As the man prepared to hobble forward, I also readied myself. I dug into Valko’s aura and felt his restlessness where it made my knees bounce, his trapped energy as it sped my heartbeat. I struggled to empathize with the emperor. He had spent so much time designing his grand plans for Riaznin. This reception must seem so minuscule in comparison to his larger, more important campaigns.
As I had on the night of the ball, I tried to open myself up to Valko, to connect on a level of pure understanding. Only then could I twist his feelings and encourage his regard for the old peasant man—who was now approaching. But the link between the emperor and me only half flickered, like a flame on a candlewick too short to sustain it.
The problem was my false empathy.
I cringed with the old man’s pain as he winced with each advancing step. Who would help him if I couldn’t?
Behind him, a commotion rose up as someone shoved his way to the front of the line. The people stumbled aside to reveal a brawny, ginger-haired man, his beard worn in two braids and studded with painted beads. A wave of revulsion flooded me, made no easier when the man’s abrasive aura scraped mine.
Valko observed my strained expression. “Are you all right?”
I shook my head. “That is the bounty hunter who brought me to the convent. His name is Bartek.”
“Ah.” The emperor’s gaze searched my face. “So your parents did not report you to the empire of their own accord?”
I lengthened my neck, taking some measure of pride in their decision, even though it cost them their lives. “They did not.”
A pulse of anger shot through me and made my muscles contract. Valko must have finally pieced together something he hadn’t fully realized until now: unlike so many Auraseers at the convent, it was never my desire to be owned by the empire, or to end up here by his side.
His fingers curled around the armrests of his throne. With a stiff set to his jaw, he turned his attention to the bounty hunter, whom the peasants were bottlenecking back. “Let him forward,” Valko commanded.
The crowd fell away, all but the elderly man, whom the bounty hunter knocked aside with his shoulder. The man buckled to his knees, and his crutch skidded across the parquet floor. A peasant woman came forward to assist him and shot livid glances at Bartek.
“Your Imperial Majesty.” The bounty hunter bent at his paunchy waist. When he rose, our eyes met. A flash of recognition curved his lip. “I have come seeking a reward.”
Misgiving spooled around my lungs. Had he found another Auraseer? If so, why would he bring her here and not the convent?
“Who is it you have captured?” Valko asked. “By all appearances, you are alone.”
“I have come regarding the treasonous revolutionary.”
Tosya? My lungs compressed tighter. My pinched-off air spotted my vision.
“Which revolutionary do you speak of?” Valko’s anger sent fire through my veins. “Many such fools have a price on their heads.”
Bartek jutted out his chin and adjusted the traveling bag slung around his shoulder. “Yuri Sergeev.”
I blinked. Tosya was safe. But—“Yuri is wanted?” My voice faltered. “I thought . . .” Had Yuri used his recruitment errand as an opportunity to conduct business for Anton? “What has he done?” I asked.
Valko regarded me. “Do you know that unfortunate soldier?”
I nodded in a daze. “He has been my escort on many occasions.” When the emperor’s brow arched, I felt the depth of my precarious position. As sovereign Auraseer, it was my job to detect any kind of threat or danger to the emperor, and I’d just admitted that I’d been with—on more than one occasion—a man wanted for treason. “I swear to you, My Lord, I never felt anything suspicious about him.”
That wasn’t true. I’d found out Yuri was in league with Anton before the prince ever admitted to it. Then there was the snaking darkness I’d sensed the night of the ball. Could that have belonged to Yuri? Anton said some of his men were growing impatient for Valko’s reign to end. “What has he done?” I asked again, and hoped the question would deflect my failure to act in this matter.
Valko cast a bored look at Bartek, who stood on the balls of his booted feet, ready for permission to address the emperor once more. “We have first accounts of Yuri working with the wanted traitor, Tosya Pashkov,” Valko answered.
I swallowed and scanned the room again. Where was Anton? Would he come to defend Yuri?
The emperor sighed. In it, I felt his tedium at having to reprimand one of his soldiers, just as tiresome as helping the woman with her well. The only silver lining was that the emperor didn’t seem to appreciate how real and far-reaching this revolution was growing. Nevertheless, my heart ached for Pia. There was only one punishment in Riaznin for treason—death. She would lose the man she loved.
“Bring forth the soldier,” Valko said. “You will have your reward.”
Behind Bartek’s oily grin, I felt his twinge of discomfort. “Yes . . . about that. Yuri is still at large.”
Valko’s brow furrowed. “You said this bounty regarded him.”