This is what it’s like to rule.
The thought weighed on her mind, making her understand why her aunt kept the world at arm’s length. How could one do anything else when one was constantly forced to put the good of the Empire over the good of the individual? That was the choice her aunt had made in refusing to negotiate with Maridrina to get Zarrah back. And while she was increasingly wary of her aunt’s vision of Valcotta’s future, there was no doubt in Zarrah’s mind that she’d acted for what she perceived was the good of the Empire.
Would it be possible to change her aunt’s view of the future? Would Zarrah still have influence with the Empress after this debacle? Unease flitted through her chest as she envisioned walking into the palace in Pyrinat and explaining, as much as she dared, how her capture had transpired. Explaining how she’d forgone an opportunity to escape on the way to Vencia in favor of the chance to assassinate Silas, only to forgo both her chances to do so. First to protect Keris and then because she’d come to understand that murdering the King of Maridrina would be like dumping oil on the fires of hatred between the two nations. Explaining how she’d then escaped by making a bargain with Ithicana, another nation the Empress was at odds with, all with the help of the son of her mortal enemy.
“Fuck,” she whispered, because the truth was damning.
The door latch clicked.
Zarrah’s heart leapt as the door opened, and she steadied her breathing, listening for the familiar tread of Keris’s feet.
“He’s distracted. Search the room, top to bottom, but make sure you put everything back as it was.”
Serin.
“What are we looking for?” a man asked. Then he muttered, “This room is a mess. Don’t the servants ever come in here?”
“Search for anything that ties him to Ithicana,” Serin answered. “Or to Valcotta. And be quick about it.” The door shut.
Zarrah clenched her teeth, listening to boots thud and scrape over stone as the man moved through the room. Papers rustled and objects shifted as he searched through Keris’s things, muttering about the disarray as he went. Then boots came closer, stopping just in front of the tiny hole she was peering through.
“Who locks up books?” the man grumbled, and Zarrah flexed her fingers, the knife hilt slick with her sweat. Go away, she silently willed him even as she knew a locked box would draw his interest.
Metal scraped against metal, the man cursing under his breath as he fumbled with his picks. But there was no mistaking the click as the tumblers released.
He is only Serin’s stooge, she told herself as she listened to him pull out books, shaking them to check for loose pages. You are a general of the Valcottan army. You have been fighting since you were a child. You can defeat this man.
Except then what? She was still trapped in Silas Veliant’s inner sanctum, which was swarming with soldiers.
Something scraped along the false bottom above her, and she prayed he didn’t notice the difference in depth. Prayed that Keris would come back. Prayed that a servant would walk in and interrupt their search.
Yet even as she prayed, Zarrah planned her attack, because there was only one person she could count on to save her ass: Herself.
“Who needs so many blasted books?” The chest shifted slightly, and the man grumbled, “My God, this thing is heavy. And he takes it with him everywhere he goes. Wait…”
Silence fell, and Zarrah took a measured breath. Then another. Because this was the silence of a man who’d discovered something. Of a man who suspected he might not be alone.
Practiced hands brushed along the sides of the chest, searching.
Click.
Light blossomed above her.
And Zarrah attacked.
66
KERIS
Every member of the Veliant family knew about the hole, but given his propensity for pissing off his father in his youth, Keris knew it better than most.
He made his way to the staircase that led to the cellars beneath the harem’s building, his stomach tightening at the sight of the guards standing by the heavy door. “Open it. Now.”
One of them used a key attached to his belt to unlock the door, swinging it open, but as Keris passed, taking their lamp as he did, the man said, “The King has ordered she not be removed. Not under any circumstance.”
Keris didn’t bother answering, only kicked the door shut behind him, the damp scent of earth filling his nose even as darkness closed in around him. Turning up the lamp, he called out, “Coralyn? Auntie?”
No answer.
Heart in his throat, he moved down the stone corridor, bypassing the wine cellar and storerooms, heading to the door at the very end. As his hand pressed against the wood, Keris hesitated. What if she was dead? What if those men had been told to guard her corpse?
His breathing came in too-fast pants, his hands clammy as he prepared himself for the worst. The hinges creaked as he pushed, holding the lamp ahead of him as he swallowed hard. “Auntie?”
Silence.
“I suppose it was too much to hope that you’d leave well enough alone.”
Relief shuddered through him, sending the shadows from the lamp dancing across the mildewed walls. Keeping his voice low, Keris said, “You told me that Lara swore to kill him or die trying. So which is it, Auntie? Is my sister a liar? Or are you?”
“You know the answer.”
She’d lied to him.
Hurt lanced through his chest because other than Valcotta, she was the only other person living whom he trusted.
“I’d never have agreed to this plan if I’d known you intended to take the blame.” Not even the opportunity to save Valcotta was worth the death of his aunt. He’d have found another way. A way that protected everyone he cared about.
“I’m aware, Keris. There’s a reason I didn’t tell you the truth.”
Moving toward the dark opening in the earth, Keris looked down. About six feet in diameter and eight feet deep, the hole smelled of wet earth and decay, the light from the lamp only faintly illuminating his aunt’s face. Her cheek was bruised and her lip split, but knowing her as he did, she was likely more aggrieved that her gown was soiled by dirt. “How badly are you hurt?”
“Your father got in a few blows, but I’ve weathered plenty of that over the years from him.” She gave an annoyed sigh. “Since there isn’t a chance of you leaving without some form of chatter, go fetch me two bottles of wine.”
“Wine?”
“Yes. Be sure to pick something expensive. If I’m going to die in this hole, I might as well cost Silas money while waiting for him to do the deed.”
Keris had no intention of letting her die, but he also knew arguing would be futile. So Keris hurried back down the corridor, stopping in front of the well-stocked cellar. Picking out two bottles that he knew she favored, he all but sprinted back to the hole, closing the door behind him.
Setting the lamp next to the edge of the hole, he said, “Make me enough room that I can jump down.”