I reach for the cool stone in my lap, lifting it by the chain and slipping it over my head. The fact that I didn’t think ofthisproves I have no business attempting to assassinate the emperor. Hopefully whoever wielded the aether to create this pendant is powerful enough that it truly will hide my presence from the emperor as I attempt to sneak up on him.
Pushing that thought away, I focus on the steps I’ll take to get out of here, memorizing each direction until I can do it unthinkingly.
Time crawls.
Eventually, the sun must begin to rise. The vampires should be feeling the weight of the day, urging them to rest. But who knows when theemperor will retire for the day? The older the vampire, the longer they can go without sleep. Terror slowly transforms into boredom.
I must doze, because I jolt awake, confused and tense as light pours into the hidden space. Someone is standing above me in the closet.
I hold my breath, my entire body quivering. Any moment now, the door above my head will fly open, and I’ll be hauled out.
Will I feel the blade sink into me? Or will it be instantly over?
Stupid questions. The emperor will ensure my death lasts for days.
I can feel their presence, hovering above me. And even if I couldn’t sense them, I’d still hear their shallow breaths, would still see the shadow moving in the tiny gaps between the floorboards as they step inside and pause.
Something rustles.
Clothes.
I don’t move. I barely breathe.
And then it’s over.
The light disappears, and the relief makes me lightheaded, my eyes burning.
Voices sound, too low for me to hear anything but a rumble. A feminine voice joins them. After what feels like an eternity but is probably only an hour or so, all lights go dim.
I don’t move.
I’m armed with a weapon while the emperor falls asleep, oblivious. And yet I’m the one who is truly trapped.
Even if I could change my mind, could back out, the chance of me making it to the door and out of this palace without Rorrik’s distraction at dawn …
Beyond low.
I need to make my move. Now.
Slowly, gently, carefully, I push the door open.
My every sense is heightened, until I can feel the barest whisper of the draft from beneath the closet door, curling around my hands.
It takes me an eternity to climb from the hidden chamber, muscles stiff, bones aching, my every moment laced with tedium and pain. But I can’t rush. Even with the pendant firmly around my neck, I won’t risk the pop of a joint or the brush of my gown against wood.
I’m wearing a fucking gown to assassinate the emperor.
I push the thought away. If I focus on the ludicrous nature of mylife, I might do something stupid like burst into hysterical laughter. Or tears.
Evren and Gerith.With my brothers’ faces clasped firmly in my mind, I take a deep breath and crack open the closet door.
The room is dark, the curtains likely enchanted. I’m glad I took my time memorizing the location of the huge bed. With the pendant around my neck, I could likely dance my way toward the bed. But my instincts overrule any trust I might have in the emperor’s son, despite his obvious longing for his father’s throne.
Slowly, step by step, I creep toward the bed.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The emperor sleeps on his side, facing away from me—a tiny mercy. I would thank the gods, but I’m relatively sure Umbros is going to curse me for this.
