I bit my lip and eased back down, unable to resist another look at Anton. As the councilors swept past him to exit the room, the prince twisted the letter and watched the emperor and me, his mouth contorting with a frown. A feeling of deep displeasure strung taut between the two brothers. Every muscle in my body cramped.
Valko rose after everyone left—everyone but Anton. He gripped the prince’s arm, ushered him out the door, shut it hard, and closed me in with him. Taking a steadying breath, the emperor rolled out a kink from his neck. Pain knotted on my own. With false calmness, he returned to me, hands clasped behind his back. “Stand up,” he said.
I did as he commanded, my knees wobbling while storm clouds brewed in my gut. Valko was furious, but for the moment he kept it at bay. Feya willing, he wouldn’t unleash it.
“How long have you been at court, Sonya?”
“Three months.”
“And how long have I been emperor? No”—he held up a finger—“how long have I been educated to rule Riaznin?”
My voice quavered. “Your whole life, My Lord.”
With a deep inhale, he nodded. “My whole life. And before I was born, Sonya, did the gods foresee my destiny as ruler? Did they bring it to pass—bring me into being—so I could wear this crown, in this very hour of need, for my empire?”
The storm clouds grew darker, more ominous. “You asked for my opinion, My Lord.”
The lightning struck. His face went crimson. A vein pulsed at his temple. “I had supposed the opinion of my Auraseer, my gifted protector, would support me!” I shrank back, fearing he would strike my face. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve planned this? And yet on a moment’s whim, you prattle off some thoughtless remark to shame me in front of my councilors!” He swept his kaftan back and placed his hands on his hips. “Do you have nothing to say?”
My body shook as I resisted the urge to hit him. I scrambled to throw up battlements against his fury before it consumed me, before I lost my own temper. He wanted an apology, but I couldn’t give him one, despite Tola, despite Dasha, despite the price of my own life. Some madness held me resolute. Deep in my bones, I knew the opinion I’d uttered was my right to give—and at his request. What I’d felt in Anton’s aura confirmed the justice of it. The emperor would not strip me of that moment when I, for once, felt important and worthy of goodness.
Valko’s shoulders rounded. The storm clouds broke apart. “Don’t you care for me at all, Sonya?”
My balled hands opened at my sides. Did I? How deep did my affection run? How much of it was my regard for him, and not his attraction to me?
How sincerely did he care for me? He was planning to be married. Still, how often had I craved another summons to his rooms—or for him to knock on my door? There must be a reason I hadn’t used the key to the secret ballet room. Was the reason my own true feelings?
Valko stared at me, hard and unyielding. Before I could answer him, he swept closer and crushed his mouth on mine. His body pressed against me with none of the patient tenderness he’d exercised for weeks.
His abrupt passion came like a battering ram against my indecision. I held my body rigid, determined to first understand what I felt for him while he kissed me more roughly, while he yanked his hands through my hair and shoved me back against the table’s sharp edge. When I released a cry of pain, the door to the council chambers burst open.
“I’m sorry to intrude, but you’ll want to read this letter immediately.”
Anton.
Releasing a breath of irritation, Valko drew away and settled his forehead against mine. He blocked my view of his brother. “Give me the news quickly,” he said without turning.
Anton spoke in monotone and betrayed none of the furious emotions trapped inside him. “The Estens received your missive,” he answered Valko.
I squirmed in vain and tried to pull out of the emperor’s arms so I could see the prince, so I could study his features to see if they matched his hostile aura. Had Anton been listening outside the door? Why was he so upset? He’d made it clear he didn’t care one whit about me.
“What’s more,” the prince continued, “the emissary is already traveling to meet you. His messenger rode ahead. The emissary will arrive in two days’ time.”
Valko exhaled with supreme satisfaction. His impassioned anger transformed into something bright, like the sun had overcome the storm outside. The fact that the rain still pattered incessantly outside the windows didn’t faze him. He kissed me again, long and deep, not minding the audience of his brother—or perhaps making a greater display because Anton was there.