She swallowed hard. Beneath the table, Carver grasped her shaking hand. The rush of comfort was immediate. She clutched his fingers, her hold ironclad.
He didn’t look at her. His gaze was locked on the knights.
Amryn cleared her throat and tried to remember what she’d heard the others say. “I’m Amryn Lukis Vincetti. I was the Chosen from Ferradin. I’m married to Carver.”
Carver’s thumb caressed her taut skin, his focus still aimed across the long table. He didn’t hesitate to speak next. “I’m General Carver Vincetti of Westmont.” The edge in his voice almost made his name sound like a warning.
Considering his reputation, it rather was.
The introductions continued, but Amryn barely heard them as her mind raced. The bloodstone was shielding her. Even with feeling for herself how that protection worked, it was difficult to trust in something so miraculous. And yet, with every second that passed without the knights looking at her, she began to believe it a little more. Her heartbeat began to slow. And she finally became aware that Carver’s thumb—which had continued to move all this time, gently skating across her skin—was tracing out letters. Soft strokes forming one word, over and over.
Breathe.
Emotion nearly overwhelmed her. Carver was tracing letters on her hand, just like she’d told him Rix had done for her in the past. To calm her. Ground her.Remind her that she was not alone. Despite her lingering anxiety and the painful grip of uncertainty, she did what Carver told her to do.
She breathed.
The meeting unfolded around her. Amryn didn’t truly feel a part of it, even when she was asked to speak. The emperor wanted everyone from Esperance to share their experiences. Nothing was held back, since the emperor wanted everyone in this room to know all that had transpired.
As the hours passed, servants brought in food. No one did more than pick at the offerings. Everyone was too busy listening, speculating, or arguing about their next steps.
“We must not show any hint of weakness,” the emperor finally said, cutting into the verbal fray. “The search for Argent will continue, but quietly. We cannot risk our enemies learning he’s unguarded. We’ll tell everyone outside this room that he remains isolated in his room as he recovers from an illness.” He looked to two uniformed men. Thanks to the introductions, Amryn knew they were Morelli and Keats. “Use all your resources to find him, as well as Tam Ja’Kell.”
“It will be done,” Morelli said, as Keats nodded grimly.
“What of the Craethen Council?” Chancellor Morav asked.
“The empty seats must be filled,” the emperor declared. “I’ll send word to every kingdom that lost their representative so they can select a new one. But until new appointments are made, the Council will not conduct any official meetings. For now, their only assignment is to demonstrate a united front to all of Craethen.”
“Will more marriages be arranged?” Highest Cleric Jeremiah asked.
Ivan stiffened, his eyes cutting to the emperor.
Emperor Vayne released a long sigh. “I had planned to do so, after Cora’s death. But now that we’ve lost so many . . .” He shook his head. “No. We will not arrange further marriages.” He looked at each of the Chosen. “It was never the plan for your successors to intermarry. Your marriages were designed as a strong foundation for the Craethen Council to be built upon.”
Carver’s father leaned forward. “Rumors will spread about what happened at Esperance. I suggest you put out an official statement, Your Eminence. It is the best way to show our strength not only to all the kingdoms in the empire, but to our enemies as well.”
“I agree with the High General,” Chancellor Morav said. “A statement will make it clear that we are in control. To that end, I suggest that you also host a ball.”
“A ball?” Lisbeth arched a brow. “Is this truly the time for levity?”
“It’s not levity,” Morav argued. “It’s strategy. How can the empire give credence to any rumors of failure when the emperor celebrates the Chosen’s early return with a ball?” She looked to the emperor. “You can invite select noble families from the surrounding kingdoms. Give a speech. Make it clear that bringing the Chosen to the capital was a calculated decision. Condemn the Rising. Show the world the empire remains strong.”
The emperor hummed low in his throat. “An insightful suggestion, Morav. I want you to work with Hector and Jayveh to make the arrangements. Will six weeks give you enough time?”
Morav glanced toward the emperor’s steward. The thin man was hunched over as he wrote everything down, but he looked up so he could nod. “Yes, Your Eminence. We’ll get the invitations sent right away.”
“Excellent,” the emperor said. He leaned back in his chair. “I would also like to introduce the Chosen to all my advisors and the nobles in my court, so I will hold a feast tomorrow night. I want all of you there.”
Around the four tables, everyone nodded.
“If I may, Your Eminence,” Zacharias said, inserting himself into the brief silence. “I feel it would be unwise to allow Amryn and Samuel to remain free.”
Beside her, Carver stiffened.
The emperor frowned. “Amryn received a full pardon from my grandson, and I intend to honor that. What’s more, I personally extend my thanks to her for all she risked in assisting the empire.” He cast her a faint smile, which Amryn wasn’t able to return. Then he sobered. “As for Samuel . . .” He glanced at the prince of Wendahl, who appeared pale, but looked on with a carefully neutral expression. Beside him, Sadia grasped his hand, holding tight.
“I have considered Samuel’s actions and weighed the consequences,” the emperor said. “In the end, the only true damage he caused was done solely to protect Sadia.”
