Page 113 of A Reign of Embers

As I straighten up and show Coraya’s unharmed form to Aurelia, one of my fellow guards calls for a medic. The others grab the worker who was poised by the roof and the one who hurled the knife.

“There were others!” I call out. “The page who beckoned Her Imperial Highness this way—and there was a man who ran off, I think to loose the hounds.”

A whole conspiracy of staff against our empress. Would any of them have been dedicated to Sabrelle?

How does this latest attack make sense?

“Thank you,” Aurelia says quietly. She takes Coraya from me with her unwounded arm and murmurs to her daughter while the medic sets the broken bone she’s impressively ignoring.

Her gaze falls on Kassun, whom another medic has just bent down beside, and her stance tenses. “Is he badly injured? What happened?”

“I’m fine,” Kassun mutters, but the blood caking his hair where the chunk of roof banged his skull says otherwise. He sways where he’s kneeling.

The medic sets a steadying hand on his shoulder and hovers her hand over his head. “We got to him quickly enough. The damage can be mended.”

Aurelia’s face stays pale. “Go with them to the infirmary, Kassun. You’ll need rest to properly recover.”

More concerned about her guard than her own injuries. Just like our empress.

Axius comes up beside me with a clap of my shoulder, more familiar than he’d ever have allowed himself when I wore imperial purple. “There’ll be more challenges ahead, butif you keep acting that swiftly, the empire has nothing to worry about.”

I hold back a rough chuckle. As his words sink in, they don’t feel quite as absurd after all.

I’ve seen what my wife is capable of. Out of the options I have, it is possible that seeing her remain on the throne is the best thing I could do for the empire.

Over Aurelia’s protests, the medic insists that she should retire to her apartment for some rest herself. “The first few hours after the healing are the most important. Your arm will give you a little pain for a week or two, but more if you don’t take plenty of time to recuperate from the start.”

And so, less than a day after our last argument here, I find myself back in Aurelia’s bedroom.

She frowns at the fabric sling the medic gave her to remind her not to strain the healing limb. I can’t help remembering the morning she came to me with her shoulder dislocated, trusting me to mend what my twin had broken.

“That’s your sword arm,” I find myself saying. “You won’t be able to train with the soldiers for a few days at least.”

Her frown deepens. “It is what it is. Better my arm broken than my head. Or Coraya.” Her gaze returns to me. “I know you’re still upset. But you helped us—you helped her—without hesitation.”

There’s only one way I know how to answer that statement. “She’s my daughter too.”

She is, and she will be, in the ways that matter most.

A trace of a smile softens Aurelia’s expression. She motions me over to her, farther from the door, and takes my hand in hers. “Iamsorry I kept something so important from you. It’s been a long journey to determining where I stand with you, how much we can rely on each other. I haven’t always been certain of my way.”

My throat tightens. “It has.” Mainly because of my and my family’s behavior, not hers. “I can understand that.”

I wish she’d trusted me more… but I can’t say I have a right to be insulted that she didn’t.

Her thumb strokes over my knuckles, sending shivers over my skin. She looks down at our hands and then meets my eyes again. “I’m sorry about your father too, you know.”

The statement knocks the words from my mouth for a few beats of my heart, it’s so unexpected.

“You don’t regret killing him,” I say, with no doubt about that fact.

“No. But I regret that it was necessary to reach my goals. And I regret that losing him hurt you. It was hard for you—I could see that. You’ve had to navigate a lot of things alone that you expected to have more guidance for.”

That sentiment is just like her, isn’t it? She notices every impact her actions make, even when I’d done nothing to deserve her concern back then. Nothing she does is without compassion or consideration.

Even Sabrelle couldn’t honestly claim otherwise, as many bloody visions as the godlen might send into people’s heads.

My voice turns even rougher. “You haven’t had any guidance at all.”

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