“He used far smaller specimens than this. A nahashim of this size would hurt terribly, I imagine. But at my word, he will enter you, and he will extract every memory I need to turn you in for the murder of Brockton Kormac. And then, I will extract every memory of my son mounting you. Of your sister’s vorakh—oh yes, I know about that, too. You think I don’t know exactly who I allowed in my gates? I can pull every secret you have out for the entire Empire to see. And I can make sure that you face every punishment available to you and yours. Or? I can call the nahashim back, and you and I can talk terms.”
His hand pressed into my shoulder, fingers digging into my flesh to the point of pain, his palm pushing until I could swear, he was touching my bone. My chin quivered, and my breath came short as my body tried to adjust to the pain. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t. Even with my magic. And he fucking knew it. He shifted, standing before me, as his eyes held mine. The pressure increased.
The snake slid down to my lap, its head bolting up in line with my own, its tongue thrust out as it darted for my eyes. That was where they entered, through the eyelids. I could viscerally remember the awful feeling, the pain and the violation. Its head snapped back and then it lunged. I closed my eyes, feeling its tongue slide against my eyelid.
“Call him back,” I said, my throat raw.
He made a soft whistling sound, and I felt the snake slide to my shoulder and back up his arm. He released me, and only when I could hear he had returned to his seat did I open my eyes. My entire body was trembling.
“Good girl,” he said.
“So, you make Imperator Kormac’s threats somehow go away, and then what? I am forced to serve you instead?” I asked, trying to ignore the hissing of the nahashim still sliding around his neck.
“In a manner of speaking. I will bring you under the safety of my Ka. I will publicly announce my sorrow at Brockton’s death, and express my woes that it happened at the hands of his friends. And I will issue a formal pardon to my son, revoking his status as forsworn, so he may remain in Glemaria without threat. I will also announce that he and you rescued Lady Meera, that there is no relationship in violation of the kashonim between you two. Legally, and politically, Imperator Kormac won’t be able to touch either of you ever again.”
I shook my head. “I’m still supposed to marry his son. I’m pretty sure he’ll come to claim me for that alone.”
“There will be no wedding. Not between the two of you. I can end that as well.”
It was so much of what we most desperately needed. But at what cost?
I shook my head. “Rhyan will never agree to that.”
“I’m not bargaining with Rhyan, am I?”
“What makes you think I would agree? That I would want this? That I’d sentence him to such a fate? I’d be merely trading one Imperator’s prison for another.”
“Your choice to see it that way. But I am prepared to offer you more. A far bigger prize.” He leaned closer, his body looming over me, blocking the light from the chandelier above. “Something I know you desire greatly. You agree toserve me, and become one of my Ka. And I will help you get exactly what you want.”
“What I want? I want to leave here. I want you to tell the truth about what happened to Rhyan’s mother, un-name him forsworn, and then release him and Meera. You think there’s truly anything you can offer me beyond our freedom? Beyond our safety?”
“I know there is.” His eyes sparkled. “Because I know who the Emperor is keeping locked up inside his palace.” He smiled slowly, holding my gaze. “Lady Julianna.”
I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me.
Jules.
I shook my head, trying to remember what I was supposed to know, what I was supposed to say. “But she’s … she’s …”
“Alive? You can cut the act, Lyriana. I know you were made aware.” He stroked the top of the nahashim’s head. “Hetold me.”
Imperator Hart leaned forward and lifted the lid to another silver tray. This one was also lacking food. Instead, there were a dozen tightly wound scrolls. Letters. Imperator Hart picked one off the top and placed it in my hands.
“Go on. Read.”
I unraveled the parchment slowly and gasped.
To my favorite friend in the North—also my only friend in the North (a fact that does not make you any less my favorite, by the way)—
The shock of hearing Jules’s voice in my head the other day had been one thing. But to come face to face with her handwriting again was another. To read her wording, her specific turns of phrase. There was no doubt in my mind who’d written this. My heart hurt at the truth of it. At her lightness, the joy she’d once possessed. The letter was dated on Auriel’s Feast Day. Two years ago. My birthday. The night of her Revelation Ceremony. The night she was taken.
By the time you read this, most likely you’ll be back to your rigorous soturion training.
Jules had kept up a correspondence with Rhyan. She’d written to him the last night she’d been in Bamaria.
“Where did you get this?” I asked, my heart pounding.
“A copy,” he said. “We copied all of her letters as they arrived. The originals, sad to say, are gone. My son, in his anger after receiving this one—the last one, burned the others in a fit. I’ll spoil the ending for you, but this was the night he learned about you and Lord Grey.” He chuckled. “He was absolutely devastated.”
