None of it was actually a lie. Walking in the humidity felt as strange as if I had dropped to the bottom of the ocean and suddenly been able to breathe. It was just as difficult to walk through the air that felt as dense as water.
“We can begin moving toward the Chaliko residence as the scouts check ahead.” General Saxu nodded significantly at Commander Rede, and the other saluted with a hand over his heart before jogging off, calling out three names quickly.
It took several minutes to collect the rest of the group, and servants quickly put away supplies and soldiers readied their weapons. I leaned close to Tallu.
“What’s wrong?”
He shook his head, then wet his lips, and normally the sight of his tongue moving over his plush lips would have been enough towake something in my stomach, but I saw his throat working more than necessary, trying to swallow some moisture.
“I can feel it inside me. I feel as though, if I used any of my magic, everything inside of me would split open, and I would bleed to death from some internal wound that not even blood magic could heal.” He lifted a hand to his chest, pressing it tight for a second before dropping his arm back to cradle Naî.
She curled closer to his chest. This must be even more painful for her than being close to the volcano. There, we had only been exposed to the lava for a few short hours, then afterward we had been ensconced in the Lakeshore Palace where the heat was only present at the outermost edges of the walls facing Krustau.
Here, the heat was relentless, unending, and Naî had not uttered a single word of complaint.
“Tallu.” But I wasn’t sure what else to say. Finally, I settled on, “We will be somewhere you can rest soon.”
I could not unsee the image of him splitting open like an overripe fruit, everything inside spilling out on the ground in front of me, and all of this—all this sacrifice, all the risk—having been for nothing.
But his eyes snapped open, glaring at me. “Do not think to risk yourself for me.”
I shook my head, the smile at the edges of my lips turning true. “I would say the same to you. Except I know my words would pass over you like water as I know you hear only what you wish to.”
“Ihear only what I want to?” Tallu opened his mouth and then shut it in annoyance. “I believe you’re speaking of the Emperor’s Consort.”
“What?” I teased. “I can’t hear you.”
Before he could argue, one of his servants cleared their throat, silently gesturing that it was time to go. The soldiers kept closer to our group, tightly knotted around us, each ready for something to attack.
Even Tallu’s new Dogs kept themselves within two hand-lengths of him, quietly nudging me away from his side until he reached out and grabbed hold of my wrist, dragging me against him, with a single glance forcing them to protect us both.
We’d only traveled for a few minutes before it became apparent what Sagam and his sister had done after escaping into the swampland. When we had first walked through the swamp, the trees had grown thick around us, vines having to be cut away before the entire group could fit through. Now the trees leaned away from a clear path. In the distance, a large house was visible, built in the imperial style with columns and marble walls.
Joxii stood to the side, nearly hiding in the shadow of one of the contorted trees, while Sagam stood in the middle of the road he and his sister had created.
The scouts had gone on ahead, Commander Rede’s military uniform a different color from his underlings. Sagam bowed low when our group approached, and the soldiers hesitated before allowing him to pass between them.
Once in front of Tallu, Sagam dropped to his knees and then pressed his forehead to the damp earth. Even here, on land, the water seemed to soak in around us, as though if I stomped hard enough, I would break through and find the murky swamp water beneath.
Sagam waited, and Tallu gazed down at him, his russet eyes as sharp as a hunting hawk’s. I wasn’t sure what calculation Tallu was making, but I knew for a fact that Sagam was too useful to be abandoned now.
“Rise. You have served me well. You have given us hope through your own sacrifice.” Then Tallu stepped forward, the soldiers and Dogs forced to move with him, all of them stepping around the still-prostrated Sagam.
I bent low, touching Sagam’s shoulder. When the group had passed, he finally sat up, resting on his heels. His expression was broken, unhappy.
“You once told me that you believed I bore His ImperialMajesty no ill will and that the magic I used was only ever to his benefit.” I waited for Sagam to meet my gaze, his eyes widening before narrowing into a frown. “Do you think for a moment that I would think any less of you? Do you think that His Imperial Majesty, married to me and the magic I wield, would not understand thatintentionis often more important than laws passed when the Imperium was not at war with itself?”
“You are a northerner.” Sagam dropped his eyes. “Using this magic proves that I… that I am an heir of Tavornai. That I am no more imperial than you.”
“I am married to Dragon Chosen Emperor Tallu Atobe.” I stood, extending my hand. Sagam took it, gripping my wrist as he rose to his feet. “That makes me a member of House Atobe. Fewareas imperial as I am. If we are going by bloodlines alone, you are half imperial, and your actions show that you are more loyal to the Imperium than full-bloods like Kacha or Bemishu, or anyone else who follows them.”
Sagam gave me a wry look. “While I understand what you are trying to do, I would hope that I am more loyal to His Imperial Majesty than two traitors and the leeches that sought succor from His Imperial Majesty’s throat when they thought him weak.”
I grinned at him. “You are too smart for me, Sagam. I am very grateful you are on our side.”
And it was true, even though it made me nauseous to think about. The idea that a man who had given up his own happiness to save his sisters and was unfailingly loyal to me and Tallu when we could never reveal our true objectives to him made something in me break open. I could not get the men who had helped me with the bombs earlier out of my head. How many of them had survived the swamp? How many of them still lived? They had followed me and I had led them to their deaths without even a hint that it was coming.
I wasn’t sure why it was different now. When I had been training, when I had come to the Imperium, I had expected to have tokill many of them—many people of the nation that wanted my own in chains. But now I knew them. They were no longer a faceless mass of cruel imperials. Now they had names. They had sisters of their own.
