Carver snorted, shaking his head. “You think everyone around you leads a perfect life. That you’re the only one suffering. But no one’s life is perfect.”
“Yes, it must be so hard to be you,” he shot back. “The beloved firstborn son. The favorite brother. The emperor’s shining general. A war hero. Married to a beautiful wife. What a terrible life you lead.”
Images flashed, each more painful than the last. Bloody battlefields. Blood-soaked hands. Burying children in shallow graves. Watching his men die horrificallyin a sweltering jungle. Raza’s smile. Wrists bleeding as he fought his chains. Back burning under the cutting pain of the lash—
He closed his eyes, forcing those memories away.
“You may have spent months being tortured,” Berron said with quiet, blistering anger. “But you have both your hands. Both your eyes. You’re a bloody hero. You didn’t truly lose anything.”
Carver’s eyes opened slowly. “You have no idea what I lost in that hell.”
Berron held his stare, but only for a moment. He looked away, his jaw tight. “Get out,” he clipped, repeating his earlier request.
Carver strode for the door, a dull roaring in his ears. It was only as he grasped the handle that he remembered there was something else he’d intended to say. “I’m sorry about Rivard. I know you considered him a friend.”
Silence behind him. Then, “So did you, once.”
The words he didn’t say were clear enough.You’re the reason he was in my life. It’s your fault he gave mesonne.
“Did you ever wonder what Rivard and I bonded over?” Berron asked.
Carver didn’t turn. He didn’t want to see his brother’s expression. Didn’t need to see it, because hefeltthe scorn in it. It burned between his tensed shoulder blades.
“We had something in common,” Berron said. “Perfect older brothers. Saints, what a curse they are.”
Carver’s hand trembled as he yanked open the door. He left the shadowed room behind, along with the man who had once been his younger brother.
Chapter 29
Amryn
“Relax,”Ivansaid,hislow voice rumbling.
Amryn stopped pacing, but she couldn’t stop wringing her hands. Samuel’s nerves hammered her from where he sat in a hard-backed chair. The back corner of the library surrounded them with towering shelves, the smells of leather, paper, and dust hanging heavy in the air. The palace library was impressive, though not as large as the one in Esperance.
Amryn wondered if Felinus was there right now, researching the bloodstones. She missed the old cleric. She could have used some of his quiet calm right now.
Bram was late.
Ivan stood in the corner, loaded bookshelves framing him. The vantage made it impossible for anyone to sneak up on him, and he was able to easily monitor her and Samuel, as well as the only walkway that led into this deserted corner.
“What if he doesn’t come?” Samuel asked quietly.
Amryn’s stomach rolled. It could mean the Rising had learned she’d betrayed them at Esperance—or at the very least, that they suspected as much. Maybe Tam had reached someone, and they believed her story over Amryn’s. Or maybe Bram had spotted Ivan entering with her and Samuel, and he’d decided not to risk the meeting.
“There could be many reasons for his delay,” Ivan said flatly. “There is no point in worrying yet.”
Amryn glanced at Ivan. His hand was braced loosely around the hilt of the dagger sheathed at his hip. While anxiety tightened Amryn’s skin, Ivan was still, with just a hint of adrenaline riding beneath the surface. Her voice low, she asked, “Are you really all right with this?”
He met her stare. “I have shared my views about the Rising with you before. They have not changed.”
“Is it all right ifIhave doubts?” Samuel asked.
Amryn and Ivan both looked at him.
Color bled across his cheeks, but Samuel didn’t look away. “I hate Tam for what she did. She killed without remorse. She threatened Sadia to gain my compliance. I don’t regret turning against her. But I joined the Rising for a reason. Didn’t you, Amryn?”
She had. Not just because Rix and Torin had asked her to, but because she’dwantedto help the rebels fight against an empire that had committed countless atrocities. “Yes,” she whispered.
