taught him how to tie—and untie—knots efficiently.

"What do you mean, 'about time'?"

"Did you and that guy have a nice evening together?"

Emilio shot him a murderous glare. "I wanted to make sure as many people as possible were asleep."

"Is he unconscious or dead?"

"Dead."

Mateo grinned. "Badass, man."

He didn't answer. The moment the ropes around Mateo's ankles came loose, Emilio shoved him forward a little more roughly than necessary so he could reach the bindings behind his back.