“She visited Valcotta?”
“Oh yes, many, many times. Delia was not one to be confined, and your father chased her up and down both continents trying to keep her safe. I was bested only once in Pyrinat’s games, and imagine my shock to learn that the victor was an Ithicanian princess.” Her aunt smirked and rubbed a faded scar across the bridge of her nose—one of many she possessed. “She was fierce.”
Aren’s voice was strangled as he said, “Yes.”
“Is it true your father died trying to save her life?”
He nodded.
Her aunt’s face fell, and she pressed her hand to her heart, but Zarrah’s instincts jangled, warning her the sentiment was feigned. “I will grieve her loss, and his, until the end of my days.”
Aren seemed to believe her genuine, for he said, “If you knew my mother so well, then you had to have known her dream for Ithicana and its people.”
“Freedom? Yes, she told me.” Her aunt shook her head. “But I agreed with your father in that it wasn’t possible. Ithicana’s survival was always dependent on it being impenetrable, or at least, nearly so. To unleash thousands of people who knew all of Ithicana’s secrets would see them secret no longer.” Her gaze hardened. “And worse still to allow others a view from the inside. But then, you learned that lesson, didn’t you?”
Aren gave the slightest nod of acknowledgement, likely thinking of the wife he’d left downstairs.
“And yet not only do you allow Silas Veliant’s weapon to live, you keep her close. Why is that?”
“She’s not his weapon. Not anymore.” Aren was on the defense. Which was exactly how the Empress wanted him. “She broke me free of Vencia, and after that, I needed her to survive the trek across the Red Desert.”
“It could be another ruse, you know. Ithicana has not yet fallen—a fact that sorely grieves Silas. How better to take Eranahl than to deliver into it the woman who cracked the defenses of the bridge?”
She was seeding doubt in his mind, but to what end, Zarrah wasn’t certain. Then her aunt added, “It would be nothing for us to rid you of that particular problem. She could disappear,” and Zarrah saw to the heart of her strategy. She was going to predicate her assistance on terms she knew Aren would never agree to.
And as predicted, the king went still. “No.”
“Your people will never accept her as queen. She’s the traitor who cost them their homes and the lives of their loved ones.”
“I am aware. The answer is still no.”
Silence.
“And if I say that Valcotta’s support is contingent on her death?”
“No.”
The Empress shoved away her glass, rising to her feet in a flurry of motion, feigning anger even though she was getting her way. “Even now you put Maridrina first.”
Aren rose as well. “I put the chance of peace before old grievances. Which is something you might consider.”
The Empress whirled back around, eyes flashing with true anger. “Peace with Maridrina? Son of my friend or not, in this you go too far. On my life, I’ll not lay down my staff until Silas Veliant lays down his sword, and we both know that will never happen.”
“It won’t,” Aren agreed. “But Silas won’t rule forever. And neither will you.”
A flicker of fury rose in her aunt’s eyes, but she smiled as Aren pressed a hand to his heart, saying, “It was an honor to meet the friend of my mother, but now I must take my leave. Tonight, I sail to Ithicana.”
He departed, but Zarrah remained, waiting for her aunt to speak.
“He’s wrong, you know,” the Empress finally said. “My will and rule will continue after I’m gone—through you, my dearest. The Valcottan Empire will grow and expand in its power; and united in mind and desire, you and I will destroy our enemies.”
Except we are not united, Zarrah thought. You will sacrifice honor and decency to have your way. Will allow a nation to be crushed, families torn from their homes and children orphaned—like I was—by violence, all for the sake of achieving power and revenge.
But she bit her tongue, because in order to stop her aunt, Zarrah needed her to believe she was complicit. So Zarrah inclined her head. “I understand your will, Imperial Majesty.” But I will have no part in seeing it done.
“They need to be on a ship north now.” Her aunt stared into the space between them, too caught up in her own thoughts and schemes to notice what Zarrah had not said. “The Magpie’s spies will know they are here, and it won’t be long until an attempt is made on their lives. Posting guards around their accommodations will imply I’m protecting them, which won’t do, whereas if they are escorted onto a ship and dumped across the border, my stance on Ithicana is clear.” She snapped her fingers, and a guard stepped into view. “Arrange an escort for the rulers of Ithicana. I want them at the harbor within the hour.”
When he departed, the Empress turned back to Zarrah. “The sooner Aren stirs the conflict with Maridrina over the bridge, the sooner we can attack. Which is why you need to return to Nerastis. We’ve three Maridrinian vessels that we’ve captured, and I want you to fill them with soldiers and sail north on the heels of Aren and his woman. Mark my words, the moment his people have him back, Ithicana will rise up, and Silas will be forced to commit his reserves.”
“And when he does?”
The Empress’s eyes gleamed. “Then you will enact our revenge, dear one. You will sail your ships into the Vencia harbor and attack. Will burn the city, tear down the palace, and make sure every last man, woman, and child bearing the Veliant name is put to sword.”
Sickening horror filled Zarrah’s stomach, but she nodded, watching as her aunt moved to her desk, writing on a sheet of paper. “Give this to Bermin. Silas will pull soldiers from Nerastis soon, if he has not done so already. Once they are gone, Bermin is to take the northern half of the city. His orders are the same: ensure every Veliant in the city is put to death, with special care given to the crown prince.” She lifted her head to meet Zarrah’s gaze. “Keris Veliant will suffer for what he did to you, dear one. My son will make sure of that.”
Ice ran through Zarrah’s veins, and it felt as though she was seeing her aunt for the first time. Finally seeing her for the villain that she was. Yet what made Zarrah want to vomit was that she also still saw the woman who’d rescued her. Who’d cared for her. Who’d brought her back from the edge and made her strong. And seeing her flaws, Zarrah still loved her. “I understand.”
“You are to share our intentions for Vencia with no one, General,” her aunt said. “Your excuse for sailing north is reconnaissance and the protection of Valcottan merchant vessels, and you’ll reveal the true plans to your soldiers and crew only at the final hour. The Magpie has spies everywhere, and we cannot risk word of our intentions reaching Silas in Vencia.”