Her father cleared his throat. “We’ll capture those still claiming loyalty to Petra, but after what the Imperial Army heard, I think they’ll be few in number.” He met her gaze. “It’s over.”
She gave a tight nod, words beyond her, and with a small smile, her father tugged on Jor’s sleeve and led him after Saam. Leaving them alone.
She didn’t answer, focusing on finding handholds, her weight suspended on fingertips and toes. Her
“You are the Empress now, Valcotta,” Keris said, softly. “The Empire is yours to raise up high.”
“Just as Maridrina is yours,” she answered, wishing this felt more like victory.
He didn’t answer, and Zarrah understood why. They’d fought for this. Bled for it. Yet the greatest cost felt yet to come, as the roles they had secured would ensure they were ever kept apart. For a few moments, she didn’t want to be empress. She only wanted to be his.
Finding Keris’s lips, Zarrah kissed him again, losing herself in the heat of his mouth. Burying her fingers in his hair and relishing the feel of his hands on her body. For a few heartbeats, the world fell
“I can’t,” he gasped. “You have to let me go, Zarrah. It’s over for me, but you need to live. Promise away, and there was only the two of them. No kingdoms or empires, no crowns or armies. Only touch and breath and an endless love.
But fate, as always, saw fit to remind them that it was a star-crossed love, and the horns of war once again began to blow.
Sobs tore from Zarrah’s lips as her father dragged her onto the path, Saam and Jor doing the same to Keris. Ignoring the agony that was her body, she clambered on hands and knees, pulling him into her arms.
He was bruised and bloodied, hair tangled around his face, but the sight of him made her heart beat with renewed strength. “You came for me.” A tear rolled down her cheek, stinging the scratches. “I knew you would. Even when they said you were dead, my heart wouldn’t let go.”
Keris lifted a hand, cupping it around the side of her face that wasn’t shredded, his eyes locked on hers. “Every life I have, I will gladly spend on you.”
He lowered his lips to hers, and she sobbed between kisses, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Refusing to let him go as the others knelt next to him.
“Are you all right?” her father demanded.
Jor leveled a finger at Keris, shouting, “You’re just like your sister, you mad fool!”
“We’re fine,” Keris answered, holding her tight against his chest. “Petra is …” He jerked his chin toward the edge.
“Very dead,” Saam announced. “Although perhaps I should check again.” He started down the path.
All she should have felt was relief, but Zarrah felt sick, her heart in as much pain as her body.
Keris pressed his lips to her forehead. “Breathe.”
Zarrah drew in a gulp of air, then slowly allowed the brief pang of grief to fade away.
Her father cleared his throat. “We’ll capture those still claiming loyalty to Petra, but after what the Imperial Army heard, I think they’ll be few in number.” He met her gaze. “It’s over.”
She gave a tight nod, words beyond her, and with a small smile, her father tugged on Jor’s sleeve and led him after Saam. Leaving them alone.
“You are the Empress now, Valcotta,” Keris said, softly. “The Empire is yours to raise up high.”
“Just as Maridrina is yours,” she answered, wishing this felt more like victory.
He didn’t answer, and Zarrah understood why. They’d fought for this. Bled for it. Yet the greatest cost felt yet to come, as the roles they had secured would ensure they were ever kept apart. For a few moments, she didn’t want to be empress. She only wanted to be his.
Finding Keris’s lips, Zarrah kissed him again, losing herself in the heat of his mouth. Burying her fingers in his hair and relishing the feel of his hands on her body. For a few heartbeats, the world fell away, and there was only the two of them. No kingdoms or empires, no crowns or armies. Only touch and breath and an endless love.
But fate, as always, saw fit to remind them that it was a star-crossed love, and the horns of war once again began to blow.
“DO WE KNOW what is happening?” she asked as they reached the bottom of the path, the
river running deep and swift through the ravine. In her periphery, Zarrah could see the
Usurper’s corpse on the rocks, splattered and ruined, but she refused to look directly at
it.
“We aren’t sure,” her father answered. “No one knows where we are to bring a report. We need to rejoin the main army and march on Pyrinat, claiming it in your name.”
More fighting. For while many in the Imperial Army knew the truth about the Usurper, Pyrinat would be held by those who still saw Petra as the empress and Zarrah as the enemy.
Zarrah took a steadying breath, feeling Keris’s arm tighten around her waist, though he was mindful of her ribs. He’d had to half carry her down, for as her adrenaline had faded, the full extent of her injuries had made themselves known, pain stealing her strength.
“Aren and Sarhina have command of the army,” he said softly. “They will not move on the capital without your blessing.”
“Incoming,” Jor growled, pulling the machete strapped at his waist. “Imperial Army uniforms.”
Keris drew his sword, but as he moved to stand between her and the group of soldiers racing down the riverbank toward them, Zarrah said, “Give me a weapon.”
She wouldn’t be of much use in a fight, but neither would she hide. Saam handed her a knife, and Zarrah moved to stand at Keris’s side.
Yet as the soldiers drew near enough to recognize her, they slowed, sheathing their weapons. “My lady,” their captain said, inclining his head. “We have been searching for you. Feared the worst.” His eyes flicked to the Usurper’s corpse. “But I see you are victorious.”
“I will not claim victory until Valcotta is united and at peace,” she said. “Can you give me a report?”
“The Maridrinian and Ithicanian armies have united with the rebels,” he answered. “The Imperial Army has surrendered, although many are part of the search for you.”
Nodding, Zarrah stepped away from the group, going to stand at the water’s edge and looking up at the waterfall that poured into it. One of a thousand tributaries that fed the mighty flow of the Pyr.
“What do you want to do?” Keris asked, coming to stand next to her.
“I don’t want to march on my capital city as the enemy,” she said softly. “I don’t want my people to see me as a threat.”
He rocked on his heels, and she looked up at him, seeing the exhaustion. Pushed to his limit and beyond, in so many ways, but still standing strong. “We can send emissaries,” he finally answered.
“They can share the truth with the people, ask them to surrender peacefully to you.”
Zarrah exhaled, allowing her eyes to go back to the water even as she took hold of his hand. “If I do that, it will be the enemy’s voice telling the story, and they won’t believe it. It needs to come from the lips of those they trust. For them to surrender Pyrinat to me is an act of faith, and it requires an act of faith from me in return.”
“What is it that you have in mind?”
Keeping her grip on his hand, Zarrah turned back to the waiting soldiers. “Bring word to Aren to release the Imperial Army,” she said to Jor. Then she turned to the Valcottan soldiers. “I wish for the Imperial Army to gather and return to Pyrinat.”
Her father hissed between his teeth. “This is madness. There is every likelihood they will turn against you, and we’ll be faced with an army that won’t be easily defeated.”
“If that is the case, then we will leave.” Her grip on Keris tightened, and though her nails were likely digging into his palm, she couldn’t relax her hand. “I … I won’t rule people who don’t want me. Nor will I use fear to force them to pretend to.”
“Zarrah, they only need time to watch how you rule,” her father argued. “Expecting them to love you today is unreasonable, but with time—”
“I understand that after all your years of fighting for this, my words are hard to hear, Father. But I will not be her.”