8
The summons had been polite, delivered by a warrior who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.The Emperor requests the pleasure of your company.
Requests.As if she could say no.
Emily stood outside the door to the Emperor's private study, her pulse hammering as she smoothed her hands over the silk of her dress.The fabric was cool against her palms, soft and strange, and it felt like a lie.Not her clothes, not her life—just another costume they'd dressed her in.
Raaevik stood beside her.He hadn't looked at her directly since they'd left the medical bay earlier and was back to being a wall of muscle and silence, staring straight ahead with that terrifying, disciplined stillness.But she could feel him.It was like standing next to a furnace.She rubbed her palm against her thigh, the skin where the seal had knit her flesh back together tight and itchy.
"Ready?"Raaevik asked.He didn't turn his head.
"Do I have a choice?"
"No."
Well, at least he was honest.
The door slid open with a soft hiss.
She braced herself for something like a throne room, with banners and guards and all that pomp and…
It was a library.
She blinked in surprise.The room was smaller than her quarters, intimate and quiet.The walls were lined not with weapons or trophies, but with shelves holding actual books—paper and leather, spines cracked with age.There was a desk, cluttered with dataflexes and a mug that had steam rising from the top.Two comfortable-looking chairs were positioned near a wide viewport, and beyond the glass, stars were scattered across the black.
"Emily."
Daaynal turned from the window.
He wasn't wearing his crown or the combat leathers.Instead, he wore a simple grey tunic and loose trousers, his feet bare against the thick rug.His dark hair was tied back loosely, strands escaping to frame a face that looked… tired.
Very tired.
"Your Majesty," she said, and dipped into a clumsy curtsy.
"Please," he said, waving a hand."None of that here.Come in.Sit."
He gestured to the chairs.
Hesitating, she glanced back at Raaevik, but he'd taken up his post just outside the door, expression blank as it slid shut.He wasn't going to help her.She was on her own.
Walking forward, she sat on the edge of the chair.It was soft, swallowing her a little.Daaynal took the seat opposite her.He didn't loom or posture, just looked at her with green eyes that seemed too old for his face.She realised she had no idea how old he actually was.
"I imagine you're wondering why I asked you here," he said.
"To discuss the schedule?"she guessed."Or maybe to tell me which fork I'm supposed to use at the next banquet so I don't embarrass the Empire?"
A faint smile touched his lips."No.I wanted to ask you about the shelter.In Austin."
The air left her lungs.Whatever she'd expected, it hadn't been that."What?"
"The shelter," Daaynal said.Picking up a dataflex from the small table between them, he tapped the screen."You ran the intake program for three years.You expanded the outreach to the veterans' encampments under the highway bridges, and according to this, you fought the city council for six months to get the zoning permits for the new wing."
He looked up at her."That is impressive work, Emily."
She stared at him, her mouth a little open.Her mother had never asked about the shelter.
"You… you checked up on me?"
