He’s in the castle. He has to be. And that means he’ll be much easier to kill once I find out where exactly they’ve hidden him.
Nine
The drawing roomis a large space with windows lining an entire wall, filling the space with gray winter light. Gilded mirrors hang on the opposite wall, intensifying the effect. A piano sits in a corner, a large harp next to it. Several string instruments are on the ground nearby, as if abandoned.
The other walls are lined with oil paintings of musicians playing instruments. They’re dark and moody, using dark colors that cast shadows on most of the faces. It’s at odds with the light in the room. As if two opposing styles were used when decorating.
“Thank you for delivering the princess,” Caiden says to the lingering legionnaires who escorted me from my rooms. They bow to their prince, then leave me alone with him.
“Four?” I ask as soon as the door closes. He sent four men to escort me, and two others stayed behind to watch my door. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“No. I’m simply protecting my investment,” he says.
“Brevan is still away?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“That is not your concern,” he says.
“It is when he was sufficient to guard me by himself and since he left, I now need an entire legion to myself to keep me safe.” I set my hands on my hips while I study his reaction.
His expression doesn’t change. He’s very good at hiding whatever he’s feeling. “Six men is hardly a legion, but yes, Brevan is worth at least six by himself. So you do need more if he’s not around.”
I want him here so I can figure out how to take him down, but I suppose I could settle for him dying by someone else’s hand. “I hope wherever he is, he’s not in too much danger.”
“I wouldn’t worry about him,” Caiden says. “He’s faced death more times than anyone I know, and he always comes out laughing.”
“That’s an interesting way to describe someone who spends his time wiping out villages and killing innocents.” The words are out before I realize what I’ve said, and I press my lips together to keep myself from saying more.
“You’ve been asking questions, I see.” He makes an amused sound. “Or perhaps you learned more about my court than I realized before they sent you here.”
“Of course I learned about your court,” I say to cover my slipup.
“Did you also learn that those villages were conspiring against their emperor?” he asks. “Trying to revive ancient blood magic that could destroy all of us?”
“My education must have left that part out.” I cross my arms.
“For someone who watched her own father experiment on his people to try to recreate the magic we have here, you sure pass a lot of judgement.”
“Maybe I judge that, too,” I say.
“You’re naive, but you’ll learn,” he says. “You either show your people who is in charge and protect your power at all costs, or you lose it.”
“I think there must be other ways.”
“That’s because you’re a woman. You’re meant to be soft. Weak. Loyal and emotional. You’re meant to remind me of my humanity, but you would never have the ability to rule. You’d be crushed by a rebellion before your first year on the throne.”
Rage burns in my chest, and I’m so hot that my skin feels like it’s on fire. Maybe I should just kill him and hope the others can get to the emperor. Rid the world of at least one monster.
“I upset you.” He’s failing to hide his smirk.
“You underestimate me,” I reply.
“You don’t have to pretend you’re strong. If I wanted a woman who might kill me in my sleep, I’d have found a bride from the Shatterlands.”
Now I’m trying to hide my smirk. Because why hadn’t I thought of killing him in his sleep? “Is that why you need my father’s army? To fight against the women of the Shatterlands?”
