Page 94 of Captive of the Stolen Empire

The wound still bled me out despite her confessions to me now. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Not by far.

With a grunt, I slammed the training sword onto the rack. “Keep at your drills. I’ll return if I can.” Wearing myself into exhaustion hadn’t helped.

A few soldiers nodded, but most remained distracted. All the better. They’d seen too few cycles, or too many. Their faces blurred as I headed for the audience chamber. Warren was right, these men and women didn’t deserve to die, as they would if the rebels attacked—which they would, soon if Zurina’s information was correct.

More war. More death.

Once I believed we could end it, but we’d only made it worse. Me. My doing. The emperor’s orders, but I’d carried them out.

My skin turned clammy as I advanced through the hallways. Warren slid into step beside me as I turned a corner.

“What is it?” he asked.

“No idea.”

He’d kept secrets from me too. And not just about the rebels.

Zurina hadn’t been an orphan. She’d thought so too for many cycles, but Reyna remembered her from youth. She told her the truth and reminded her of the past. Slowly, a little bit each day, it was as if a fog rolled back from her memories. Old memories shifted and changed until the true ones broke free.

Just like mine. Talking with Zurina about it was the final tug on the blanket over my mind. Her truth let me accept mine and see things for how they really were.

It nearly brought me to my knees.

I still recalled the cabin that haunted my memories for as long as I could remember. I still felt the fear, pain, and hunger of that time etched into my soul.

But the sorrow I’d once felt at the death of my so-called parents vanished. Now I knew them for what they were—my captors. I’d caused their deaths. My magic broke free for the very first time. Uncontrolled. Wild. In their fear they caused their own demise, leaving me tied up within the cabin—crying, starving, and begging for help. Cassius Ryszard arrived after two days. I recalled his whispers now too, the way his magic tingled under my skin and wove a new memory. It had held for cycles—until Ilya. She’d started to unwind the threads that held the spell in place as Reyna had for Zurina.

Zurina suspected that was the reason for the emperor’s recent headaches. As his magic unraveled, he struggled to maintain his creation. Without success.

If the rebels attacked, the emperor would kill Ilya—and the others. He’d make an example of them for all the city-states. We had to act before then. Find a way to get them out of his grasp.

I toyed with the pommel of my sword. If someone told the emperor of our discussion this afternoon, I’d go down fighting. Maybe I’d take him with me. End this.

Wariness and unease twisted into shock as I shoved past the guards and threw open the doors to the audience chamber. A man knelt on the ground, arms bound behind him. Blood leaked from a cut above his eye, swollen and purple.

Conversation cut off abruptly as I entered the room, Warren quick on my heels. Most of the others had already arrived, standing in a half-circle around the man on the ground and the guard holding the bindings on his wrists. Emperor Ryszard frowned behind his desk, studying a crumpled piece of paper. He didn’t spare a glance for us.

Tension slipped from my shoulders. My heart lightened.Praise The Four.He didn’t know. There was still time to finalize a plan.

“A fight?” I asked, infusing my voice with calm indifference I didn’t feel. I recognized the man—Lord Fernand Reis, one of our honored guests and Ilya’s friend, the same one who had cried out for his wife amid my illusions in the arena.

Orson spit on the ground.

“A repeat offender.” The emperor’s flat, even tone disturbed me more than any words or spew of anger he could have uttered. The purple-faced rants I’d grown used to, but this icy calm was new.

Twisting emotions simmered up my chest and threatened to choke me as I took in our emperor. He’d been a father figure once. Someone I respected—loved in a way. But he’d stolen us, stripped us away from a different life in youth, one that may not have been full of war and death. Too many thoughts chased each other through my head, just as they had this afternoon.

With effort, I blocked out my concerns, shifting into the careful role of First Captain I’d worn all these cycles.

Fernand didn’t look up as I circled him to take the paper from the emperor’s outstretched hand. The man might as well have been a statue if not for the slow drip of blood down his face.

The hint of a smirk painted the emperor’s features as I took the letter, but I ignored it. My back stiffened as I recognized the familiar script. Zurina’s writing.

And she wasn’t here.

Fear surged through my blood, burning its way into my chest.Why the fuck were you so careless as to—

The doors opened.

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