“I believe their names were Geoffrey, Trey, and Brett. All dead. And then they found onenearlydead Brockton.”
Nearly dead? By the Gods. I’d … I’d stabbed his heart. I felt the sword go in—felt the sickening give of my blade pushing through muscle.
I’d seen the life leave his eyes with my own. I’d been sick over what I’d done, and then sick I hadn’t done enough and now … Fuck! I felt farther than Lethea. My hands grasped for the edge of my chair, desperate to hold onto something, to keep breathing, to stay in my body. “We …” My throat tightened. “We heard word in our travels that he passed away.” Was Brockton alive this whole time? By the Gods. I couldn’t breathe.
“Of course, he passed away,” the Imperator said dismissively.
I resisted the urge to clutch at my chest. I was on the verge of hyperventilating.
The nahashim slithered across Imperator Hart’s shoulders to his other arm, poking its head in his face.
“You gave him a mortal wound,” he said. “Unfortunately for you, the promise of death by your hand was not instantaneous. He survived. Long enough for the door to be opened, long enough for him to say your name to the poor fool who found him. You should be honored. His final words before death were ‘Lyriana Batavia.’ How many can claim that for themselves?”
“He …” I took another labored breath, barely able to hear over my heart pounding. “He accused me of killing him?” I tried to sound innocent and surprised, but the beats of my heart were growing with intensity.
“Brockton was a fool. I know he thought he could play his twisted games with you, and no one would ever know. But servants talk. They all knew you were there all day, even if none of them actually saw you. I can only assume they knew my son came to rescue you. From the descriptions of the wounds, I’d surmise he was responsible for the first three kills. Only an inexperienced soturion would leave an opponent still breathing. Always, always finish the job, little slayer.” He smirked. “My son has many faults, but he certainly knows how to take a life. I’ve seen him do it. Out of curiosity, what caused him to stand down? What could have happened to make him, a well-trained killer, pause and allow you the final kill?”
If you kill me, I won’t get to tell you about how I fucked her.
My skin crawled.
“You can tell me, Lady Lyriana.” His father’s voice softened. “Did something happen? Was this revenge? Did he touch you? Something more?” His eyes turned to slits, shining with the same excitement he’d had when he questioned Meera. “Did he try to fuck you?”
“You mean rape!” I spat.
Imperator Hart laughed, and the nahashim hissed. “Ah. Now we are getting somewhere.”
Fuck. Fuck! How did I keep walking into the traps this man had set for me? At last, I reached for my wine and took a sip. I swallowed roughly, but I kept drinking and drinking, until I emptied the glass.
“Did he rape you? Or was my son fast enough to stop him?”
“What do you care?” I said, my voice hushed. I slammed my glass on the table. “Rhyan stopped him. Not that it matters now. Because none of what you’re saying is of consequence. The official story of Brockton’s death at the hands of his friends has been publicized across the Empire. Acknowledgedby his Ka. By his own Imperator and Emperor. There is no active investigation, and no calls for my arrest, and certainly no calls for Rhyan’s either—at least not regarding this.”
“No calls for your arrest?” he taunted. “Lord Tristan is not merely hunting Rhyan. He’s hunting you. Do you not yet understand all of this? Did you think you got away with it? You have not. The fate that awaits you at the hands of Imperator Kormac will be far more dire than you can imagine. And that, my lady, is precisely why there has been no public call. And why there won’t be. Every single witness to Brockton’s murder has spoken, and given their testimony. And do you know where they are now?”
My vision swam. “In Vrukshire?”
“Not anymore.” He grinned. “Every last one has been executed.”
“Executed?” All those servants were dead? Because of me? “By who?”
He looked at me pityingly. “Who do you think? Imperator Kormac.”
“But they served him.” My mind was whirling, unsure how to play this, unsure what it all meant. Only that we were fucked. That they knew, and something worse was coming.
“Imperator Kormac came home, and did his investigation. He knew of my nahashim, knew who they sought. He saw the wounds on his soturi. He knows which men died by the hand of my son, and which one died by yours. He’s quite insulted by that you know. He had higher hopes for Brockton than to be taken out by a powerless girl. In any case, he learned all he needed to in a single morning. And then he eviscerated the evidence.”
I shivered. “Why?”
“No witnesses, no crime, at least as far as Imperator Kormac is concerned. But I wouldn’t look too relieved at this revelation. You have not been exonerated.”
I knew there was no such look on my face, but I nodded for him to continue, barely able to stop myself from glaring.
“I can assure you that he desires his revenge greatly. Both he, and the Bastardmaker. It washisson and heir you stuck your blade into, after all. The thing about wolves is they are pack creatures. Loyal, and vengeful. And hungry. They will not rest until they sink their teeth into you, biting and tearing you apart until they are satisfied. Perhaps while my son gets to watch.”
My eyes widened, my hands shaking.
Imperator Hart chuckled. “Oh, they’d love that. Kormac wants to find you—and, he wants to keep your crimes secret. You should be worried about why. He could easily send you to prison, execute you for murder. It’s the legal way to do this of course.” He shrugged. “An option that may offer him a moment of satisfaction. Or …”
