The faint rustle of sound he’d heard in the room ahead cut off, and a voice he didn’t recognize called out an order in Ashionen that he didn’t understand. But the startled, terrified gasp from Lore was proof enough of the threat awaiting him in that room. Fleeing would only leave her to die, and she didn’t deserve that. Soren steeled himself and didn’t bother hiding his presence. He stepped into the doorway, forcing his expression to remain calm as he took in the scene before him.
The farce of a meeting over tea between Lady Lore and Lady Vesper of the House of Aetos was marred by the body of a diplomatic worker who, thankfully, wasn’t Dariush but who hadn’t died quickly or easily, judging by the ropy mess of intestines that hung outside their body from a hole carved into their midsection. The gag tied around their mouth had kept whatever screams they’d let loose muffled in their throat. Their hands and legs had been tied to the chair, the rug beneath the furniture stained and damp from blood and other fluids. Soren didn’t know if the ambassador lay dead somewhere else in the embassy.
“Lay your weapons down, or her throat will be cut,” Vesper said before sipping her tea, as if she fully expected Soren to comply.
Soren’s gaze flicked to where Lore sat, pale-faced and stiff-spined, hands fisted over the skirt of her gown. Her head was tipped back, the sharp side of a knife held by a star priest pressed close to her skin. In the star priest’s other hand was a clarion crystal–tipped wand, indicating command of the aether.
His slight hesitation had Vesper sighing irritably. “If you use starfire, she will die, Prince Alasandair Rourke.”
He rather thought protesting that name and title would fall on deaf ears. “You have to know that murdering the Ashionen diplomatic delegation will not stop the Legion from going north to join the war.”
“Perhaps not, but it will be a political land mine for the emperor to traverse. One you will not be present to see. Now, your weapons or her life.”
He had no magician hiding him in shadow to sneak up on an unsuspecting target, not like when Artyom had held Raiah in the old Palace. Here, the star priest was one pound of pressure away from slitting Lore’s throat, and Soren wouldn’t be a warden if he let her die. The risk of setting either the star priest or Vesper on fire had to be weighed against the threat to an innocent life.
Telegraphing every move, Soren moved his finger away from the trigger and thumbed on the safety of his pistol even as he crouched to set his poison short sword on the floor. He set his pistol down as well before moving slowly to unholster the second one hanging off his right hip. He sat that pistol on the floor as well, then unsheathed the dagger on his thigh and dropped it next to his short sword. Only then did he straighten, eyes on Vesper.
The lady who was the voice for the House of Aetos appeared calm and composed, though her outfit wasn’t one he’d ever seen her wear before. Gone were the light robes or breezy summer gowns favored by Solarians at the height of summer. In their place, she wore an Ashionen diplomatic uniform, and he wondered if she’d taken it from the premises or already had it before arriving. Either way, Soren knew enough of where her loyalties had lain in the past to see Joelle’s interference in what had happened in the embassy.
“You won’t kill Lore,” Soren said slowly, studying Vesper. “Not here, and not now. The moment you do, you must knowIwill killyou.”
Vesper smiled slightly at him, her gaze cold. “She is our assurance that you will comply with what we want.”
Soren grimaced, well aware of how true that statement was. “What did Joelle offer you to have you betray your country so thoroughly?”
“There is no betrayal when the House of Sa’Liandel would see us fight for a land that is not ours. I won’t help pay a debt that is not mine.”
“Vanya is fighting for Maricol, of which Solaria is a part of.”
“He’s fighting to tear us apart, and I will not see my country ruined because of his House’s wants. They’ve done enough damage, and it stops here.”
“By murdering the Ashionen delegation and kidnapping Queen Caris’ lady-in-waiting, a member of one of the oldest bloodlines in Ashion? Do you honestly think they won’t demand retribution from Vanya for your actions?”
“My House will not be found at fault.”
She spoke with such assuredness that Soren wondered if Joelle had been planning such an attack ever since the Ashionen ambassador started begging Solaria for help months ago. He didn’t think so grandly of himself as to believe she’d orchestrated all these murders in order to kill him. Vesper and Joelle couldn’t have known he would return or that he would return with such a past haunting his road.
No, Soren was certain whoever was meant to walk through the embassy’s front doors was meant to die. But if his presence could keep Lore alive, then he would do his best to find his way out of such a difficult situation.
“Joelle aligned herself with Eimarille, and that betrayal will seep into your House as well. You can’t call yourself Solarian if you’re working with Joelle to tear your country apart.”
Vesper set down her teacup with a careful hand, giving away nothing, ever a lady of a House. “You sleeping with the emperor doesn’t make you Solarian, not when you’re in bed with the Ashionens. I must admit, I hadn’t expected your return to our capital, but your arrival certainly presented an opportunity we couldn’t ignore.”
Soren thought about the promise he’d given Vanya in bed that morning, about the meal he’d been looking forward to sharing, and all the years they’d promised each other if they could just see the war through to the end. All of it slipped away as the seconds were counted off by the clock on the wall, in a place filled with the dead, burying him not unlike he’d once been buried in the royal crypt.
His gaze flicked to Lore, who watched him with wide, watery eyes, a thin trickle of blood sliding down her throat from where the knife had nicked her skin. Her lips trembled, but she didn’t beg. She wouldn’t have understood the conversation happening around her, but she’d have understood the meaning behind him setting aside his weapons.
“And how do you think to get us out of Calhames and past the active war zone around the House of Kimathi’svasilyet?” Soren asked.
Vesper’s smile was a slow, cruel thing, eyes shining with a victory that Soren refused to let her enjoy. She reached for a scrap of fabric on the table and lifted it up, the veil shimmering between her fingers. “One lie at a time.”
Thirteen
VANYA
Vanya’s meeting that morning with some of the senators to discuss proper allocation of the purse to support the needs of the Legion was interrupted by Caelum with an urgency he hadn’t seen in quite some time.
“Your Imperial Majesty, I am sorry, but I must speak with you,” Caelum said after he’d thrown open the meeting room door and offered a hasty bow.
