Page 116 of A Reign of Embers

I wouldn’t blame him if he’sstillupset, only mastering the emotion better now. This is why I hesitated to tell him my full plans in the first place.

If he decides he’s not satisfied with my explanation after all… what is he going to do about it?

The memory comes back to me of his awed expression when he confirmed Coraya was all right after he shielded her in the garden, of all the affection that’s shone in his eyes when he’s gazed at me so many times before.

He gave me his throne, gave up his entire identity, to stand by me. I’m not giving up all sense of caution, but I won’t let doubts cloud my mind either.

Neven is already waiting by the sitting room, talking with Captain Evando next to the doorway. The captain bobs his head to me, his brow furrowing as he looks me over. “Your Imperial Highness, are you faring all right since this morning’s incident?”

I hold up my arm. “Just a scrape and a minor fracture that were healed quickly enough by the medics. But I’ll have to hold off on sparring sessions for a short while.”

“Healing well is more important than a bit of training.”

His gaze slides to Neven, and the softer expression I’ve noticed before crosses his face. His tone lightens. “That doesn’t meanyoushould shirk your own training, Your Highness.”

Neven’s eyes light up in turn. He cocks his head. “If you’re so keen to lose your sword, I’ll spar with you as soon as this meeting is over.”

Evando looks nothing but delighted at the prospect. “We’ll see who loses their grip first.”

As they toss more banter between them, a pang forms around my heart. Will there ever be a timeIcan be so openly friendly, even flirtatious, with the princes I’ve fallen for?

It isn’t any of those princes who appears next, but Axius, hustling toward us all stormy grimness.

My pulse stutters. “What’s wrong?”

He jerks to a halt close enough that only my guards and Ican hear his low, strained voice. “You need to come to the mirror now.”

“Have the Gorician royals called on us early?”

“No.” His face somehow turns even solemner. “It’s Tribune Valerisse.”

My heart outright lurches. “What?”

“Come. We have to see what she’s got to say, and she won’t speak to me.”

Chapter Forty-Two

Aurelia

My thudding pulse chases my footsteps through the halls. I gesture for Marc to follow me all the way into the mirror room along with Axius.

I’m not facing the woman who’s determined to crush me alone.

The air in the hidden room off the imperial office tastes even staler than usual. It fills my lungs with a weight I can’t shake off.

I step in front of the mirror slowly, with my head held high. Tribune Valerisse’s image shows on the gleaming surface. Her dark eyes narrow at the sight of me.

She stands with a strict military posture, her lean frame emanating the athletic strength I’ve seen from her in motion. The tightness of her thrice-braided hair looks equally strict, securing every chestnut-brown strand away from her coppery face. She’s still wearing a high officer’s uniform, her gray-and-black jacket and trousers perfectly smooth and unblemished.

There are no ambitions of imperial purple on her… yet.

“Aurelia,” she says in her brusque voice, as if we’re equals—or as if I’m below her, from her disdainful tone. “Good. I wanted to give you one final chance to step down with a little grace before I knock you off that throne.”

I stare right back at her, summoning all the calm I can. “That won’t be happening—either part of it.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” She flicks her fingers toward the mirror. “Did you really think I wouldn’t hear about your plotting with the minor royals? I’ve confiscated all of these blessed relics. The only one who’ll be communicating with you through them is me.”

My gut hollows out. My one clear connection to the royal families is lost. My offering to Jurnus has been ruined.

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