Page 76 of The Golden Rose Of Valenul

Azriel shook his head to avoid eye contact. “He hates me. You know that.”

“I’ve been assigned to Ariadne exclusively.”

A chasm opened in Azriel’s gut. He stared at a distant spot, unable to think or breathe clearly. “What?”

“The Princeps has ordered me to look after her,” Madan explained. “You aren’t allowed near her anymore. I’m to stand guard outside her room, even.”

“Ridiculous,” Azriel scoffed. “Do they think I’d sneak into her room and whisk her away into the night?”

As if he were as devious as the dhemon who’d done just that. His stomach twisted at the thought.

“You’re to watch Emillie. It’s your last chance or Loren will—”

“I did nothing wrong.” Azriel swallowed hard. “Nothing.”

“He’ll kill you, Az.” Madan shoved his face into Azriel’s line of sight. “Do you hear me? Kill.”

“I’d like to see him try.” Darkness crept in from the sides of Azriel’s vision. A rhythmic pounding took its place in his head.

“He’s the General of Valenul,” Madan hissed. “So even if we got the upper hand, you could never—never—come back.”

Shaking his head, Azriel grit his teeth. We. At least Madan had not completely abandoned him. So many took one look at him and saw a dangerous criminal after that lashing. Madan remained the peaceful, pragmatic guard, beloved by all. They didn’t know it was he who’d ensure no one ever found Loren’s body when they were finished with it.

But killing Loren remained a hopeful dream. Azriel lowered his gaze and rubbed his eyes hard. When his fists dropped, the darkness eased and that horrible sensation in his mind faded.

“Is everything alright?” Madan asked, voice softer as he laid a hand on Azriel’s shoulder.

“Fine.” Azriel sighed. “You’re right.”

“At last.” Madan chuckled. “You’re finally seeing the truth.”

Azriel scoffed. “Shut the fuck up.”

“For far too long, you’ve ignored my wisdom.”

“Well, then,” Azriel said with a shake of his head, “you’ll be pleased to know I’ve put in for a transfer.”

Madan frowned, his face paling. “What?”

“You won’t need me here much longer anyway.” Azriel pulled away and leaned his back against the wall. His throat tightened, strangling the words. The bond writhed at the very thought of leaving her behind. Even his heart ached at the promise of being separated from Madan again. “She’ll be married off, and you can handle Emillie on her own.”

“You won’t need a transfer,” Madan said and pulled a folded letter from his pocket. “Caldwell’s Will is being delivered to the Council the night after tomorrow.”

Azriel whipped his gaze up to Madan, his eyes wide. He opened and closed his mouth several times, sorting through his numb thoughts, before shaking his head and returning his stare to his shoes. It’d still be too late. “I don’t want it.”

“You did before.”

“If I accept,” Azriel whispered, “I’ll never be free of her. She’ll haunt me forever.”

Madan stepped closer. “You don’t have a choice.”

“I’ll abdicate.” He couldn’t bear to take the position. Not now, not ever.

“To who?”

“You.” Azriel lifted his eyes to him again. “You’re a better leader than I could ever be.”

Madan frowned. “You know you’re wrong.”

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