“And when your descendants suffer in their reigns of renown,” the voice began with a hiss, no longer playful and toying.
“Do not forget, oh great and mighty King,”
“That you are the one who cursed their crown.”
1
Clarissa
TWO HUNDRED YEARS LATER
Aris,
Your presence is requested in the council room at precisely eleven o’clock. I trust this gives you time to coordinate your extraneous activities so you will be prompt and prepared for our meeting.
Signed,
Everen Stryker
Inarrowed my eyes at the message, sliding my tongue along my teeth as I crumpled it in my hand. Whirling to my desk in the far corner, I yanked out a fresh piece of parchment and pencil.
I spat the words aloud as I wrote them. “Thank—you—for—your—note—Lord—Stryker.” I paused, the pencil biting into the paper. “Kindly—go—shove—your—foot—up?—”
“Well, I certainly hope that message isn’t forme.”
Glancing up to the door, I saw the familiar blonde-and-gray hair wrapped in a low bun, kind hazel eyes, and wrinkled features of my mother, Evadine.
With a sigh, I set the pencil down. “Of course not, Mother. Just taking some frustrationout.”
“On your desk? Sweet girl, I don’t think your father would approve of his antiques being treated as your battering ram.”
“Well then, he shouldn’t have left them here.”
My mother’s low hum was the only reaction to my comment. I closed my eyes and scratched at my brow. “I’m sorry. Lord Stryker and the rest of the council are getting to me.”
She strode across the room and began straightening the haphazard pile of books, decrees, and letters on my desk. Ever the dutiful caretaker. Even more so since she recovered from a sickness that had her incapacitated in bed for over a decade.
Almost sixteen years. The same amount of time it had been since I lost my father.
“You don’t have to be perfect all the time, Clarissa,” she said quietly. “Even the great Empress of the Veridian Empire is allowed to have moments of weakness.”
“Futureempress, remember?” I scoffed. “There’s still four months left of the provisional period.” Even though my father had once been Veridia’s emperor, when he abdicated the throne, he voluntarily gave up his line of succession. Emperor Theodore Gayl, the man who took his place, had to go through a similar provisional time over twenty years ago.
In the eyes of the law, it didn’t matter who my father was. I had as much claim to the throne as anyone else.
Mother waved her hand in the air. “Technicalities. You’ve been running this empire for eight months now.”
“Try telling that to Lord Stryker.” I threw myself into the emerald cushioned chair behind my desk. “He’s always there to remind me. To catcheveryimperfection.Everyslip of the tongue. And constantly comparing me to Gayl, as if I could ever forget the man. ‘Emperor Gayl wouldn’t have allowed such frivolous travel among provinces,’” I mocked. “Well, mybelovedpredecessor also subjected thousands of people to a sleeping curse, so I’m not sure he’s the best role model. Thanks, though.”
My mother simply gave me her tight-lipped smile as I went on—her normal response when I went into my tirades. I had so fewpeople I felt comfortable slipping out of my “official empress persona” around, and she was one of them.
I had stepped into this new position of power only eight months ago, after Theodore Gayl died. While some days it felt like I’d been preparing my whole life to take on this role, what with my father being emperor before the late Gayl, in the back of my mind, I never truly thought this time would come.
I’d spentyearsfighting against Gayl’s rule from the shadows, forming a rebellion made up of those he’d wronged in his reign of all-consuming power. His entire purpose was to elevate the strongest of the land and crush the weaker beneath his boots. To create so much division and strife between his people that they resorted to fighting in the streets, forced to flee from their homes or hide away in seclusion. For so long, my sights had been set on the day we finally removed him from the throne and started to make things right.
But perhaps I hadn’t fully prepared myself to move into the light. To trade my secrets, covert meetings, and network of spies for a title and a place on the world’s stage.
“You’re twenty-eight years old, Clarissa. The youngest ruler this land has ever seen.” My mother rested her hands on the desk across from me. “You have caused a shockwave of change, my dear. If you believed the rebellion was difficult, leading these people may prove to be infinitely harder.”
