Amryn’s grip was nearly strangling around his hand, but he only held her tighter, needing her strength and comfort. Needingher.
The emperor exhaled thinly, no longer coughing. His strength was nearly gone.
It was clear the moment Jayveh realized the inevitability of what was to come. There was grief in her expression. Fear. Even a last, desperate flash of denial that ripped across her face. But then there was determination. Strength. A steel-like resolve Carver knew would not be easily shaken.
Jayveh leaned down and brushed a kiss against the emperor’s wrinkled brow. “I will find Argent,” she whispered. “But until I do, I swear I will protect his child and his throne.”
“Thank you,” the emperor croaked. He blinked, then closed his eyes. “I will watch over you, my dear,” he promised, his words sure even though his voice was weak. “I will . . . watch over . . . all of you.”
Jayveh kissed the back of his hand, paying no heed to the tears that tracked silently down her cheeks. “Be at peace,” she whispered.
The emperor’s eyes opened slowly . . . and they did not close again.
With a last, shaky exhale, the emperor of Craethen died.
Chapter 63
Amryn
Jayvehsatontheimperial throne, staring out at the throne room. The air in the cavernous space hung heavily. Chancellors, generals, and clerics were all gathered, along with the Chosen and the visiting royals. It was the middle of the night, but no one was thinking of sleep.
The garden had been left behind. The emperor’s top advisors and some of the most influential people in the empire were gathered in the throne room, everyone looking to Jayveh.
The Xerran princess—now the empress of Craethen, for all intents and purposes—viewed the room. Her spine was straight, her expression fierce. Amryn knew her grief was vast, but her eyes were dry as she said, “The emperor’s death is a terrible blow for us all. But it is not the end of Craethen.”
Amryn stood near the front of the room, holding Carver’s hand. Rix and Torin stood on one side of her, and Carver and his father stood on the other. While she did not mourn the emperor’s passing, Amryn felt grief. Carver’s, Cregon’s, Jayveh’s, and a room full of others who mourned his death. And perhaps she felt a stirring of sorrow for a life lost so violently, especially when she might have been able to save it. If the emperor had not made such a thing impossible.
But even though the emperor might not have been the complete monster Amryn had spent her life fearing, she could not weep for him. The man had turned the world against empaths, giving the church and knights full authority to hunt and killthem. He had obliterated her kingdom, taking it for his own. He was responsible for so much death—including members of her own family.
No, she would not mourn Emperor Lorcan Vayne. But she would mourn with Carver, who had lost a man he’d loved, respected, and served. And she would cry with Jayveh, who was now without her most ardent protector.
“The Amins will be interrogated, tried, and found guilty,” Jayveh continued, her tone both grim and firm. “They will be executed for assassinating the emperor.”
“Where is Argent?” a chancellor Amryn didn’t know the name of asked. “Shouldn’t he be here, ill or not?”
Murmurs broke out.
Jayveh’s voice cut through them as she declared, “Prince Argent is not here.”
Gasps and whispers rippled through the throne room. Those who didn’t know the truth wore expressions of uncertainty. Those whodidknow looked to Jayveh, their concern obvious, though no one spoke against her.
Amryn’s stomach knotted, even though she knew this was the only option. No one would believe Argent was so ill he couldn’t be seen now that the emperor had been killed. If Jayveh wanted the support of the court, she needed to be honest. However, Cregon and Hector had both cautioned partial truth, and that is what Jayveh went with now.
“Argent was stolen from Esperance by the Rising.” Her chin lifted a fraction, the motion utterly imperial as she faced the gathered crowd. “Tonight, we captured one of their spies. We will learn where Argent is, and he will be recovered.” She looked to Cregon, though her words were for the room. “I have already asked High General Vincetti to personally oversee this most important task of bringing Argent home.”
Cregon pressed a fist over his heart as he inclined his head. “It will be done, Your Eminence.”
Jayveh blinked at the unexpected title, but she recovered quickly. “Thank you.” To the room, she said, “Until Argent returns, I will rule in his stead.”
The chancellor who had first addressed Jayveh spoke again. “There is no reason for you to take on this extra burden. You have your health to consider, as well as your child’s. The risk to both of you is already great—”
“My child has been in danger since his conception,” Jayveh overrode him. “His blood makes him a target, whether I sit on thethrone or not.”
“But there are protocols in place,” the man said. “The chancellors stand ready to manage the affairs of the empire, which would leave you free to care for yourself and your unborn child.”
“No.” High Cleric Lisbeth stepped forward. Her eyes were rimmed red, though her tears had ceased. “Many of us were a witness to the emperor’s final words. His last command was for Imperial Princess Jayveh to take the throne.” Her jaw locked. “The church, at least, will uphold his dying wish.”
“As will the knights,” Rhone said. His dark tone was threat enough, but his hand also rested on his sheathed sword.
