He doesn’t say a word. He stands there, and he blocks the way, and I can see from that furious, stubborn look on his face, this is it. This is the moment I’m going to have to make a choice. And just for one fucked-up second, I think it’s him. I think, with the flicker of my eyes in search of a weapon, that I’d actually defend him. That I’d sink five years of my life, my freedom, my family, my very existence, for him.
But before he opens his mouth, before the Emperor slaps him, before I throw the man to the floor and snap his neck in front of everyone, Max steps in between them and bows. Some frantic, sycophantic slurry of words sloughs out of him, but I can’t hear any of it. Can’t see a thing but Robin.
Steadfast. Beautiful. Protective.
About to get us both killed.
“Please get the men,” I tell him weakly. “You all need to go back now.”
The smallest shake of his head, his eyes remaining still. “You need to come back with us tonight.”
My heart beats for him. My blood flows for him.
At his words, the Emperor swivels back to me, flicking his head away from Max, even as he talks on, forever trying to gain the man’s favor, gunning for my place as captain and favorite.
Robin says, “They’re drunk. Some of them. I think they need you to take them back now. Or a fight might break out.”
“The guards can surely do it,” the Emperor snaps out.
“I wouldn’t chance it,” Robin continues, eyes firm on mine. “I’m worried what might happen if you don’t. You should at least see them safely locked in their cells.”
“Maybe I should…” I whisper.
“You should not.” The Emperor almost laughs in disbelief I’ve said it. His grip on me tightens, but Robin doesn’t move an inch.
I don’t think another person in this room could have any idea how dangerous this situation is, beyond me and Robin. I can feel the tension radiating off the Emperor now. He’s wanted me all night, and now this upstart is making demands of me, his prize pet. I cannot be seen to be choosing Robin over him, not for either of our sakes.
“I have a meeting,” I tell him firmly. But all it does is harden his features, his jaw locking in place.
“Do you?” he presses, voice and eyes like steel, the simple question a dark threat.
It feels like the floor’s given way, and we’re in freefall. I can’t let this happen.
“Robin, go back with the men now.”
“No.”
There was a time the insubordination would have been enough for me to slap him, right here in front of everyone. But I’m not embarrassed now. I’m not ashamed. I’m only terrified for him. That, mixed with the racking guilt that he’s doing this for me.
Maybe I should slap him anyway. Let the Emperor see he’s not a threat. Let Robin hate me. Because if he hated me, if I hadn’t gone out on that balcony with him, this wouldn’t be happening.
“Robin—”
“Father.” Julius appears out of nowhere, tight-lipped as ever.
“I’m in the middle of something,” the Emperor hisses, tugging at my arm like a toddler pulling along a miserable dog.
“Father,” Julius repeats, only with so much strictly restrained poison that even the Emperor stills. “Jonathanwould like tospeakwithyouabout theCrown Shippingcontract,” he spits out, sharp emphasis on every other word. “He isinterestedinsponsoringthis year’sfinale.” He accompanies his words with such a hate-filled and obstinate glare that the grip on me loosens, lets go, and slides forward to meet a new hand.
It feels as if he’s let go of my heart in the same gesture.
Max knows enough to step away, even if he does it with low shoulders, knowing he’s missed his opportunity to impress.
Not Robin. He waits for me.
And I don’t need to be asked twice.
I move fast after Max, having him and René gather the others. I work through the room, swiftly and courteously, saying goodnight to everyone of consequence to me or anyone I care about.
