“There must be an explanation...” Aristea trailed off, her heart in her throat. She knew her brother; he wouldn’t betray the empire.
“We won’t know until we speak with him. But I’ve been keeping track of the dukes closest to the deceased Prince Heinrich, at your mother’s behest, and they are restless. Now that he’s gone, we’re hearing more and more of them calling for Mathias to be made heir.”
“But Mathias would never agree to that. He has no ambitions for power.” The voice had known. Before Captain Rosen had told her. How was such a thing possible?
“What else is in the dungeons?”
Captain Rosen seemed surprised by the change of subject. “Nothing as of now. Are you sure you’re alright, your majesty? You look pale.”
Aristea swallowed past the lump in her throat. It was madness. All of it.
Captain Rosen leaned forward across her desk. “I know he’s your brother, and it’s impossible to imagine a family member would betray us. But I think we need to be prepared for a possible attempted coup.”
Aristea wrung her hands together and then dropped them to her sides. She couldn’t show weakness. Even to the captain. But she was right. Aristea couldn’t know her brother’s heart. And even though she trusted him and couldn’t imagine he would turn against her, she also could not, as future empress, pretend the threat wasn’t very real.
“Thank you for telling me. I shall inform my mother straight away.”
“I’m sorry for giving you such troubling news, princess.”
Aristea waved away her concern. “You’re merely doing your duty. And I thank you for it.”
She excused herself and exited the tower as fast as her feet could carry her. But with each step she took toward her mother, she felt as if she were walking to her own funeral. She refused to believe Mathias would willingly betray them. But the voice’s whispered taunts had her second-guessing.
“If only you were strong enough to claim the throne with your own power,” the voice whispered. “But you aren’t, are you? The power is in your blood. You simply need something to awaken it. I can help you…”.
She turned, seeking its source. But she was alone, and she was afraid she was starting to jump at shadows. A few passing courtiers saw her spinning around like a madwoman, and Aristea laughed too high and falsely as she blamed her erratic behavior on an insect under her veil. She walked away as fast as she could, on the verge of a run. All the way to her mother’s chambers. The guards stepped aside and let her in. Mother was speaking with her steward, but when Aristea entered, she sent them away.
“What’s happened?” Mother asked.
Aristea unraveled all that Captain Rosen had told her. Mother looked pale by the end of it, and her hands were white-knuckled even while folded on the table in front of her. “We’ll keep this quiet. I agree with you. Mathias wouldn’t turn on our family this way. But we must move with caution. If some foreign entity has taken hold of him, if the elves have him… we are all in danger.”
Aristea felt the weight of it all landing on her shoulders. She felt powerless. Forces beyond her control were closing in, and what could she do? Maybe Heinrich was right, and she was useless.
“What about the duke’s dinner party? Any progress there?” Mother asked.
Aristea picked her thumbnail below the lip of the desk to keep her fidgeting out of sight. “The duke seems amiable to an alliance.”
“Marriage?” Mother asked bluntly.
Aristea nodded. “He implied as much in his toast. But isn’t it unseemly? I’m not even two months widowed...”
“I would not have you jump into another marriage so soon after the death of Heinrich. But we cannot dismiss important allies when our enemies are closing in.”
“Of course.” Aristea’s head sank down to her chest.
Mother stood and came around to kneel in front of her, the way she had when Aristea was small. She cupped each of Aristea’s cheeks. “I wish I did not have to lay this burden at your feet. Even though you’re older than I was when I inherited an empire, I still fear you’re too young. You’ve made so many sacrifices. If you do not wish this marriage, tell me now and I will find another way.”
The refusal was on the tip of her tongue. Mother would be good to her word, she knew. But asking for it, knowing that her claim was shaky as it was, felt too selfish.
“I’m willing to give my all for the empire. Don’t worry.”
12
Even with his healing ability, Erich was sore from his fight. But despite Fritz’s suggestion that he rest before attempting to use Leonhard’s token, he’d risen early to join the queue outside the temple. Fritz had insisted on coming with him, which felt dangerous, but the elf had the ability to shift his appearance and had previously infiltrated the temple in Artria, so he didn’t argue. Despite the guild master’s assurances they’d be granted entrance without problem, Erich was still skeptical, and his grip on the handle of his dagger hadn’t loosened once. Days ago, he’d been a wanted man. Now he could play the role of visiting prince as much as it repulsed him to slip on his shed identity, it was useful. Like previous days, there was a long line snaking its way down the street. They passed them by, token clenched in Erich’s fist. Midnight Guards blocked the entrance, and with sweating palms, Erich raised his head to meet the guard’s gaze. He donned the prince’s mask once again, pulling it on like a second skin. Gaining entrance required the confidence of someone who belonged there. He let go of his dagger, and kept his hands loose at his sides, and a smile in place.
The Midnight Guard looked him up and down. Did they recognize him from his wanted poster? And would they swarm him to take him into custody for his audacity to show up here, a monster parading around as a man? He resisted the urge to reach for his dagger, though the impulse was great. Fritz stood beside him, looking around at the crowd and the temple, as if he were the wide-eyed servant he was pretending to be.
“I’m Prince Erich of Sundland,” he said, thrusting his signet ring toward the guard. The token the pit master gave him was clutched in Erich’s palm.
