Page 11 of The Immortal’s Mark

“When it is done?”

“We discuss what comes next.”

Not freedom. I do not offer that. But not execution either. Something undefined. A future that neither of us can predict.

She studies me for a long moment. I let her look. Let her see whatever it is she is searching for.

“An emperor who survived my poison,” she says slowly. “A proposition instead of execution. Access instead of chains.” Her mouth curves. “You are not what I expected, Your Majesty.”

“Nor are you.”

She laughs. The sound is startling—bright and genuine and nothing like the calculated amusement she has been displaying. It echoes off the dungeon walls, out of place in this space designed for suffering.

“Very well,” she says. “I accept your proposition.” She lifts her chained wrists. “Shall we begin?”

I gesture for the guard. He returns, pale and confused, to unlock her cell.

As she steps through the door—alive, whole, impossible—something shifts in the careful architecture of my existence. A crack I did not intend. A light I did not expect.

I do not know yet what it will cost me.

I find that I want to find out.