Page 54 of A Reign of Embers

But the empire wouldn’t want them to remember there ever was a time when they ruled themselves.

Marc looks as if he’s bitten his tongue. He shakes himself. “Well, that’s fair enough, but I don’t see how that helps our empress with her current problem. Do you?”

Gazing up at the shelves, inspiration lights in my head with a tickle of exhilaration. “Actually, it might. You said there’s a few ancient volumes here, Bastien?”

He points out three more spines amid the shelves. “Those are all considered lost treasures by the Cotean royal archivists. I don’t think they even realize the empire has them.”

“Then why don’t we restore those treasures to their rightful home? I’d imagine Estera would consider the returning of knowledge to those who’d appreciate it a worthy gesture of support.”

Bastien brightens. “She should. To bring them homeafter all this time, in defiance of imperial tradition—it ought to count for something.”

His enthusiasm bolsters my own. “And perhaps that would help show your father I’m acting in good faith. Although I don’t suppose getting a few books back will be enough for him to want to send his people into war, no matter how precious those texts are…”

I glance at Marc, but he makes no protest, though his mouth is tight.

My eagerness fades on its own as more practical considerations rise up. “And we’ll have to think carefully on who could deliver them. Most Darium citizens would be uncomfortable at the thought of their empress being so generous with the outer territories. I don’t want to stir up more uneasiness about my rule than already exists.”

But we’re running out of time for thinking. I can’t be so careful that I ruin my chances to succeeding that way.

Bastien is tapping his fingers against the shelf. “I’m sure we can find a way. You—or I—can write a note using the same trick Father did to convey any other promises you’re comfortable making.”

How much good will a simple note do, though? What promises will the conquered royals believe after so long under the imperial family’s thumb?

I never had the chance to start showing my full intentions before this revolt raised its head.

What I’m comfortable with isn’t the most important consideration, is it? My comfort shouldn’t come from someone else’s misery—not Neven’s, not Pierus’s and his wife’s. It certainly shouldn’t come before the security of all the people under my rule.

Another idea slithers into my thoughts, so obvious and yet so unnerving a chill shivers through my veins.

Pierus isn’t the only one with a family who cares about him.

My stomach bottoms out, but the larger I let the idea grow, the more correct it feels. Even if speaking it makes me want to vomit.

Bastien frowns, his gaze intent on my face. “Is something the matter?”

I steady myself. “No, not at all. An answer that might solve an awful lot of our problems just occurred to me. I think… I think I need to ponder it a little more before I lay it out.”

Clutching the book on combining gifts to my chest, I hurry toward the door. If I ponder my new plan in my lover’s presence for even a second more, I might completely lose my courage to pursue it.

Chapter Twenty

Aurelia

Normally I cherish every moment I can get alone with my princes. This once, I’m glad for Axius’s presence standing across the round table from me.

The high commander peers at the four hostage royals sitting around the table and then meets my gaze. “You specifically wanted the foster princes included in this discussion, Your Imperial Highness?”

I haven’t explained my idea to him yet. I might want the shielding from their full reaction, but it felt unfair to discuss it with anyone else before they heard.

I draw myself up straighter, focusing on Axius and not my lovers’ curious stares or that of Marc standing guard just inside the door. “Yes. It’s occurred to me as perhaps it should have sooner that the princes may be the key to ensuring theroyal families of the outer territories support my rule over Valerisse’s claims.”

Bastien’s puzzled frown is visible at the edge of my vision. “Of course we’ll help however we can. We’ve no interest in seeing traitors take over the empire.”

Neven leans his elbows on the table, his eyes lit up. “I can write to my parents—make an appeal, include anything you think would make a difference.”

He’s so eager to accommodate me that the ache already gripping my heart squeezes harder. It takes me a moment to recover my voice.

I open my mouth, and the words catch in my throat. My hands ball where they’re tucked into the folds of my billowing skirt.

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