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The Imperator’s fingers pressed deeper, and I stifled a gasp, feeling not only his hand on my waist but his phantom fingers in my back.
“That is good,” said the Imperator, “for he sent me to dance with you in his stead.”
“Oh,” I said. “Lord Tristan and I were—”
“Allow me to step in,” the Imperator said, taking my hand from Tristan’s and threading his fingers through mine. “How kind of you both. This is the Emperor’s wish.”
Tears burned behind my eyes. My hatred for this man made my physically ill, his touch was more than I could bear.
“I’ll be right here, Lyr,” Tristan said calmly. “As soon as you’re done.”
“Lord Tristan,” the Imperator nodded and swept me out to the center of the dance floor, his boots moving so quickly that I stumbled to keep up.
We were in the center of the temple, in clear view of the Emperor, nearly beneath the eternal flame.
The music swelled, and the Imperator began to spin me around, one hand firmly gripping my hip as if I’d run away.
“You are quite the lovely dancer,” he said, watching me carefully from behind his mask. He’d found one in silver with clawed edges.
“Thank you, your highness,” I said, stiffly.
“And you really have mastered the art of moving these.” He squeezed where he gripped me below my waist.
I stared ahead, the backs of my eyes burning.
“Are you prepared for tomorrow?” he asked.
“As prepared as I can be,” I said. My heart was pounding, my skin crawling, but still I smiled and held my head up while his palm was against mine.
He smirked. “Doubtful. I will say this, though. Batavia women, you are made of something feisty.”
I caught the Emperor watching me over the Imperator’s shoulder as well as the Blade peering at us carefully. Beside us on the dance floor, the Bastardmaker grabbed a young female mage.
The Imperator stared down at me, a questioning look in his eyes, and I realized I’d never responded to his last statement. I swallowed, my throat dry. “You find us feisty,” I said, keeping my voice neutral. “Is that Ka Kormac’s way of admitting we’re strong?”
“I was there, you know,” he said, voice low. His arm wrapped around me, pulling me closer. “With the Lady Julianna in Lethea.”
I froze.
The Imperator shifted roughly, taking the next step quickly to jolt me back into the dance. His grip on my hand tightened.
“You will not mind my saying this,” he said. “After all, you’ve renounced vorakh.”
My eyes burned. “Of course. I am a loyal daughter of the Empire.”
The Imperator smirked again. “My uncle will be pleased to hear. Because you never know what secrets a family member is willing to hide.”
“Not if it involves vorakh,” I said darkly. The ceiling looked unstable above me. Was it moving closer?
“That is how I came to my opinion of your feistiness,” he said lightly. “How hard the Lady Julianna fought back. Scratching and clawing until her power was completely stripped, removed from every inch of her body.”
The Bastardmaker laughed beside us. “Love the feisty ones,” he said, his black, beady eyes on me as he lowered his hands on his dance partner.
“If you should wish….” the Imperator started, leaning in, his bristly cheek pressed to mine.
I was going to faint. By the Gods, I was going to faint.
“…not to be tested tomorrow, we can find you a place to serve in the capitol.”
