“Leon …”
He shrugs one shoulder, a hint of temper entering his eyes. “You and I both know you’ve been frozen in time. You stopped living the day she died.”
“So did you.”
One corner of his mouth quirks up. “And by doing that, I disgraced her memory.” He nods at the letter. “It won’t help. I know that much. Nothing will help. But … maybe you can start to heal. Just a little.”
“Thank you,” I say again.
We stare at each other awkwardly, and he clears his throat. “Maeva mentioned it looked like Bran was threatening you earlier.”
I sigh. “Maeva needs to stay out of it.”
He massages the muscles in the back of his neck, pinning me with a sharp look. “I’ve spoken to numerous vampires and searched through ancient texts. There’s no evidence that killing Bran would harm you. So tell me the truth, Arvelle.”
I take a seat on the bed, suddenly exhausted. “Two nights from now, the emperor will be at a dinner with the Vampire Council. Bran has instructed me to kill Vallius there.”
“Or what?”
“I don’t think he needed to specify an ‘or what.’ He has my brothers.”
“He wants you to kill the emperor in public?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a death sentence.”
My stomach twists, but I force myself to keep my voice even. “Yes.” I didn’t want to tell him, except … “When they kill me, they’ll interrogate anyone who knows me. I need you to leave, Leon. Tiernon knows Bran has my brothers. Please, make sure they’ll be safe.”
Leon’s face is white. “You won’t do this.”
“I will.” The words are cold. Certain. “I need you to make sure my brothers have a good life, Leon. Please.”
“No.You will not do this.”
Frustration bites at me. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”
“I’ll do it.”
I surge to my feet. “You willnot.”
“It’s not just for you. This is for your brothers. They don’t deserve to grow up without you.”
“You—”
With a stiff nod, Leon walks out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
I let him go. But I won’t let him throw his life away. It’s not happening.
I sit on my bed, smoothing the edges of the parchment. I can picture Kassia writing in her messy scrawl, folding it unevenly, and handing it to her father with that cocky grin that said he wouldn’t need it.
But she never expected the worst to happen.
No one ever does.
Hands shaking, I unfold it.
Arvelle,
