15
CORVAN
I rub my forehead and frown, trying to make sense of the numbers and graphs and diagrams on my desk. I’ve arranged them in meticulous order as is my habit, by geographical location rather than name.
Over the past year, my surveyors have collected an impressive amount of data. Even in the midst of winter, they hunker down in their underground base beneath the mountains, slowly making sense of the hidden depths.
Preliminary signs point to the presence of large mineral deposits at the exploration site.
High-grade Ruvenium. Extremely rare and valuable Luthenia.
And serpenstone. Coveted by sorcerers and witches alike.
I scan the documents, my attention briefly caught by a paragraph detailing the presence of thick Luthenia veins in igneous rock.
It’s the kind of information that would make my father’s eyes glitter with avarice.
Few things can excite my old man these days.
The promise of riches is one of them.
But my concentration shatters as a pair of familiar voices reaches my ears.
It’s Kaithar and the girl. My most trusted war-commander and Finley Solisar, my apparent bride-to-be. They’re down in the square, walking.
I’ve been told she’s sharp-eyed and restless; curious, quick-witted, and not afraid to speak her mind.
And she isn’t the type to sequester herself in her room, despite the fact that I ordered the servants to make it warm and luxurious.
No. She wanted to walk. In the biting cold of morning.
Accustomed to the comforts of their opulent palaces in the sunny midlands, most ladies of the nobility would show little interest in the frozen surroundings.
Even from here, I can smell her. Her blood-scent is the sweetest, purest, most tempting thing I have ever smelled in my entire cursed life.
The hunger hits me like a punch between the eyes.
The world swirls around me. My vision blurs.
Need. Her.
I grip the edge of the desk, steadying myself.
Three days.
That’s as long as I can go, apparently, after drinking her blood.
Three days without the terrible thirst.
And then it all falls apart.
It was presumptuous of me to hope that her glorious blood might be some sort of cure-all for my condition. That the feeling of satiety might be a permanent one.
No; life is never that simple.
I’m craving her blood again, terribly, and she’s down there in the square, walking around with bloody Kaithar.
And even though I’ve been preoccupied with my work, I can’t help but listen, can I?
As they speak.
As Kaithar tells her things about me. That I’m a good person, despite my failings. And he knows I can hear him.
My commander… my old friend. He’s doing this on purpose, because he doesn’t agree with me on certain things, which he’s made very clear. An exasperated puff escapes my lips as I try and put a leash on my temper before it turns foul.
We’ve had this conversation before, more than once.
Kaithar’s one of those rare souls who’s never afraid to speak his mind around me.
“This avoidance business is pointless, Corvan. She’s here now. Doesn’t seem like she wants to be, either. You might as well just talk to her.”
“I have my reasons.”
“Well, you need to snap out of them, Your Highness. Because the way I see things, the Rahavan Empire is turning to shit in a handbasket, and recluse or not, you’re one of the few people that can keep it from going to the dogs.”
“Hell.”
“What?”
“It’s hell. Hell in a handbasket, Kaith.”
“Shit, hell, same difference. You and your insistence on detail. You see? That’s why they need you. Not bloody Ansar the Rake.”
“My brother is competent enough. He trained at the Knights’ Academy. He’s received the highest level of military and diplomatic education.”
“So what? Education doesn’t equal intelligence or decency. He’s not you.”
“You’re deviating from the point, Kaithar.”
“No I’m not. See, who sent her here in the first place? Why now, of all times? Don’t you want to know what Daddy Duthriss is scheming?”
“Not really. And he’d flay you alive if you called him that to his face.”
“Yeah, well your old man never could take a joke. And you know he doesn’t do anything without an agenda.”
I didn’t want to tell Kaithar that father and I are more alike than I care to admit. I know him better than anyone else in the empire, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that Valdon Duthriss is always plotting the endgame.
Whatever it is, I will not be used in his machinations.
Never again.
If the North and its people are to survive and prosper, I need to consolidate my power here.
Father is getting old, and sooner or later, my brother will inherit the throne. Ansar must learn to fear me more than he already does, because one day, he will be emperor.
By the time he realizes how prosperous Tyron truly is, he will also understand that these lands are well and truly out of his clutches.
I need to play this game as cunningly as my father would.
There’s only one problem.
Oh, Hecoa damn-it.
“Finley.” Another man speaks. The newcomer. His voice drops to a whisper, but with my enhanced hearing, I can still make out the words clearly. “Why aren’t you inside the castle? What are you doing out here with a Vikurian? And dressed like that. Stupid girl. Didn’t you listen to a single thing I told you?”
“Father…”
My left eyebrow twitches in annoyance. It appears Finley’s father has arrived. This Baron Solisar. I heard him as he arrived at the gates; pompous, arrogant, demanding to see me at once.
How did this man manage to gain an audience with my father? The Emperor of Rahava doesn’t pay much heed to minor nobles.
Surely Kaithar can handle this situation.
Finley’s voice wraps around my awareness, threading through my hunger like finely woven silk. She’s trying to convince Kaithar to allow her to speak with the baron first.
After all, she’s his daughter.
She can be quite the persuasive one, it seems. Even with a hardened soldier like Kaithar.
“Father, listen to me, please.”
But now she’s pleading, and I don’t like the desperation in her voice.
“Quiet.” He’s still whispering. “Go back to your chambers and dress in something more appropriate. Quickly, before I lose patience. It’s because of you that I had to come all the way out here. Because you manipulated my sons into coming after you. From now on, you will shut the hell up and do whatever Archduke Duthriss demands of you.”
My brows draw together in irritation. This idiot dares to presume what I want? He dares to speak to her in that manner?
Arranged or not, she’s my betrothed.
“Watch your tone,” Kaithar growls menacingly.
“Kaithar, please. Don’t. Let me handle this. Father, just listen.” Now there’s steel in her voice. “It’s about Rick.”