Page 114 of A Reign of Embers

She lifts her shoulder in a slight shrug. “I’ve had my godlen. The princes, once we found our way to each other. And sometimes your advice has been welcome as well.”

“I’ve been grateful for every time you’ve listened.” I grope for the right phrasing. “I suppose you aren’t sorry for giving away my empire.”

A wry glint comes into her eyes. “I believe it’s my and Coraya’s empire at the moment. But no, I’m not sorry about it. It’ll be for the best. We don’t deserve so much of what we’re still demanding from those kingdoms.”

She squeezes my hand. “I’ll promise you this. If after tenyears the separation has gone badly instead, I’ll lead the charge to take them all back.”

The promise is equally wry, but I know she means it all the same. The firmness of her grasp travels up my arm in a pulse of warmth to squeeze around my heart.

I don’t know whether this is right. I don’t know just how wrong or not I’ve been. But I’ve never been more sure of how much I love this woman.

May that love prove my salvation and not my undoing.

Chapter Forty-One

Aurelia

The gardener sits sullen-faced in a corner of his dim cell. He looks at the stone floor, but it’s obvious he’s speaking to Axius rather than me. “I didn’t plan anything against her. I just saw the knife there and thought I should use it. For Dariu’s own good.”

Where I’m standing outside the bars next to the high commander, I resist the urge to hug myself, as much as the defensive stance would comfort me. “Why do you think throwing a knife at me would be for Dariu’s own good?”

The man’s lips stay sealed.

Axius clears his throat. “Answer your empress. You owe her that much.”

“I owe her nothing. She’s only empress because she married Marclinus. That doesn’t mean much.”

I completed all the same trials—andmore, I want to shout at him.I’ve helped the people of the empire while he tormented them. Doesn’tthatmean something?

But I know getting angry isn’t likely to encourage more answers.

I drag the dank air into my lungs and keep my voice carefully calm. “I’m not sure why it’d mean I deserve to die. I’m doing my best to look after Dariu while my daughter—Marclinus’s heir—grows up.”

Again, the gardener ignores me. His theoretical co-conspirators have behaved the same way. Even the page who called for me to see the roses—who denies that she had any idea of the trap set in the path—and the man we believe let the hounds loose—who claims they were already out when he saw them—haven’t been able to meet my eyes. The best answers they’ve given me have been shrugs and shakes of their heads.

Axius steps closer, right up to the bars. “If you were pushed into this course of action by another party, your punishment will be much more lenient. We don’t wish to see you take the fall for someone else’s evil intent.”

The gardener turns toward the wall. “It was all me. We just happened to do something at the same time. We saw a chance and took it.”

As if there’sanychance that the hollow under the cracked tile appeared of its own accord, that there happened to be a knife in a nearby flowerbed and a slab of roof breaking free and a tree branch on the verge of snapping all in the same small area at the same time.

It doesn’t matter if we believe his story, though. If we can’t convince him to elaborate on who else might be part of the conspiracy, we get nowhere.

Axius looks as if he’s squashed a sigh. He motions for me and the guards clustered behind us to head to the stairs out of the palace’s small prison area.

I don’t speak to him until we’re out of hearing range from the cells. “What do you make of it? Could it have been Sabrelle’s influence, more coordinated than before, even though none of them are dedicated to her?”

Axius frowns. “That seems unlikely. From what Prince Neven has reported of the dreams she sends and the reports and behavior we’ve had from other dissidents, her calls to action have never been anywhere near that detailed in their planning. She’s stirred up a general sense of dissention, nudged people toward violence. But to lay out so many specifics, especially when their minds shouldn’t be particularly open to her…”

That’s how I saw the situation myself, but my stomach knots at his matching assessment. “Then there’s apersonin the palace who did the coordinating. I suppose if we could determine who they’ve all talked to recently, that might lead us to the culprit.”

“I already have guards making inquiries. Unfortunately, I’m not sure how easy that thread will be to follow. As staff, they regularly talk to other staff, supervisors, and even members of the court in the course of their duties. And they often carry out their work in areas of the palace where no one is keeping close watch. It’d be fairly easy to arrange a small conspiracy of servants unnoticed.”

I swallow thickly. “Then we also need to speak with anyone on staff who’d have at least a little authority over those five whoisdedicated to Sabrelle. Even without proof, their guilt might give them away.”

Although I don’t have a tremendous amount of hope for that possibility. Sabrelle has given no indication that she’s conflicted about her campaign against me, so why would her supporters be?

As if to confirm my thought, a flicker of red courses along the wall up the stairs next to us. I get a glimpse of afilmy glowing stag charging forward before it fades into the late-afternoon daylight streaming from a window above.

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