Alaric waited for the legionnaire to leave, then pressed a black-gloved hand against Talasyn’s shoulder in a fleeting, feather-soft touch. “You’ll be all right?” he inquired.
She almost bit through her tongue to stop from begging—no,ordering—him not to leave her alone in this chamber of wolves, but it wasn’t as though she would ever take precedence over Gaheris in Alaric’s head. And perhaps his departure was a blessing in disguise: without him breathing down her neck, perhaps she could set in motion her plan to extract information.
“I’ll be fine,” she told him. “Of course you must go to your father when he asks for you.”
A slight flush rose to the top of Alaric’s cheeks. She had once called him his father’s dog, and she herself was uncertain as to whether her latest implication of such was accidental or not. Maybe she was lashing out to feel a little bit less helpless, maybe he deserved it, and maybe she stared after him a little too long when he got up and walked away.
Even though Gaheris’s private hall was only a handful of buildings away—a ten-minute stroll, at most—it might as well have been a world away from the gala. Everything in thehall was silent, dimly lit. The caged sariman slept on its perch, in bars of moonlight, its golden-plumed head tucked beneath one iridescent wing missing several feathers.
There were no shadows this evening. Gaheris usually filled his hall with magic, to muffle the highly sensitive conversations that took place within, but even he needed time to recover after aethermancing an entire stormship into dust.
Alaric sank to one knee before the dagger-shaped throne, waiting for judgment.
“You know what this means, don’t you?” Gaheris’s voice was painfully raspy through heaves of threadbare breaths. Alaric’s heart ached to see his father so gravely weakened—because ofhim. His failure. “Either Ideth Vela is alive somewhere on the Continent, or someone else has stepped up. We have a full-blown insurgency on our hands.”
“Yes, Father,” said Alaric.
“I’m curious,” drawled Gaheris. “What would you have done if I hadn’t been there today?”
Alaric swallowed. “It was unusually cloudy, and the rebels used it to cover their approach. A tactic that will work only once, because we will be more vigilant in the future—”
“There would have been no future if not for me. You werestaggeringlyincompetent.” Gaheris sat a little straighter, as though his rage gave him new strength to tap into. “You were so incompetent that the Lightweaver had to save your skin, after your magic faltered instead of cutting down an enemy. This is in addition to all your shortcomings in dealing with the whole Nenavar mess. What is thematterwith you lately?”
“I apologize.” Alaric’s response was automatic. The field of combat had been thick with legionnaires, and there was no use wondering which of them had reported to his father. It could have been anyone aside from Sevraim, Ileis, and Nisene—and he wasn’t even certain about the twins.
What are you, then?Talasyn’s jeering tone rose from the depths of his memory.Emperor in name alone?
But whoever reported it clearly hadn’t noticed that Talasyn was the one who’d stayed Alaric’s hand, for Gaheris made no mention of such a thing.
This was where rebellions began. In the little cracks that people slipped through.
The thought snaked up from a shuttered corner in Alaric’s mind, perilous yet somehow oddly tempting. As though he could give in to it and then his failures would matter a little less.
“And now our people’s view of the Lightweaver has softened,” Gaheris muttered. “The worst possible outcome from this crisis.”
“She killed several of her former comrades today,” Alaric pointed out. “They threatened her and her family. And she chose my life over that rebel’s—”
“That is nothing to be proud of. If aLightweaverhad to come to your rescue, you should have just died.”
It hurt, of course. Like a knife from out of nowhere, slipped between the ribs. But Alaric persisted. “Be that as it may, doesn’t this prove that the Lachis’ka’s allegiance is no longer with the Allfold? Perhaps she is truly willing to work with Kesath.”
“Perhaps,” Gaheris begrudgingly conceded.
“So—there might be no need to continue the experiments with the sariman—”
Alaric knew that he’d made a mistake as soon as the words left his lips. The Regent’s eyes darkened, then flashed silver.
The shadows rose.
It shouldn’t have been possible. Not after all the magic that Gaheris had expended earlier that day.
But wrath was a powerful fuel.
“How quickly my son forgets the lessons of the past,” the Regent growled. “You would have Kesath work with the same magic that once sought to destroy it. You would place your faith in the same breed of aethermancer that killed your grandfather. Rather than striking first, you would leave our realm vulnerable to the whims of the Dragon Queen.”
Alaric hung his head.
“You weren’t ready, after all. It’s a shame. What the Night Empire could become with a capable ruler …” Gaheris trailed off, features twisting in disgust.