Amara’s heartbeat quickened. “I can! I’ve seen the error of my ways, that my grandmother has been far too instrumental in the darkest of my decisions. I don’t place the blame fully on her, of course. I chose to do what I did . . . just as my father would have selectively listened to his advisors.” She winced at the thought that she’d turned out to be exactly like the man she’d hated all her life. “But I can change, I can be better. And now that I’ve discovered that my grandmother has been manipulating me for her own gain, she will no longer be such a strong influence on me.”
Felix raised his one visible eyebrow. “You honestly believe every piece of that soggy horse dung coming out of your mouth, don’t you?”
He spoke with such disrespect that she got the overwhelming urge to scream so that her guards would arrive and have him arrested.
Then Amara reminded herself, yet again, how much Felix had endured because of her. Most men wouldn’t still be standing, let alone breathing.
He was strong. And she needed that strength today of all days.
“It’s not horse dung,” she said firmly. “It’s the truth.”
Felix looked at Nerissa, shaking his head. “I can’t listen to this for much longer.”
Amara realized Nerissa’s attention hadn’t shifted from her for a moment. Her former attendant studied her carefully, her dark eyes narrowed, her slim arms crossed over her chest.
“There’s no time for debate,” Nerissa finally said. “Felix and I will go search for local rebels, and I pray that we find enough who are willing to help.”
Felix finally sheathed his blade, but his expression hadn’t softened even a fraction. “If we find them, I know they’ll help. Mikah was a great leader.” He frowned. “Is a great leader. Nothing has changed there.”
“I’ll go with you,” Amara said, wanting to assist in any way she could.
“No,” Nerissa replied. “You will stay here and get ready for your Ascension. Act as if everything is normal.”
Frustration coursed through Amara, and she awkwardly pushed herself up from the soft chaise and back up to her feet. “But everything is not normal—far from it!”
“All the more reason for you to pretend that it is. We do not want to raise the suspicions of your grandmother more than they already are. If that happens, she won’t let anyone within sight of either Mikah or Lyssa. And Mikah will die, executed in a dark room with no one to help him.”
Amara wanted to argue more, but she saw the wisdom in Nerissa’s words. Finally, she nodded. “Very well. Please return as soon as you possibly can.”
“We will.” Nerissa moved toward the door without further hesitation.
Felix backed away from Amara slowly, as if he expected her to plunge a dagger into his back the moment he turned away.
“If you’re lying yet again,” he said before he left the room, “you will regret it very, very much. You hear me?”
And then they were gone, and Amara was alone, wondering if she’d made the correct decision. Then again, any other decision would have resulted in her bleeding on the floor right now, gasping for her last breath.
This had been the right thing to do.
Still, it felt as unnatural and awkward as trying to walk on a broken leg.
Amara tried her best to go about the rest of her day as originally planned. She meditated, bathed, and then took a midday meal of fruit and light pastries, which she barely touched.
She had a final fitting for a new leg brace that would allow her to walk from now on unassisted by a cane. It was better, but she still couldn’t hide her limp.
Then she waited as long as she could before allowing an attendant to paint her face, lining her eyes heavily in black coal, brushing her lips with a dye that would make them appear as red as rubies.
Another attendant styled her long black hair, creating an intricate maze of braids.
Finally, they helped Amara into her Ascension gown with Lorenzo supervising, pride for his magnificent piece of artistry shining in his eyes.
“You are as beautiful as a goddess today, your majesty,” he said as the heavy wings were placed onto her shoulders.
Amara looked into the mirror at her heavily made-up eyes, the color of her irises the exact same pale gray-blue as Ashur’s were.
She’d wanted what Lorenzo said for so long. To be a goddess. To have ultimate power at any cost—any cost at all.
And a part of her still wanted that. Still wanted that shiny, exquisite bauble that now lay just out of her reach.
I can have both, she silently told her golden reflection. I can have power and make the right decisions. Today is the first day of my new life.
After she left Lorenzo, she shrugged off any cloying guard who wanted to escort her to the ceremony hall.
“I know the way,” she told them. “And I wish only for silence and solitude to help collect my thoughts.”
They didn’t question her. The guards bowed, let her pass, and didn’t follow.
Of course they obey me, she thought. They knew they would be harshly punished if they didn’t.
Fear was a powerful weapon, forged over time and by example.
Generations of fear for the punishments issued by the Cortas family line had created total and complete obedience.
Could people be ruled without fear to keep them in check? Was it even possible?
She didn’t know for certain, and that question troubled her deeply.
Amara took the long way to the hall where, by now, every Kraeshian who had received a personal invitation to the event of the century would be lining the large, ornate room where her father and mother had been married. Where her three brothers—but not their “lesser” sister—had been officially presented to important friends of the emperor after their births.
Where her mother had been displayed after her death, fully painted and coiffed and wearing her wedding gown, for all to see.
A thousand would fill the hall as Amara received the scepter—a symbol of power for a Kraeshian ruler since the very beginning—that bore the chiseled golden head of a phoenix. A symbol of eternal life and eternal power.
Within the scepter there was a sharp blade.
And with this blade, the ascending ruler would make a blood sacrifice to bring good fortune to her reign.
Today it would be Mikah’s blood, unless Felix and Nerissa were successful in their quest.
Amara took her time walking to the ceremony hall. She wove through the palace and passed the large windows that looked out onto her courtyard. She paused. She knew exactly what would calm her. Amara made her way out into her rock garden.
To her surprise, waiting for her on a table was a bottle of wine with two goblets, just as there had been when she’d arrived.
There was a message there, which read:
Dhosha,
I anticipate that you will visit your favorite place before joining me and the others. Please take a moment to appreciate how much you’ve accomplished, and how very much I appreciate you.
Your Madhosha
Yes. A sip of sweet wine might be exactly what she needed to calm her nerves to face what was to come. Her grandmother knew her very well indeed. She poured some of the golden liquid into one of the goblets and then raised it to her lips.
“Empress!”
She jumped at the sound of the voice.
Costas approached her, his expression grim.
“Did the queen send you to fetch me?” she said as sharply as she could. “Or did you decide to interrupt my privacy all on your own?”
“Queen Neela sent me to find you. The ceremony is ready to begin.”