I hear her before I see her, my ears already attuned to the beating of her heart, thudding in time with my own.
Ingra slips through the door, a heavy-looking crossbow clutched in her arms. She props it on her hip while she wipes at the sweat dewing on her brow. Then, cautiously, she moves forward, sinking into a crouch before the golden railing and scanning the ballroom for her target. As soon as she spots Hal speaking politely with a group of Vosti courtiers, she nocks the single bolt, squeezes one eye shut and takes aim.
‘Ingra,’ I say, stepping out of the shadows.
She starts, and whips her head round. Then her mouth splits into a gleeful smile. ‘Come to watch the show from the royal box?’
‘Not exactly.’
Her smile fades.
I realized last night that I had a choice to make, one that would rip me in two as callously as the Earth Cleaver tore apart the realm. It’s little wonder I feel emptier than the Rift. For I made my choice, and I choose Hal. Because I’m selfish. Because I can’t lose him. Because Ilovehim. Even if loving him means betraying my friends and, by extension, my people. Even if it makes me the most despicable person who ever lived.
So be it. Iwon’tlet him die.
Ingra’s eyes are narrowed, and her fingers tighten round the crossbow.
I could’ve prevented this. I could’ve blown the whistle on the attack the moment I learned of it. But doing so would have meant confessing how I became privy to it and, more importantly, who was behind it. The serfs involved would’ve been punished – even executed. No, I couldn’t expose their plan, so I’m just going to have to make sure it doesn’t succeed.
‘Don’t do this, Ingra,’ I say evenly.
Her voice is acidic. ‘Why not?’
What answer can I possibly give? That it’s too dangerous? That she’s risking her life? She knows this. Nothing I say will dissuade her now. She’s made her choice, just as I’ve made mine. My only hope is the truth.
I glance over the railing to where Hal, having escaped his entourage, is standing with his back to us, entertaining a group of children by conjuring tiny orbs of light.
Hal is not his grandfather. He is not responsible for the atrocities committed by those who came before. He is good and gentle and kind. He can make things right.
I drag in a breath and say, ‘Because he doesn’t deserve it.’
This catches Ingra off guard. She stares at me, bewildered. Then her expression shifts, understanding sparking to life in her dark eyes. ‘No,’ she breathes.
I say nothing.
‘I don’tbelieveit.’ Her shoulders begin to quiver. It takes me a moment to realize that she’s laughing. ‘This is just too good,’ she snickers, lowering the crossbow a fraction. ‘He’syour Emmeric?Seriously? Him?The Gods-damnedemperor?He’syour secret lover?’
The smallest dip of my chin is my only response.
She sits back on her heels and shakes her head. ‘Oh, Elva. Oh, you stupid,stupidgirl. What were you thinking?’
‘It’s not like that.’
‘Then what’s it like?’
‘We …’ I swallow. ‘Weloveeach other.’
This sets her off again. ‘Puh-lease.’
‘You don’t know him.’
‘I know his kind.’
‘He’s different. Ingra, listen to me – he’s going to free the serfs.’
‘Ohreally? Is that what he told you to get you into bed?’
‘I swear it. He’s –’
