And yet she could still see it—the pain etched into the wrinkles of Mathjin’s skin as he spoke about his daughter and unborn grandchild, who had been slaughtered by an Asteryan soldier. His was a death she hadn’t allowed herself time to process, either. She wondered silently if Reid missed him, if he was experiencing the same churning, tumultuous emotions she was.
What she wouldn’t give to ask him.
She devoured every word of the letters. Every detail of the steel Dominik and Mathjin had smuggled to Ton, of the rebellion they’d stoked in Wrultho that had ultimately bled all over the Icrurian election. She couldn’t believe that the late foreman of Wrultho had been foolish enough to make deals with the son of the very Asteryan emperor who had scorned him the first time. Ton must have been desperate, more so than ever before.
Dominik’s notes made it clear that the brazen invasion of Icruria had been in pursuit of precisely what he’d been working with Lord Vlacik to uncover: magic. Vaasa understood now; that was why he’d gone to Mireh. The night he’d tried to poison her, Vaasa had all but given him a show, thinking he would believe she was struggling to control a curse. Had he already knownwhat her magic was? Had that been the real reason for arranging her abduction, possibly even her death?
Vaasa shuddered. Even though Dominik’s journal of drawings sat open on the desk beside her, stark proof of his humanity, the evidence of his evil glared up at her in the form of these records. He had tortured other witches. Had likely intended to torture her. With Lord Vlacik and the clergy involved, conspiracy was a crack in the foundation of this city. Of this empire. They wouldn’t stop until they had decimated what was left of Icruria’s already-dwindling covens.
It wasn’t enough to escape Mekës. She would find a way to stop them.
Which begged the question of why Ozik had left something like this for Vaasa to find. Why would he want to turn her against the very empire he intended for them to rule in tandem?
Locking everything back in the compartment in the desk, Vaasa set her head down for just a moment, just to rest her strained eyes.
“Long night?” a voice asked, and Vaasa shot up from the desk, stray hairs plastered to her face.
She sucked in a sharp breath as she stared at Ozik across the office. He stood in the doorframe, and she looked around, wondering how she hadn’t heard him enter. She peered at the clock standing in the corner. Hours had passed.
Vaasa smoothed out her wool dress and nodded. She didn’t feel inclined to speak to him. Part of her wanted to come right out and ask about the necklace, about all the witches he had let die, yet she knew better than to show her cards immediately. It was an assumption that he knew the secret drawer in her father’s desk existed at all. She had no intention of giving herselfaway this quickly—not until she’d managed a real search for her mother’s last gift.
He gestured for her to stand. “Come with me.”
“I’d rather not.”
He tilted his head predatorily.
She swallowed. The feeling of a fork driving through her hand was fresh in her mind, and Vaasa tensed. She breathed in through her nose and curled her fingers against the desk, pressing down in a subtle form of grounding. Then, Vaasa indignantly crossed her arms over her chest. “Tell me why you brought Roman here.”
A small pause. “Empresses have lovers all the time, Vaasalisa.”
Bile threatened to push up her throat. He would know.Hehad been the empress’s lover—her mother’s torrid affair. She curled her lip in disgust. “I have no interest in a lover.”
“Then don’t have one,” he suggested.
Vaasa narrowed her eyes, though she didn’t get up from the desk.
Ozik gave a heavy sigh, as if she were nothing but a petulant teenager. The sound of it was so familiar, a relic from the days he had tutored her. “I thought if you could see yourself here, perhaps you’d be more willing to rule. It is nothing more than that. I’ve known he was alive for quite some time, and when he arrived here, I agreed to let him stay. It was the least I could do, considering your brother and father sent him off to his death.”
“I don’t believe you,” Vaasa said. “What’s his bargain?”
Ozik arched a brow. “Not everyone I come across is a person I waste magic on. Sometimes, old-fashioned politics are enough.”
Again, she said, “I don’t believe you.”
He pursed his lips like there was a thought caught between his teeth, then relaxed his shoulders. “Your skill for observation is a gift, dear Vaasalisa. Don’t ever underestimate it.”
Vaasa wasn’t certain why she’d asked the question in the first place. Ozik was never going to give her a straight answer. She looked down at the desk for a moment, composing herself.
“I’ve answered your question. Now, come,” he said.
The cords between them circled one of her ribs and gave a sharp tug. Pained breath pushed out through her lips, a reminder that his willingness to answer her questions at all wasn’t a compromise; it was a gift. She fell back into whatever version of herself she had been before Icruria, pliant and obedient and afraid. Uncrossing her arms, her body moved without much thought. She stood from the chair.
She hated herself for the way he grinned.
They exited the emperor’s wing without a word, neither of them speaking to each other as they walked. Sun poured through the stained glass windows, throwing color all over the floor and walls in particularly well-lit passages. A cold gust of wind bit at Vaasa’s cheeks as Ozik opened the door to the courtyards at the back of the fortress, all placed at different levels on the mountain and connected by large stone bridges. Snow piled on the capstones in soft white, a few flurries falling harmlessly from the red and orange sky.
Ozik took one set of stairs after another, reaching a new level each time, until he led them to a familiar stone walkway on the far side of the fortress near the entrance to the game park, which sprawled in a valley behind the fortress. She realized quickly where they intended to go.
