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Not one fucking bit.
And neither do I know this half-brother of mine, who leads me down the dais and across the hall, through a side-door and into a narrow corridor, his velvet robes flapping behind him as he walks faster and faster.
His hands glow crimson with magical threads.
His movements are filled with frantic energy; his steps almost seem gleeful.
The thought has crossed my mind time and time again—what if this is a trap; something even I can’t overcome?
But no; Aralya’s definitely here. Ansar wouldn’t have become so powerful otherwise, and Iknowmy father wasn’t lying.
I just have to trust that this blood of mine—thisgift—can do what it always does.
60
FINLEY
Afragile stillness hangs over the Inner Sanctum of Rahava’s Imperial Palace.
Corvan’s gone.
It feels strange.
Ever since I first encountered him, he’s been close by, whether it’s within the walls of Tyron Castle or at my very side.
The only time I lost him was when Captain Kinnivar, influenced by a necromancer, tried to abduct me, but in the end, Corvan came for me.
How strange that I, so used to being alone, could yearn for someone so deeply?
I’ve grown used to him. To knowing that he’s just a step and a breath away; to his powerful presence, his protection.
And now he’s gone, leaving me here in this lavish palace, surrounded by a unit of the most dangerous soldiers in the empire.
The emperor’s chambers have been sealed off. An embalmer is working on the corpse. Nobody is to go in or out, because Corvan doesn’t want anybody to know that Valdon Duthriss is dead.
Not until he’s dealt with his half-brother and the Talavarras.
He’s gone alone. Right into the maw of the beast.
It feels surreal.
I can hardly believe it, and I hate this feeling; of waiting, of not knowing.
Of being helpless. How I wish I could protect him the same way he does me.
I glance up at the guard that walks by my side. His name is Einvar. He has long black hair and a shadow of a shaven beard covering his hollowed cheeks. I’m dwarfed by him.
The blond one on my left is called Kharuk. Ever since Corvan left, I’ve been assigned a pair of hulking Elite Guards to watch over me. They take shifts, swapping out at regular intervals.
The men of the Elite Guard are tight-lipped and terribly serious. They’ve barely exchange a word with me, but at least they’re unfailingly polite and courteous, making every effort to accommodate my needs.
Like now, for instance, when I’ve requested to visit the garden space at the center of the Inner Sanctum.
My guards are more than happy to oblige—as long as they watch over me at all times. Their presence is both reassuring and stifling. I can hardly believe what’s happened. Emperor Valdon Duthriss is dead, and his personal Elite Guard have sworn complete loyalty to Corvan.
Just like that.
They fully support him to become the next emperor of Rahava.
