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A new set of bells rang. Not the timekeeper’s bells. Not the warning bells.
The bells of the Emperor.
“Oh, Gods. He’s here. He’s in Bamaria.”
“I know,” Rhyan said, his voice full of reassurance. But even his face had paled.
This man—the man who’d killed every member of Ka Azria, the man’s whose orders had allowed the Imperator to take Jules and have her killed—was now in my country, stepping on my land, and being escorted to my home. To Cresthaven, where his Godsforsaken, Moriel-fucking lungs would breathe the same air as mine, where he would sit in the places Jules had once sat.
“Lyr, you’re not due to meet him for hours.” Rhyan stepped forward, both hands reaching for my shoulders, the gesture a break from our no-touching-outside-of-training rule. “Deep breath,” he said. “He’s not in the Katurium. You are. And you have one task right now. Put everything else out of your mind. You need to go eat lunch, take a break, and then go beat everyone at the written exams.”
“Meera and Morgana—” I started.
“Have been preparing for weeks,” he countered. “They are going to be all right. Morgana knows what to do. And not enough time has passed for us to be in Meera’s danger zone, right?” He nodded at my golden arm cuff. I’d had to have it readjusted for my bicep thanks to all my training. Ramia had made quick work of it—and again requested I wear the necklace.
I gave a shaky nod to Rhyan, my eyes following his to my cuff. It was still so strange to have someone know my secret. Know it and not betray me. Know it and still accept me. And at the same time, having Rhyan know felt completely natural.
But his words didn’t lessen my anxiety. Even if Meera didn’t have a vision, the vorakh was taking a greater toll on her each day. She continued to fade, and even Arianna had commented that it was odd she had retired to her bedroom so quickly the night of the Emartis’s riots.
“She’s not Arkasva,” I’d said. “What could she have done?”
Arianna had given me one of her piercing looks with her blue eyes. “I know, my dear. But they don’t see it that way.” She gestured at the nobility milling around the Great Hall, muttering to themselves about the Emartis and their overnight accommodations, all while searching for more news and gossip.
“Meera is Heir Apparent. And she is of age to become Arkasva. They expect her to be present at state affairs, to take a role in leadership. To show she is present, concerned, and preparing. If she does not, many are going to lose faith in Ka Batavia, and we cannot have that.”
I had agreed with Aunt Arianna, but her words stayed with me. The promise of Meera coming into power was what had set many Bamarians’ minds at ease after the scandal of my father ruling. And now, it was becoming clear to them that that might not happen. The longer my father ruled, the more likely our supporters who remained for Meera’s sake might defect.
“Get out of your head, partner,” Rhyan said, calling me back. “One thing at a time.”
“Will you be there?” I asked, my voice small. “Tonight?” I reached for his hand on my shoulder.
“I’ll be wherever you want me to be. I swear.” His voice was barely a whisper as he squeezed my fingers in return. His other hand pressed in a fist against his heart twice before flattening—the oath of Glemaria.Me sha, me ka.He leaned in toward me until our foreheads pressed together. “I won’t be able to talk to you. But I will be on guard with your father’s sentries. You’re going to be okay. I promise.”
I closed my eyes, the agony of my next two days rivaled by the knowledge that Rhyan’s soft, kissable lips, were so Godsdamned near.
He pulled away, his fingers releasing my hand.
“I’ll see you tonight.” I grabbed my bag and walked into the hall just as Haleika turned the corner, Leander walking a few steps behind her.
She froze when she saw me, her cheeks red. Her eyes flicked behind me to Rhyan, still in our training room pushing mats against the wall.
My nostrils flared, but she gave me a single, curt nod. We still had our agreement. Neither of us said a word and walked together to the dining hall to eat lunch while Galen spent the whole time quizzing our table with last-minute questions.
When I entered the examination room and sat down, snow began to fall.
Hours later, I paced across the carpet of my bedroom in Cresthaven, watching the snowflakes burst from the darkening sky and fall outside my window. I wore a long red gown cinched at the waist by a gold belt. The deep v-cut of the dress design vanished behind the belt, essentially putting my cleavage on full display.
Morgana had picked the dress, and I felt sick wearing it, knowing I’d be on display in minutes before the Emperor, the Imperator, and the Bastardmaker. Viktor was also likely to be there since his father and great uncle were present. And Naria would be in the line-up since by blood she was a Lady of Ka Batavia. It would be a whole evening with all my favorite people in Lumeria. Just add Tani, and the entire membership of the Emartis, and we were certain to have a grand old time.
I stared in the mirror again. I’d worn dresses that showed this much skin before, but never one that had…put everything so clearly on display.
Morgana had picked it out. As lascivious as the Imperator was, Morgana had gleaned from overhearing conversations during the day that the Emperor was worse. And highlighting my cleavage like it was some work of art could motivate the Emperor to adjust the test or his final decision in my favor. It was no secret that the world worked that way, and I’d played it to my advantage before. But to do it for the Emperor…it made me sick. He was a monster.
The color of the dress was the only thing I liked. It was not just red, but Batavia red. A reminder of who we were—our strength, our ancient role in leading the Empire for a thousand years.
The last light of day finally faded, and the snow could only be seen from the light of the torches the fortress mages had lit at dusk. Any minute now, the bells would ring and the ashvan would soar, leaving blue lights all over the sky from their hooves. And I’d be kneeling before my worst enemies, praying they had mercy on me.
I checked my hair and makeup in the mirror one last time, ensuring my golden diadem was perfectly centered across my forehead. I needed to go downstairs. But I couldn’t…not yet. I still felt so naked, so exposed. I didn’t have time to change, nor did I have options. The changes in my body from training had altered the way my old wardrobe fit. Perhaps it was time to buy a new one—if I survived the next two days.
