“Silas Veliant stole my sister from me,” her aunt said. “But he unwittingly gave me an heir who will carry on my legacy. Who will ensure that he and all his brood will pay for their crimes. Who will never put down her weapon in our Endless War.” Her eyes bored into Zarrah’s. “You will give me my vengeance, won’t you, Zarrah? You will be my weapon against him, and all those that come after him?”
Zarrah swallowed hard but nodded. “Yes, Your Imperial Majesty. On my honor, vengeance will be yours.”
27
KERIS
Three nights in a row, midnight had come and gone without Valcotta making an appearance.
The first night she hadn’t shown, he’d been terrified something had happened to her. That by leaving her alone on the roof as he had, he’d unwittingly condemned her to a dark fate. Or that she’d been identified as having been with him during the roundup and was being punished. He’d debated going to the Valcottan side of Nerastis to search for her before abandoning the notion. In the city itself, it would be a needle in a haystack, and he was not fool enough to go lurking about the garrison in the hopes of finding her.
Those initial fears had diminished when he’d rooted through reports from their spies the following day, none of which mentioned the death or punishment of a senior Valcottan officer. What they did mention was that Empress Petra herself was back in Nerastis. Her presence provided a probable explanation for Valcotta’s absence on the second night, for some duties could not be set aside. Yet by the third night, with the Empress once again departed south, Keris began to question if Valcotta’s absence was by choice.
If, for whatever reason, she no longer wanted to see him.
Which of course meant that his head was consumed with endless theories of what her reason might be. That she’d discovered his identity. Or he’d offended her in some manner. Or she’d gotten what she’d wanted from him.
Or what he’d revealed to her about himself wasn’t to her liking.
“What did you think?” he muttered as he walked through Nerastis, having left Aileena eating candy and counting her coins in her room. “She’s a soldier, and now she knows you’re a scholar who carries books around in his pocket.”
It would have been one thing if it had been about a serious topic, but of course, it had been one about stars and silly folktales. Something to be read to children. He kicked a loose cobble, watching it spin off into the shadows, cursing himself for allowing her to see a part of himself that he normally kept hidden. For letting down the wall of sarcasm and indifference that years of mockery and contempt had forced him to build so high.
“This is the last night. If she isn’t there, I’ll know.”
In truth, it was the last night he could risk it. Aileena had warned him that the hours he was supposedly spending in her company were raising eyebrows, her mistress going so far as to suggest he intended her for a formal mistress. And to be seen as holding that much of his favor would put the courtesan at risk.
Raina’s sightless eyes flickered across his vision, and Keris squeezed his own shut for a heartbeat, sucking in deep breaths to control the twist of guilt in his stomach. It was better if Valcotta didn’t come. Better if she stayed away from him.
And yet as he finally made it to the dam, he couldn’t curb the swell of anticipation. The hope that he’d find her standing on the far side of the spillway.
Wasted hope, because as he rounded the curve of the dam, it was to find the edges of the spillway had crumbled on the Valcottan side, widening the gap to an impossible jump. Beyond, there was nothing but shadows.
28
ZARRAH
You must strive for perfection. Her aunt’s parting words echoed through her ears. To be above reproach so that no one will question your fitness to rule.
For nearly four days, Zarrah had done just that. Up at dawn to complete her exercises, then to spar with Yrina, redeeming herself on the training ground, at least, before her aunt departed the city. She ran the garrison through endless drills, showing her soldiers no mercy, just as she showed herself no mercy as she sat at her desk for hours, combing through reports, eating while she worked, stopping only when the palace clocks struck the midnight hour.
For at that point, it would be too late.
Too late to venture out to the dam to see if he waited on the far side of the spillway. Too late to risk the temptation of his presence. Too late to question whether the path she walked was the one she wished her feet to remain upon.
Which was good, because in the darkest hours, it felt like her willpower crumbled. Felt like all the fantasies that daylight and duty had kept at bay gathered so as to overwhelm her the moment she was alone in her rooms. They drove her to pull his coat from where it was hidden deep in her wardrobe, the scent of him still clinging to the butter-soft leather. Compelled her to burn her lamp for hours past when she should be asleep, reading and rereading the book of stars and stories, the memory of his voice echoing through her head.
And now it was the fourth night since she’d slept in his arms on a Nerastis rooftop, the clock showing that it was nearly the midnight hour, and she knew if she went back to her rooms, it would be more of the same. “Enough, Zar,” she hissed at herself. “You are acting like a lovesick girl, not a soldier. And certainly not like a general or heir to the throne.”
She needed to put an end to this, once and for all.
Rising to her feet, Zarrah stormed through the corridors, wrenching open the doors to her quarters. In three strides, she was across the room with her wardrobe open, coat and book in hand.
“Burn them.” She stared at the objects in her hand. “Be done with this. Move on.”
But the thought turned her hands to ice and hollowed out her core. “Why?” she demanded softly. “They are just things. And not even particularly valuable things.”
Which was true, but the thoughts and emotions they inspired were valuable. Too valuable for her to cast aside or destroy.
Give them back, then.
Zarrah chewed on the insides of her cheeks. There was little chance he’d be at the dam, for not only had nights passed since they’d planned to meet, but it would also be past midnight when she arrived. She could leave the coat and the book weighted down with a few rocks, and he’d either eventually come to find them or… not. Either way, there was a finality to leaving them.
Decision made, Zarrah turned her thoughts to how she might see it done. There was no chance the Empress hadn’t left orders that she—and her windows and doors—be watched, which meant she was going to need help getting out.
Tucking book and coat under her arm, Zarrah left her rooms, making her way down the hall to Yrina’s much more modest quarters, where she knocked at the door. Cursing and swearing emanated through the wood, but then the door opened to reveal her sleep-rumpled friend. At the sight of her, Yrina straightened, eyes sharpening. “What’s wrong. Has something happened?”
“No, nothing.” Easing into the room, Zarrah went to the window and looked out. “I need a favor.”
“Can I do whatever it is in the morning?” Yrina’s eyes went to the leather coat rolled under her arm. “Ah.”