“No . . . I can’t . . .” His jaw ticked. He wouldn’t meet my gaze, but his voice came tenderly. “I can’t risk losing you, too.”
Disappointment flooded me, but I didn’t argue. My place was here at the emperor’s side, my duty to both the empire and my pact to the revolution. “I’ll return to him,” I promised, knowing it had to be done. “I’ll try to persuade him to free Tosya.” At least I’d have a fighting chance. Tosya, unlike Pia, was alive—for the time being.
“Please be careful,” Anton said.
“And you, as well.”
He finally locked gazes with me. In his eyes, I saw everything that had transpired between us last night. In his aura, I felt the ghost of our last kiss. I longed to kiss him again, to find some means to bring him comfort, to let him know all would turn out right, even if I didn’t believe it myself.
I leaned forward on my toes, but he anticipated me. “I must go.” The door shut between us. I blinked, staring at the swirl of painted stars.
A vase of blue hyacinths lay waiting on the table in my antechamber. Beside them was a small, varnished box. A ribbon wrapped around it, tied together with embossment wax and the emperor’s royal seal—a V beneath a crown with seven rubies. I broke it and lifted the lid. Inside, on a bed of velvet, was a large sapphire surrounded by diamonds. It hung from a golden chain. The cut of the sapphire was marquise—oval with pointed ends. The facets winked at me in the sunlight from my window.
I closed the box and pushed it to the far end of the table. Did Valko think I could be bought? That a gem could replace a dear friend? The scent of the hyacinths burned my nostrils. I paced away. My hands flexed. My anger brimmed. The necklace was worth enough to feed a family for a year. It could repair Ruta’s boardinghouse and give the Romska children more time to play in the fields rather than beg for copper coins in the cities.
I dropped down on a chair at my writing table and tried to wash away my disgust. There would be no giving away Valko’s gift. I’d have to accept it if I wanted to restore myself to good terms with him. As insufferable as that was, it was nothing next to becoming one with his aura, persuading him to release Tosya, and, while he was at it, give over his throne.
I scrubbed at my eyes. Fatigue turned my bones to lead, but I gritted my teeth. I wouldn’t give in to desperation and self-pity. My task might be monumental, but my gift—my curse—was the only means I had of making a difference in this world.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
THE DAY PASSED WITH MADDENING SLOWNESS. MY NEW serving maid showed up before Lenka did. She seemed kind and able enough, but my chest felt hollow, my body cold, as I compared her to Pia. Her freckled skin to Pia’s golden olive. Her thin frame where Pia was voluptuous. Her lack of a ready smile. She left with a curtsy, and I picked at the supper tray she’d brought, but found everything tasteless. Lenka arrived shortly afterward. She must have been informed of my magical reappearance.
I didn’t answer her inquiries about where I’d been last night. After my refusal, we didn’t mince words. I instructed her to make me presentable to the emperor, and she performed the task with signature skill and dressed me in a pale-silver gown.
I learned the emperor was in a long meeting with his councilors. I would have spent the day with them if he’d known I’d returned.
I descended a twirling staircase and made my way to the council chamber. The sapphire burned like ice against my throat where the necklace encircled it like a collar. I wasn’t eager to see the emperor’s gratified expression when he saw me wearing it.
As I reached the second level, I halted and clenched the banister as panic gripped my aura. At the same moment, Anton entered the palace through the grand lobby below. He looked up. His chest expanded when he saw me, but his anxiety still had me on edge. Servants milled about him and attended to their chores. He tipped his head to the left, a subtle motion, but I understood.
His dusk-blue cape flapped behind him as he strode down the corridor toward the great hall. Composing myself, I descended another flight of stairs and caught his trail. I tried to keep my pace casual while also moving fast enough so I wouldn’t lose sight of his broad shoulders. Anton paused up ahead to remove his gloves and cast his gaze about for any onlookers. A moment later, he slipped in through the doors of the ballroom.
My heart pounded faster. Anton’s dread roiled in my gut. I quickened my step, and with a glance over my shoulder, I entered after him and shut the doors. “Did you meet with your men?” I asked. “What has happened? Your aura is making me ill.” I pressed a hand to my nauseated stomach.