Page 57 of A Reign of Embers

Raul covers his frustration with typical bravado. “We’ll talk it all through tonight, then. Better not leave your guards wondering if we’re disrespecting our empress with protests.”

I step out of the room first, with a gesture to Axius to indicate the matter is settled. He and I will need to talk further as well, but the current conversation has left me wrung out.

I set off for my chambers with my guards at my heels. In the imperial wing, the wetnurse is waiting near my door, rocking Coraya in her arms.

She smiles at me. “I thought you might like some time with the little empress-to-be before you turn in for the night.”

The sight of my daughter’s wide eyes loosens a portion of the tension inside me. I reach out to take her and tuck her head right under my chin.

“I’ll pass on word when I’m ready for her to go back to her room,” I say.

Inside my chambers, I walk straight to the vast bed and sit down in the middle of it, still cuddling Coraya close. I nuzzle her downy hair, absorbing the sweet infant scent that reminds me of just how much I have to fight for.

The panel in the wall whispers open. I glance over to see Bastien emerging.

The prince of Cotea takes in my pose and our daughter and climbs onto the bed without a word. He slips one arm around my waist. When he caresses Coraya’s cheek, she offers him a flicker of a smile and a gentle coo.

“We’ll get through this too,” Bastien says quietly, as if to both of us. “There hasn’t been one challenge yet that we couldn’t overcome.”

Yes. We will survive. I have to believe that.

But I’ll be enduring a broken heart for weeks while we do the overcoming.

Chapter Twenty-One

Marc

Inever thought I’d see my lowered position as a benefit. Yet it is convenient that I can gather with my foster brothers while I’m temporarily relieved of guard duty without anyone wondering where I’ve gone or why.

I tap on the map that’s formed on the huge round table in the meeting room. Thankfully, its enchantment is keyed to respond to anyone’s gestures, not only the royal family’s. Blasted palace deciding I don’t count anymore.

Although I don’t count to anyone else either. If our current conflict has taught me anything, it’s that imperial authority is determined much more by other people’s opinions of whether you should wield it than divine right or anything else I once believed in.

I motion Prince Neven closer. “You’ll want to avoid the main road into Goric. Valerisse will almost certainly havesentries posted keeping an eye on things there. I’d stick to one of these smaller throughways”—I sketch my fingers across a couple of the lines that’ve come into clearer focus—“and then once you pass this town, veer right into the forests here. The riding will be harder, but you’re unlikely to bump into any hostile soldiers.”

The Gorician prince nods, his mouth pressed in a tight line. He holds his body as if he’s avoiding getting any closer to me than he needs to while following my guidance.

It’s clear none of the princes are happy that I’m leading this meeting. To be fair, I can’t say I’m all that happy about it either. I only volunteered because there are a few imperial secrets even Axius doesn’t know.

I indicate a spot near the base of the mountains just east of Goric’s capital city. “Approach Andov cautiously and get a sense of what Darium military activity is happening there. If you don’t feel it’s wise to head straight in, there’s a shelter a couple of hours’ ride away that’s stockpiled with food and additional equipment. Be as patient as you need to be. We won’t get anywhere if you’re caught before you can even talk to your parents.”

“I know that,” Neven says brusquely. “I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

At the other side of the table, Prince Raul swipes his hands together in a dismissive gesture. “Our imperial foster brother is just covering his ass pretending to be helpful. He’s actually hoping we’ll all get rounded up and gutted so there’s no chance we’ll come back.”

I shoot a glower at him. “It shouldn’t be hard for you to believe that I want this mission to succeed. I’m better off with Aurelia on the throne than whatever new emperor Valerisse thinks she’s going to stick there.”

Prince Bastien gives me one of his narrow looks, as if he’s trying to evaluate how to most efficiently gutme. “And youaren’t at all hoping she might be persuaded to stickyouthere?”

I can’t stop myself from rolling my eyes. “The court that spent most of their days around me doesn’t recognize me. I hardly think she’ll believe who I actually am. And?—”

I cut myself off at the lance of pain that slices through my gut.

And even if I won that extreme gamble, I’d lose Aurelia. I’d have to label her a traitor and see her executed.

No. The palace’s magic has refused me. The entire country has already mourned ‘my’ death. I can’t see any way that making a play for the throne in my current state would end in anything but an even worse tragedy.

Nonetheless, the memories of the blank gazes that travel over me as if I barely exist, perhaps only pausing with a wince of disgust at my marred face, send the sense of loss jabbing deeper. You’d think these pricks could appreciate how much I’ve already given up.

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