Page 153 of A Reign of Embers

I interrupt her before she can launch into a longer criticism. “You can’t offer the empire the joy of play and making art or the kind of creativity that can transform people’s understanding. You can’t offer my people thewisdom of history and philosophy to recognize what a healthy society needs. You can’t offer them a willing ear to listen or the means to connect and collaborate across all the borders from north to south.”

A flush creeps over Valerisse’s face. “None of that matters,” she snaps. “We’ll sort out the rest once we see a true ruler on the throne.”

Unruffled, I continue. “A true ruler would be thinking about how the empire’s citizens will find abundance of all sorts, not how to shed their blood. A true ruler would wish to raise our people up rather than tearing down what others would build for them.”

Marc continues banging on one side of the barrier while Raul is throwing his shoulder against the other side. The rest of my guards are pummeling the invisible shell around me as well. A tremor wobbles through the air.

From the tightening of Valerisse’s jaw, I think she can feel it too. She’s running out of time.

Because even trapped in here, I’m not alone. I have so many people on my side.

I’ll be the empress they deserve.

Her lips pull back as if in a snarl. “I’ll raise the empire up properly, on conquest and victory. You haven’t built anything.”

I have to hold back a snort at the thought of the very literal palaces I’m having constructed in Vivencia while we speak. “I offer them love that can cross status and borders. I offer them the cleverness to see through any battle by their own terms, no matter how great their opponent.”

“Why are you talking as if you’ve defeated me? I could run you through right now.”

I gaze back at her, softening my voice. “No, you couldn’t. Because I’m bringing peace, and my godlen and I won’t let anyone shatter it. Nothing you say or do can touchme. And everyone, even your own soldiers, is seeing that right now.”

A harsher tremor ripples through the air. Sparks flicker where my protectors are striking the barrier, as if it’s on the verge of disintegrating.

Valerisse lets out a wordless growl of frustration and hurls herself at me.

The sunlight flares off her blade and her helm. I step back instinctively. My gaze falls across her armor.

I don’t know whether it’s simply a natural keenness of sight, a lingering effect of merging my gift with Marc’s magic, or some touch of divine magic. Whatever the case, my attention catches on a shift in the armored plates over Valerisse’s chest.

There’s a small spot just beneath her breast where one slat has broken away in the fighting. It must have been bashed by a spear point or a swipe of a sword. All that lies beneath is a scrap of fabric.

My arm moves as if of its own accord, through weeks of practice and a sense of certainty I can’t totally explain. I whip my sword into position to meet the tribune’s rush, not striking out, just bracing for impact.

Valerisse is hurtling forward too swiftly to adjust course even if it’d occur to her that she should. She slams straight into my weapon, and the blade pierces through that tiny opening and into her flesh.

The impact shoves me farther backward. The blade slices through sinew and muscle to clink into the plates of steel against her back. Blood spurts over me.

And Valerisse’s sword keeps swinging at my neck.

The last part I can only attribute to Evando’s training and Lorenzo’s insistence that we focus on defensive skills. I twist to the side and roll away from the tribune’s toppling body and her vicious strike.

The blade glances off my upper arm, only carving the thinnest of stinging lines in my skin. I hit the ground shoulder first and roll further.

Valerisse slumps over against the grass, her body already limp as the life blood pulses out of her.

The magical barrier surrounding us cracks. Marc rushes in to wrench me farther away, the princes at his heels.

I hug him tight just for a moment, my lips brushing his cheek, and then ease away.

All the soldiers have paused in their fighting, watching the confrontation just as Valerisse wanted it. Before their eyes, I flip her body onto its back with my foot and yank the Sabrelle-blessed sword from her chest.

Staring down at her slack corpse and the blood-drenched ground beneath her, picturing all the other bodies strewn across the hillside and field, a sudden rush of anger crackles through my veins.

I point my sword to the sky, blood dripping down its blade, and shout to the heavens. “Sabrelle, I’ve conquered your champion. I fought my way, and I won. If you still deny me my rightful place, then it’syouwho’ve betrayed me.”

I will not cower. I will not beg. She can accept me or not, but I will remain.

It wouldn’t surprise me if the clouds still streaking across the sky rumbled with her disapproval. But after a few strained breaths, all that comes is a beam of scarlet shining down on me from above, glowing over me as if the godlen is aiming a spotlight at me.

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