Icy dread coiled in Katell’s stomach. This was no ordinary visit. This was something far worse.
Dorias came to a halt before her cell, his movements crisp as he inclined his head towards the approaching figure.
The Emperor stepped into the torchlight, his presence commanding the narrow corridor. Katell had heard the stories—of his victories, his cunning, his ruthlessness. Yet he didn’t look as old as she’d expected. Though he had to be nearing fifty, his strong frame and sharp features gave him a vitality that rivalled men half his age. His wavy black hair framed a face marked by a lifetime of battles and power. Bushy brows arched over piercing eyes that seemed to strip away every defence, while a thick, well-groomed beard covered his jaw, lending him an air of unyielding authority.
This was the man who had crushed the Rebel Queen—her mother—at Kendrisia. The man whose name alone inspired fear and obedience.
He stopped before the iron bars, expression unreadable. His gaze flicked briefly to Leywani before settling on Katell, sharp and calculating, like a predator sizing up prey.
“So,” he said, his tone edged with contempt, “this is she? Laran’s Chosen?”
“Yes, Imperator,” Dorias replied in a clipped tone.
Katell met the Emperor head-on, refusing to lower her head or show the slightest trace of weakness.
“And she can summon the Makhai?” the Emperor asked. “You’re certain of it?”
Before Dorias could answer, Katell stepped forward, her chains clinking as she moved. “Why don’t you take off these dampeners,” she said, keeping calm despite the fury simmering beneath, “and I’ll show you exactly what I can do?”
The room tensed. The guards stiffened, hands moving to their weapons. One barked, “Silence!”
Dorias shot her a warning look, but Katell ignored him. She was done playing by their rules.
She met the Emperor’s stare, her defiance resolute. This was the man who’d torn apart families, enslaved entire regions, and crushed rebellions under his heel. The man responsible for so much suffering. The one who had spun an elaborate web, pulling countless lives into his schemes—all to get to her.
The Emperor raised a hand to stop his guards. “It’s all right,” he said. “She’s lashing out because she’s afraid.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” Katell shot back.
The Emperor’s lips thinned, and his eyes gleamed with an arrogance so thick it suffocated the room. “Perhaps you should be. Do you know who I am?”
Katell raised an eyebrow, the implication clear. Did he honestly think she was that naïve?
“I am Emperor Caius Tarquinius, ruler of the greatest Empire the world has ever known,” he began. “A direct descendant of the Great King Tarquinius, the first ruler of Rasenna. And I am not simply the Emperor, child—I am the most powerful man you will ever encounter. I hold the lives of thousands in my palms, and I can do as I wish, when I wish.”
His tone darkened, a flash of ruthless delight cutting across his expression. “I could snap my fingers, and my guard would kill you where you stand. I could order them to slit your throat—or better yet, slit your pretty friend’s throat instead.”
Katell ground her teeth but said nothing. He wanted her to cower in fear, but she wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.
He continued, his voice gaining strength with each word. “You lash out at me because you’re afraid. You have no power here. You are nothing but a pawn, thrust onto the stage by the whim of Laran, granted a fraction of his magic. No choice of your own, no reason. You’ve been elevated from the masses, lifted from whatever miserable shithole you were born into, and you dare to spit in the face of fortune?”
Katell let out a short, sharp exhale, her shoulders stiffening. “Why am I here?”
He laughed, a cruel sound that echoed through the cell. “You heard us, didn’t you? The only reason you’re still alive is because you can summon the Makhai. And that power is exactly what we need.”
Katell clenched her fists, her pulse quickening with the weight of his words. “Why?”
“You haven’t earned the right to that answer.”
“For war, then?” she pressed, her mind racing. “Against the Achaeans? The Westerners?”
“Both.” His tone was flat, as though the question were beneath him.
Katell refused to back down. She tilted her head, a mocking smile curling at the corner of her lips, one she’d seen Nik wear a thousand times when he was toying with someone. “Well, you’re out of luck. Because I can’t fully summon the Makhai. I don’t have enough magic. So you’ll have to find someone else to do your dirty work.”
The corridor went silent. The Emperor’s eyes narrowed, a darkness settling over his features, and for the first time, fear slithered in Katell’s gut like a cold serpent.
Then the Emperor’s command sliced through the stillness. “Open the door.”
