“I’m sorry,” he whispered, then looked up at his father with death in his eyes. “Are you satisfied? I can only assume from the size of her belly you’ve outdone me.”
Gods. I needed to get out of here. I needed to break free of these damned ropes. I pinched my own fingers together. It was all I could do to keep from crying. But tears still welled in my eyes.
Something I realized that Imperator Hart had noticed. As had Rhyan. His face tightened, and fell. I knew he felt awful. But I still couldn’t look at him. Nor could I face Imperator Hart who had finally released Kenna from his hold.
She started to reach for her arm, for the spot I was sure was already bruising. But then she straightened, hands at herside, shoulders pushed back. Her noble training kicked back in and she stared pointedly out the window.
Imperator Hart stroked his beard. “No need to be embarrassed, my love. It’s in the past,” he said gently. “I just thought that since it was the first time we were all together, I should remind you. Rhyan’s my prisoner. And nothing more than your stepson.”
Kenna’s eyes flashed with anger, her neck reddening. “I’m well aware of his criminal status. My focus is only onmyson, the one who will be here soon. And on you, Your Highness.” She was speaking carefully, formally, but still with that Glemarian lilt.
“Good,” his father said. But he still looked unsettled. I wasn’t supposed to show strength. I had to remember that. The more power I showed, the harder he’d try to hurt me.
It was all a game for him. A game I had to play. I let my face fall, allowing one tear to roll down my cheek. But then another fell. And another. And I couldn’t stop.
Shit.
“Lyr,” Rhyan whispered.
But I shook my head. I couldn’t look at him, not now. Not in front of his father and not in front of …her.
“Now, I have some questions for you, my lady.” Imperator Hart grinned, obviously happy now that he’d gotten a reaction from me. “When I entered Bamaria, I possessed a certain red jewel on my sword. Ancient and priceless. I offered it to you. But you refused me. And instead of negotiating, you sent a thief to rob me.”
I stared ahead, my chin trembling. I was unsure what to say or do. I couldn’t deny his words. But I couldn’t agree with them either.
“And then the two of you came here, attacked my soturi, and used the jewel to open an ancient artifact.”
“And how would you know that?” Rhyan asked. “As I recall, we knocked your soturi unconscious.” His eyes flicked to Dario.
“Hmmm.” Imperator Hart almost sounded amused. “That you did. In fact, the two of you knocked out every sentry on duty that night.”
“Last time I checked,” Rhyan said, “an unconscious soturion could not bear witness. I’ll admit, I did steal the jewel from you, and we did climb Gryphon’s Mount. But that’s all. Perhaps, we simply came for the view.”
“Lying to me is a mistake. Do you think I don’t know? You had no right to break into the white seraphim. Ah—” he held his hand up, “No interruptions. You opened it. And you took what was inside.” His aura thrashed. “Where is it?”
“We took nothing,” Rhyan said. “There was magic around it, an old spell. It created flames. And that’s it. We took nothing.”
“Challenging me, now?” his father asked, his voice deadly low. “You see, besides sentries, I had some eyes on the mountain. They saw everything. And they whispered what they witnessed back to me.”
By the Gods. He’d had nahashim there that night, too. Not to take us, but to spy. Fuck. Fuck! He knew we’d opened the tomb, knew we’d taken the shard. Which meant he knew that I had magic.
The puzzle of the last few days began to come together. All the soturi hunting us all week, the legion he’d sent to find Rhyan who’d been moving steadily closer but not close enough. The nahashim that had stalked outside of our cave, and told him exactly which day Meera had been rescued. None of it had been to capture us. He’d let us know he was watching because he was herding us, pushing us where he wanted. I’d been right. The nahashim at the cave had been atrap, leading us not just to any soturi—but to the men he’dwantedto find us. The ones he’d trusted.
Aiden and Dario.
Imperator Hart clapped, and the door opened.
“Soturion Baynan Gadayyan,” announced the herald.
A soturion entered carrying a long wooden tray covered by green cloth. As he moved closer, I realized he’d been the soturion who had unsettled Rhyan outside, the one who had jeered at him. His hair was brown, shiny, his skin pale, he looked like … of course. Gadayyan. He was related to Kenna. To Kane.
“These are all their effects? Nothing missing?” Imperator Hart asked.
“All they had on their persons is here, Your Highness,” said Baynan. “You have my word.”
The Imperator eyed Dario carefully. “You took everything? All their belongings?”
“Aye, we did, Your Highness, I swear.”
