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He’s just a young man, with dark curls and a neatly trimmed beard. His ears are adorned with several golden hoops—in the way of the Padran people.
His pulse beats wildly in his neck. He thrashes and writhes, but I easily overpower him, holding him still as I sink my fangs into his neck.
I drink. Quickly, efficiently. It’s nothing more than sustenance at this point.
Nothinglike the sacred bliss I experience when Finley offers herself to me.
This is forced.
I’d rather not, but I have no choice. I can’t afford to become weak here.
Recognizing that he can’t fight, he goes limp in my grasp. I wrap my arm around his neck, cutting off his air until he goes unconscious.
I let him go, and he slumps to the ground.
I leave him there and advance up on the remaining soldiers. “If you attack, you’ll die. Then what do you think will happen? Your lord will turn you into monsters like the ones I destroyed downstairs. You’ll become undead fiends, and then I’ll have to kill you again.”
A barrage of arrows flies at me. I duck and deflect. Suffused with the blood of the soldier, I feel invincible again. When one of the crossbow bolts penetrates my armor, I simply yank it out, and my body heals.
I’d really prefer not to kill these men.
They know not what they do.
I stop.
The men hesitate, the tips of their swords wavering.
I see a gap; man-sized, leading toward a wide set of doors, through which I can see another corridor.
I know what I’ll do.
Why should I fight them?
“When I become emperor,” I say softly, seizing the last moment of their hesitation, “just remember that I could have killed you, and I didn’t.”
Then I move through the spaces between them, faster than the eye can see, disappearing before their very eyes.
They can’t catch me. I don’twantthem to catch me, either.
I reach a vast hall, lined with polished parquetry floors, the ornate ceilings inlaid with gilt. My boots leave a trail of filthy footprints across the pristine floor.
Another set of doors greets me—carved with motifs of vines and flowers and scrollwork, their entire surface painted in gold.
If I remember correctly, this passage leads to Deignar Castle’s great hall and throne room.
And there are people inside. Presences; at least three of them. I can hear their slow, steady breathing, and the rapid thud of their heartbeats.
A soft sigh escapes my lips. Is this what they wanted? To throw the full force of a necromancer’s powers at me before I reached them?
Did they think all that would weaken me?
If anything, it just strengthens my resolve.
What comes next is going to be difficult, but if what I think I know about Finley’s mother proves to be right, this could all be over very quickly.
Knowledge is the key to power in this empire, and I don’t think the Talavarras truly understand what they’re dealing with.
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