“I betrayed a betrayer,” Draedyn said simply. As simple as his clothing now stained with silver blood. As simple as the black stone floor which reflected the evidence of death. His power was simple, straightforward, easy to comprehend, and effortless. That was what this demonstration was about.
He shook his head, denying my conclusion. “There are dozens of other ways for me to demonstrate my power if I felt you needed further proof. I have merely killed your enemy, heir-daughter. Though,” he said, using his sack tunic to wipe the silver from his huge emerald talons, “I’d expected you to kill him yourself as retribution.”
I stared at the scratch I’d given the Phaetyn prince. Yes, he’d betrayed me and Lani and Kamini and the Phaetyn people. It might be easier to name those he hadn’t betrayed. But dealing out his justice hadn’t been my responsibility. That had been up to Lani. By betraying us, he’d nearly ruined Lani’s rule before it began, but instead of ruining it, he’d united the Phaetyn behind her. His plan to marry me was bad, but it hadn’t happened. Even in his betrayal of me to Draedyn, I was still alive. I could still do something.
The creeping emerald darkness reappeared, crawling toward me, and I gathered Draedyn wasn’t impressed with my way of thinking.
“So that was my welcoming gift, huh?” I asked him, still dazed by the gory scene before me.
The emperor, my father, stepped over Kamoi’s corpse and ambled to the doorway. We might’ve been discussing the weather if not for the stench of blood and sweat lingering in the air of my bedchamber.
“A gift,” he said, turning back. His emerald gaze held mine. “Yes, you may think of it as a gift and a lesson.”
I watched him disappear out the door, my stomach churning. I might have been young, but I wasn’t a fool. That was no gift, and the only lesson was confirmation of his brutality.
I betrayed a betrayer.
I lie to the liars.
I kill those who kill.
His words were a warning to behave. A firsthand show of the way he ruled his empire—as simply as he seemed to do everything else. Direct and severe.
I gagged and covered my mouth as I looked upon Kamoi’s body again.
My mind wasn’t safe. My body was only on lease to me for the time being. But I’d been in places I couldn’t get out of before. I’d had to bide my time, take risks, and probably take a beating or two.
But right now, I had no idea how I would ever escape this place.
Draedyn and I were both immortal, but then Irdelron had been immortal too.
30
I traipsed through the hallways of Draedyn’s abode, following after two servants dressed in a sack-like tunic closely resembling my father’s. The servants were dressed in black uniforms of a severe cut. As I stared at the servants’ suits, I realized the material was the same as my couch. Nice. Apparently, Draedyn liked things to match: the servants to the furniture and father to daughter.
How quaint.
The entire residence was cut into the black graphite cliff. The passages were dark, and I shifted my eyes to see. How did his servants get around without constantly tripping? Maybe he kept them in the dark for sick reasons of his own.
The two servants stopped walking and took their places on either side of a low and open doorway.
Murmuring voices swept out of the room toward me, and I tugged at the bottom of my sack. The plain tunic covered me from the tips of my shoulders all the way to my knees. I was barefoot, but I’d torn off a bit of my black nightgown to tie my silver hair back into a ponytail to keep it out of my face. Maybe I’d get a chance to fight my way out today. Maybe my chest would stop aching for Tyrrik.
Both were equally unlikely; the first because Draedyn would know escape was my intention, and the second, well, same reason.
“I go in there?” I asked the sentries.
Neither of them even looked my way, so I ducked through the doorway, blinking in the bright light of day. That it was daytime was news to me, having come from my windowless pocket of the emperor’s lair, er, abode.
The room was set with a long rustic table and two dozen plain wooden chairs, many of the seats already occupied. All of my attention was fixated on a wall of connecting doors that had been flung open. I inhaled the briny sea air, quelling the urge to throw myself from the balcony and flap my way to Tyrrik.
My feet took me in the direction of freedom regardless.
“Good morning, heir.”
Just heir? Heh? Was daughter only confined to when we were in private? Was this game for me or the others here? Either way, I hated it.
“Draedyn,” I answered shortly, not stopping on my way to the balcony.
There were others in the room. Their conversation dwindled to a stop as I passed. I spared a glance to either side, peering back at them, and inhaled subtly.
And stopped.
They were all Drae. Female Drae.
I glanced once more at the balcony. Tyrrik.
I had to try, even knowing the attempt was hopeless. If Tyrrik were close, he’d be trying to establish contact. I still wanted to jump off the balcony, but regardless of the manipulation, I now wanted to be here. With a sigh, I turned to the emperor who sat at the head of the rustic table.
“What is this?” I asked, circling my finger. Hopefully he understood that meant why am I meeting the other Drae.
Draedyn didn’t stop buttering his toast. “This is the rest of our family. Well, most of them.”
What? So these were the favorites in his harem? I narrowed my eyes at the other female Drae, staring at them suspiciously. Though they all ranged in height and posture, each of them had black hair and an athletic build. I had no idea how old they were, except they had to be over one hundred years old if they’d been rounded up when Tyrrik was placed under the blood oath.
They watched me, most with smoothed expressions, a couple with pity, one with thinly veiled mistrust. They wore similar sack-like tunics, sleeveless and undyed like mine. The one pursing her lips had a silvery scar climbing up the left side of her neck, and as soon as she caught me staring, I blushed and forced my gaze over the group, taking them in as a whole.
As I looked at them, studying them as they measured me, the oddest thing occurred. A sense of kinship swelled within me. They were family. I could feel something with each of them, a tether, a duty to protect them, a heritage that tied us together.
“Is that because they’re Drae or because you’re their alpha and I’m your spawn?” I asked, knowing Draedyn would be paying attention to my thoughts.
“Because you’re Drae,” he answered before taking a bite from his toast.
The other women and I continued staring as their rapist, my father, casually chewed on his toast. I hoped the bread stuck in his throat and killed him.
His growl rumbled through the room, and many of the women blanched or cowered.
I smiled, taking morose pleasure in his irritation. The horrors he’d inflicted on these women grossly overwhelmed my fear.
“I’m Ryhl’s daughter,” I announced. My anger rising swift and hard to her defense, I continued, “You know, the one who escaped the empire with the Phaetyn’s help and evaded all attempts to find her for seventeen years?”
The shock on the women’s faces was well worth the bravado comment. Even the one with the scar raised her eyebrows.
Draedyn cleared his throat. “Seventeen years is but the blink of an eye. Draehl could have had eternity and you too. Alas, now she is dead, her effort for naught, and you are back in my possession.”
I hunched forward slightly. His words were akin to a physical blow. I managed to control my expression but not my mind. The sorrow of her death pierced my heart, and I couldn’t help but wish things were different, that I still had her.
A cruel smirk crossed Draedyn’s face as he listened to my silent lament for my mother.
But his callousness fed my anger, giving me strength. I straightened, smiling back at him. “Not all for naught, I think.”