“You may be skeptical. It was Rhyan’s hand that took his mother’s life. I do not deny that.”
I frowned, unable to follow how this was going to lead to a different outcome. Was it all a joke? My eyes met Meera’s, who seemed to be silently asking the same question as she watched the Imperator with careful eyes. Observant eyes.
Cassarya’s eyes.
“There was something I didn’t know,” Imperator Hart said. “Something I didn’t want to believe. Something that I admit, evenIwas afraid to tell you.” His voice was suddenly sad, almost vulnerable sounding. “It was later in her life when it happened, so late she managed to keep it a secret, even from me. Without my knowledge, Lady Shakina developed vorakh.”
My mouth dropped. The audience let out a collective gasp. Immediately half the room was rising, their fists raised. It was the kind of instantaneous anger towards vorakh I’d seen countless times in the Barmarian court. The same anger I’d seen in the temple when Jules revealed hers. The same vitriol Tristan expressed when he’d said she had to die.
Rhyan’s jaw clenched. His aura was expanding beyond his control, forcing a blanket of ice across the dais, leaving me shivering.
“She managed to hide it from me,” his father said. “For had I known, despite the love I bore her, she would have been dealt with at once. The night of her death, a vision took her. She devolved into violence, and attacked me. Because I’d only known her as gentle, her strength caught me bysurprise. I thought she was having a fit. But Rhyan saw the truth. He saw her vorakh.”
The room was silent, every noble hanging on his every word. They were slowly beginning to sit down, leaning forward, rapt at his story. He truly had them in his palm.
“My son did not hesitate to protect me. Not only did he stop the threat, he accepted all of the blame to protect our Ka. He became forsworn to keep Glemaria safe, to keep his mother’s reputation untarnished. He did it for me. He did it for all of you. To keep the Emperor from falsely accusing our country, and you, my people, who I think of as my family, of hiding her.”
I nearly gasped. He was taking the fear nobles felt at Ka Azria’s story, and turning it on his Court.
“My son has sacrificed everything for Glemaria. For you. And he did so in silence. We do not honor vorakh, do we?”
The crowd shouted, “No!”
“No.” His voice darkened. “We stop the threat! And we honor the ones who stop it.”
A chill ran down my spine. In seconds, Rhyan’s mother had gone from being a beloved leader to a monster. With one lie, he’d convinced the entire country to tarnish her memory.
Imperator Hart grabbed Rhyan’s arm, and held it over his head in victory. “My son! He will henceforth be known as Lord Rhyan Hart, Heir to the Arkasva, High Lord of Glemaria, Imperator to the North. I revoke the title forsworn. I absolve you of all charges. Your exile, Lord Rhyan, has come to an end. Welcome home.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
LYRIANA
Rhyan’s eyes met mine, green and wide, and horrified. For a moment, they softened, the way they always did when he looked at me. Filling with his love and his warmth.
And then just as quickly, as if he remembered his role, the game we had to play, he looked ahead at the Court—at the people who’d turned on him, who’d betrayed him and stood behind the lies of their Imperator.
I hated all of them at that moment. Hated how easily they were swayed, how gullible they proved themselves to be. And how fickle. The sound of the nobles cheering for Rhyan—the son they’d turned their backs on—was grating to my ears. As was the sound of their cries. I’d never heard anything so fake. So performative. None of them had believed in him, or stood by him. They didn’t deserve him. And they deserved none of my pity.
“I am thrilled to welcome Rhyan home to our academy as a decorated soturion, and back to Court. Of course, as the child of a vorakh, he will never be Heir Apparent. That title remains with my unborn son.”
On cue, Kenna grinned widely and stepped forward, proudly showing off her belly. She turned to each side, letting everyone bask in the swell.
“Speaking of continuing my bloodline,” Imperator Hart laughed, his eyes dancing with mischief, “Now that Lord Rhyan is home, and a Glemarian once more, perhaps it’s time for him to feel the weight of responsibility. To not only carry his part in this, but to shoot his load.”
There was a roar of laughter by the men in the room that left me uneasy. The laughs all felt edged with an undertone of violence. Despite Imperator Hart’s orders, despite the sharp pain in my temples, I couldn’t help but look at Rhyan, at the tightness in his mouth, the muscles of his jaw working.
“It is time for Lord Rhyan to marry,” his father announced.
It felt like someone had knocked the wind out of me. I knew this was coming. Knew it had to happen, knew we both had to play the game. It wasn’t real. None of this was. And yet …
“I am pleased to announce his betrothal. And, who better, and more fitting to wed the Heir to the Arkasva and Imperator, than the beautiful, and intelligent, niece of our own Senator Oryyan.”
I blinked, not recognizing the name.
But Kenna frowned and Rhyan’s body was somehow both violent and still. His skin paled. I braced myself for the impact of his aura … but felt nothing. Not just nothing, but the complete and total absence of it, a feeling that usually only came when he was bound. The smallest glimpse of his eyes showed me they were empty.
He’d turned his emotions off. Something he’d told me he used to do to survive his father’s wrath. Even after he escaped Glemaria and entered exile, he hadn’t been able to turn them back on. When he finally had, at first it had only been grief. Then slowly desire. Only with me recently had he been able to begin to feel more, to open up all of his emotions again, to feel love and joy. It killed me to know I’d asked him to do this, that the only way he could get through this was to shut down again.
