She looked my way, concern filling her brown eyes which seemed to ask if I was okay.
I nodded quickly, grateful for her steady presence. But my attention went almost at once to the front row. Meera sat before me. She also wore a Glemarian green gown, her ash-brown hair styled like mine. Though she somehow seemed more at ease in the foreign style than I was. Aiden sat beside her, a soturion I didn’t know on her other side—her escorts.I noted right away that his dagger was out. Not noticeable to anyone who sat near him. It was meant for me. A reminder to behave. A reminder that Meera could be hurt with a single blink of Imperator Hart’s eyes.
“Lady Meera told you all, so sweetly, of how she was rescued from the akadim,” Imperator Hart said, one hand stroking his beard. “Two soturi rescued her. Two brave heroes. One stands before you now. Lady Lyriana Batavia.”
I kept still, kept my face neutral.
“I know you have all heard the stories,” Imperator Hart continued. “Lady Lyriana has no power. No strength. She was found without magic at her Revelation Ceremony.” He paused, his eyes scanning the crowd. “This is true. But she is a fighter who benefited from an excellent apprentice. One I myself had a hand in making.” He gestured to the herald. Rhyan was coming.
The front doors opened. Two guards appeared standing shoulder to shoulder, blocking him. Two more soturi marched behind, taking their places as the doors closed.
Everyone in the room began to turn, shifting in their chairs, looking over their shoulders at his entrance. At last, the front guards parted, revealing Rhyan between them.
For a moment I forgot how to breathe. It didn’t matter how many times I saw him dressed in his full soturion uniform. My breath caught as he stepped forward, his green eyes blazing, his hair curled just so. I drank in the sight of him. I couldn’t be positive, but he appeared unbound, and at least from what I could observe, he wasn’t injured. He looked only tired, though his scar was red and angry, like it was new. And from the gasps I heard, and the whispers of the word “scar” suddenly, I supposed it was new to the members of the Glemarian Court.
Then the shouts came. They called him a murderer, forsworn, and then someone from the back of the room called him a whore.
Kenna remained stoic as Imperator Hart stood and shouted, “Enough!” All at once, the room listened. And Rhyan was left to be marched in complete silence down the aisles toward the dais. The only sounds came from the footsteps of the soturi surrounding him.
When he reached the base, he bowed and stood, his back erect. I could feel the ice of his aura. The first time since we’d arrived. So, hecouldaccess his magic. That meant Imperator Hart was pleased with last night. But he could still be testing us—testing to see if Rhyan would stay in control unbound.
“Your Highness,” he said as he rose. He spoke in the clipped, formal way he did when he was concealing his emotions, when his lilt was most suppressed. “Thank you for welcoming me back. I am at your service, and Glemaria’s.”
The crowd erupted again, even more furious than before.
And again, Imperator Hart’s voice rose above, as he gestured for Rhyan to join us on the dais as well.
“No one knows the tragedies that occurred here better than I do,” Imperator Hart addressed the Court. “I understand your anger. Your sorrow. For they are in my heart as well. But I swore I had many things to tell you.” He stood and wrapped his arm around Rhyan’s shoulder. Rhyan’s aura seemed to strike out, a painful chill of ice, sharp and violent. And then just as quickly, it was gone. His feelings withdrew. He was following orders, falling in line.
For me.
His father continued, “My duty to you as your Imperator, as your Arkasva, is sacred. What I tell you now is not said lightly, or without proof. My son, Rhyan, and Lady Lyriana rescued Lady Meera from death. They alerted Arkturion Kane to the threat of akadim at our borders. They are owed our thanks.”
“Forsworn!” came one final shout.
There was a deadly look in Imperator Hart’s eyes, and then the protester was removed at once by two soturi.
He gestured for everyone to sit, and to remain still, as he tugged Rhyan closer. Only from the vantage point of the dais could I see the way his fingers dug into his shoulder. The fact that Rhyan didn’t flinch was a testament to his strength.
“We all know the story of the tragic death of my first wife, Lady Shakina.”
Someone in the audience said, “Ha Ka Mokan.”
This was answered by several calls of “Remember Lady Shakina,” and “her soul freed.”
Rhyan looked at me, a sudden flash in his eyes, then he stared ahead.
“I told you all what happened that awful, terrible night,” Imperator Hart said. “And until today, I thought I understood the events that transpired. Until today, I grieved for my late wife, for the mother of my eldest.”
My throat felt dry. His use of past tense had me on edge. The torches lining the room began to flicker, the flames crackling against the sounds of the wind, and the increasingly familiar sounds of a gryphon flying past.
“My personal guards bore witness to her death. Arkmage Connal, and even my wife, Lady Kenna saw Rhyan’s hand wield the blade that took Shakina’s life.”
Kenna seemed to be still beside me. I wondered if anyone else knew the truth. Did Dario and Aiden? Could Rhyan’s lifelong friends truly have believed this about him?
His father continued, “In my grief, I learned that even Imperators make mistakes.” He let the words hang in the air. “This past year has been one of contemplation. One where I found myself without an answer to an important question: why? Why would my son do this? What would cause one of our academy’s brightest and most dedicated warriors to slay his own blood? After all I had taught him,all he learned as a soturion, after swearing an oath of loyalty to me, to Glemaria and his people, how could he commit such an act?” He nodded solemnly. “Now I know. Our eyes had been deceived.”
At this, several nobles began to whisper in agitation. Imperator Hart’s aura darkened, with a cold, raging violence.
