I forced myself to stay hidden until I felt no trace of Valko’s aura. Then I fled out of the ballroom, down the main corridor, across the amber lobby, up the twirling flight of stairs, and into my chambers. Shoving my box bed aside, I raced through the red door, the lavender door, and crumpled on the dusty planks of the nursery room.
I sobbed and shook and screamed until my throat burned dry. The painted eyes of the rocking horse and nesting dolls watched me with disinterest. I picked up the largest doll and prepared to hurl it across the room, when a rush of frenzied curiosity urged me to be silent.
I listened. Moments later, I heard the muted sounds of a door burst open, furniture knock about, and thuds hit the floor. The emperor’s guards must be raiding Anton’s chambers, only two rooms away.
My heart pounded as I clutched my hair at the scalp. How much longer could I hide? How was this serving anyone I still cared about? Because I hadn’t acted fast enough, Pia had died. When I went to plead for her life, Valko had already executed her. Now Anton and Tosya were next.
From the moment I had agreed to take part in this revolution, I knew I would have to confront Valko and use my ability to persuade him. I had hoped when the time came I’d be courageous, like the plaintively beautiful Armless Maiden. She looked down at me from the flaking mural of Riaznian fairy tales. Pia had finally read her entire story; it took her seven long nights to stumble through the words.
As I imagined my friend’s sweet voice again, I recalled my favorite part of the tale. In her moment of trial, the maiden wasn’t brave, she was terrified. Her baby had fallen into a well, and to save him she needed to reach inside. Having no arms below the elbows, she despaired, knowing the task was impossible. But when an old man asked her to use fortitude and faith, she did. She stopped seeing herself as the victim of her past and started believing in a future where she was whole again. Her arms grew back until her hands were restored and she was able to reach her son.
My situation was just as dire. I couldn’t have dreamed of worse circumstances in which to try to bend the emperor’s emotions—not when I was wanted for arrest, Anton and Tosya were imprisoned, and the people were coming to storm the palace.
I shook my head and rocked back and forth. There was too much pressure, too many ways my attempts could go wrong. Too many people who would die if I failed.
I looked up to the Armless Maiden. Her face was heart-shaped like Pia’s.
Try, Sonya.
Reach.
I remembered the lovely depths of my friend’s eyes, the sun in her aura.
I had to do this for her.
Still trembling, I rose to my feet and wiped the tears from my eyes. I brushed the nursery room’s dust from my dress and walked through the evergreen door, the midnight-blue door, and when I met the surprised looks of the guards in Anton’s chamber, I said with as much strength as I could muster, “I believe the emperor is looking for me.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
AS THE GUARDS USHERED ME INTO VALKO’S CHAMBERS—THEIR grip tight as vises, despite my willingness to come—my gaze riveted to the emperor across the room. He stood in the open doorway of his balcony. Sheer curtains wisped around him. The breeze played through his hair and made him appear gentle and handsome. Adding to the effect were his bare feet jutting out from the base of his trousers and his loose, untucked shirt. He leaned against the doorframe, his gaze lost on the city. Something in his aura was also lost, also forsaken.
The largest guard shoved me in the back and prodded me forward. I blinked as pain smarted between my shoulder blades. It was enough to return my focus to the task at hand.
I studied the emperor with new eyes, and my muscles tightened and locked around my bones. A wave of revulsion swept the length of me. I had no desire to sense Valko’s sorrow or grant him pity. He had killed Pia and arrested Tosya and Anton. He was callous. Heartless. I wouldn’t believe he could be anything more than cruel.
But of course that’s exactly what I needed to feel—that it was possible he was genuinely suffering and miserable, and that he had reason to be. Only then could I find any point of connection with him. I needed pure empathy to use my gift to persuade him to abdicate. Without that grafting branch of compassion, I had no hope of overpowering him.
“We have brought the sovereign Auraseer, Your Imperial Majesty,” the largest guard announced, and prostrated in a bow without easing his grip on my arm. His pride transferred through the sleeve of my dress and my skin, but I pushed it away. Pride was not an emotion that would help me.
Upon hearing his guard’s declaration, Valko’s gaze snapped around. His eyes brightened with longing, as if he couldn’t believe I stood before him. My heartbeat quickened and relief surged through my breast. I frowned with astonishment. Was it possible he still cared for me?
The warmth in his eyes only lasted a moment before it rapidly hardened to ice. My shoulders fell, and fear stole through my chest. His affection for me must be shattered, and I’d been counting on it to use against him.