“This isn’t about peace! It’s about claiming what is duly ours. Our gods created this world. This blessed land wasn’t divided a millennium ago. The jade and timber-rich forests should be used to honor the gods who created them. The Shenglin owe us centuries of servitude to amend for their abominations. If we conquer them, they will till our land, mine our ore, and build great strongholds like Torchev across Riaznin.”
Valko picked up a handful of pebbles and tossed them, one by one, across the far reaches of the pond. “I see the day, Sonya, that Riaznin’s strength will multiply until it is enough to forge the Bayac Mountains and defeat Estengarde, as well. I understand now.” He whirled to face me, his eyes bright and alive. “This is why my bloodline brought me to the throne. This is why I was born first. Can you imagine the great honor it will bring the gods to see the world as one empire kneeling at their altars? With one emperor to usher in all that glory?”
Bile infested my stomach. It scraped up my throat. Lines of Tosya’s poetry kept coming at me and trampled Valko’s vision with one far more beautiful. “What if the gods see all of us as brothers?” Brothers didn’t seek glory through inequality, by rising up in the world off the backs of slaves. I knew well enough what life offered when you didn’t have a choice. “What if the gods wished for each of us to choose our own path?” Like the Romska who were content to live without religion, or Yuliya, whose devoutness to Feya brought her solace, or even the Shenglin, who worshipped not the seven gods of Riaznin but one all-powerful creator.
“Yes, yes, exactly!” Valko pulled me to my feet. “One family under the same gods.”
I shook my head. “How can there be lesser or greater within a family?”
“There must be, or else chaos would reign. The wiser must govern, and the infants must be carried and shown the way—the right way.”
And who were the infants in this structure of his? The Shenglin? The Estens? The peasant Riaznians, no doubt. What about me? “Is that what I am to you? An infant?”
Valko’s confusion swept through my aura. I could almost hear him thinking, Why doesn’t she understand? “You are my sovereign Auraseer. I depend on you.”
“As a master depends on a serf to reap the harvest,” I quipped.
His brow furrowed. “Does it matter? We will eat the fruit together.”
“But you will profit from the excess.” The emperor had claimed to need me, but I would never stand on equal footing with him.
He regarded me a moment. “I think I know why you are angry.” He threw his last pebble in the pond. “I can’t marry you, Sonya.”
My eyes flew wide. “I wasn’t speaking of marriage.” As if I had any wish to mingle my common bloodline with his.
“You’ve made it clear you have no desire to be my mistress.”
I clamped my mouth shut at that. He was right.
“I’m afraid I can’t raise your status here any higher than that.”
I suppressed an eye roll. Of course he thought becoming his illegitimate lover would be greater than my current occupation.
“We care for each other, however . . . don’t we?” he asked.
In truth, I wasn’t sure how much care bled through his infatuation. In the same regard, how many of my feelings for him were my own and not an echo of his—or my concern for the people of the empire not a reflection of his passion for expanding it? As he waited for some kind of answer, I replied, “Yes.” I did care for the broken child in him, the child who had never asked to be emperor.
“It’s enough for me that you are my balm, my seer, as you said.” He kissed my hand, and his aura blazed to life again. “Dear Sonya.” He softly grinned. “You’ve already done so much for me. You were right. You showed me who I am, and look what is happening. Look what I see!” He spread his hands wide to show the expanse of the pond, as if it represented the world—his world, his all-encompassing empire.
He began pacing again. He threw more rocks and prattled on and on, faster and faster. He spoke of what we could do with the riches of Shengli, how we could lower the age of the draft to increase our armies, how we could build greater navies, greater strongholds. His manic nature made my skin crawl as if I were covered with a thousand insects.
He’s becoming a monster. And he thanks me for it.
I kept my lips sealed together. I dared not say more because he didn’t listen. Everything I spoke he twisted, until it fit his corrupt vision of glory.
And so I sat and bided my time. I didn’t pretend to share so much as a spark of his enthusiasm, for I had none. It wouldn’t have mattered if I did. Valko was so caught up in himself and his ramblings of a greater empire that he no longer sought out my encouragement—or whatever his reason was for desiring my company today. He hadn’t even apologized for hurting me the night of the ball.
I didn’t realize until now that I’d clung to a small shred of hope he might be sorry, that he might revert back to the charming boy whose touch had so often made my blood quicken.
I would never waste my hope on him again.
I knocked on the midnight-blue door that night. Anton opened it. “Your brother is mad,” I said.
He nodded, his eyes lowering to the volume of Tosya’s poetry in my arms. “Did you finish the book?”