Page 54 of Between Soul and Vessel
Avriel
“You incompetent fools,” Empress Avena seethed, her voice trembling with repressed anger. She shoved her goblet into Aryx’s chest, which he swiftly took before it fell. Her discerning gaze locked on the two trembling guards kneeling before her. She was seated in her rose-colored bathing pool, a harem of scantily dressed males lounging around her, in and out of the waters—Shadow included.
He’d been the first person I saw when I walked into the empress’s bathing chamber with the two guards in tow, a few short moments ago. Like a statue, cold and unfeeling, Shadow towered behind her, his muscular arms crossed over his broad, soul crusher-derived chest. But when he saw me, there were the tiniest sparks of warmth in his onyx eyes, and it had filled my stomach with dancing butterflies.
For his sake, as well as my own, I did not dare to steal a second glance at him—something that was not easy to do,consideringallsix-foot-five-inches of him.
“You had one job,” the empress enunciated, her nostrils flaring. “You were to ensure the traitor was executed.”
One of the guards began to plead, her words bucketed from a well of desperation and dumped out before us. “Please, Your Majesty, we beg your forgiveness! There was nothing we could do! The vuleeries just showed up, and they took her—”
“Silence!” the empress roared as she jerked up out of the waters. Glistening droplets slid down her wet, naked torso, dripping back into the bathing pool. The only thing she wore was her favorite gold cuff around her wrist. Her hair was stuck to her skin, clinging on for dear life as she strode toward the stairwell. The railing groaned under her mighty grasp as she grabbed hold of it and stormed up onto the main level.
One masked male strode forward, offering her a towel, but she walked right past him, clipping a fearsome pace toward the guards. Water pooled beneath her feet as she cast the kneeling, armored females in her umbra, her expression filled with disgust. They dropped onto the polished opal floor, laying their hands out, groveling like worms before her.
Slowly, she crouched, one long fingernail reaching underneath the pleading guard’s jaw. She tipped her face upwards, forcing her to meet the empress’s scrutinizing gaze. “You will go to the Moriel Forest and demand to find out what they’ve done with my prisoner.”
“But Your Majesty, the vuleeries will tear me to shredsthe moment I step foot in the forest,” the guard sputtered. “You know this.”
“That is none of my concern,” she said with malice, stroking her finger upwards and slitting the female’s chin open. The guard winced as ichor brimmed. The empress stood and turned to me, her voice resolute. “Arrange a council meeting.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” I said, bowing.
“Oh, and Avriel dear, Victor has requested a private audience with us later tonight. Clear your schedule.”
I nodded again, stealing one small glance at Shadow, it was no more than a whisper of a look, and although it was brief, I noted that his arms had fallen to his sides. Noted the clench of his fists, the way his skin had turned white over his knuckles, as if the bone beneath might burst through.
And I didn’t know why, but that vision burned like an iron, searing itself into my thoughts. It stuck with me as I left the room, as I arranged the council meeting. It stuck with me until the sun dipped its weary head and bowed to dusk. It stuck with me until I found myself in the empress’s private dining room.
A long candlelit table stretched on and on, all but three of the surrounding chairs empty. The empress took up her imposing throne-like chair at the very end. Directly across from me was the male who always sent my fingers into a tizzy, itching to grab hold of the rabbit’s foot—
Victor.
While the empress remained lost in her private thoughts, her attention cauterized to the innards of hergoblet, which she swirled around and around, Victor watched me. His smarmy eyes swam all over my body like a pair of unwanted hands, peeling back the layers of my clothing and exposing my naked flesh.
I hated every second of it, but just as the countless other women who had become the dreaded epitome of his obsession had done before me, I endured.
My mother had been one of those women.
I could still hear her stifled cries as she wept into her pillow when she’d come back to our room late at night, trying not to wake me. Those sounds had only become louder with time, haunting me. They had been like a calling, begging me to take action, begging for retribution. There’d been a time when I had plotted to end Victor’s life in order to put my mother’s spirit to rest, but I’d realized Victor was only a small part of a much bigger problem, a problem that was allowed to persist because of the empress, because of her biased, unjust laws—which she, herself, broke frequently.
So, like a snake donning the furs of a rabbit, I had set my sights on the real enemy. For years, I had bided my time, waiting for an opportune moment to strike. Then, Sage had appeared, and I couldn’t explain it, but I knew she was it. So, earlier today, when I’d heard the guards update on her, that she had been taken from the arena, I realized I’d successfully made my first move against the empress.
Now, I just needed to get through this incredibly uncomfortable meal with two of the people I hated the most.
A plate of food rested before me—smoked salmon,rice, carrots, and peas. On my fork, I lifted a bite of green and orange to my mouth. Had I been in my private chamber eating this meal, the roasted vegetables would have tasted quite good, but because I washere, withthem, they turned to a ball of ash on my tongue. When I swallowed, it felt like my esophagus had shrunk, the mashed-up vegetables lodging like sludge in my throat. I grabbed my goblet and drank some of the water down.
My mother had always warned me never to drink the empress’sspecialwine, which was being served tonight, saying that it had caused the downfall of the emperor, as well as many others, and if I were to let a mere droplet of it pass my lips, it would cause my downfall too.
So, I heeded her words.
“Is something not to your liking?” Victor asked, his voice about as pleasant as a black-snake whip splitting open flesh.
“Oh no, it’s all very delicious,” I lied sweetly as I set the goblet down and picked up my knife. How badly I itched to bury it into one of them, but I eyed the salmon on my plate and decided it would have to do. Lightly, I pressed down, severing a small piece of pink, flaky meat.
“You eat with such grace,” Victor said, leaning back in his chair, his arm stretched across the table, his finger rubbing the neck of his goblet in long, slow strokes. Up and down. Up and down. At least it wasn’t his repulsive tongue for a change.
“Thank you,” I answered then tried the salmon. It tasted no different than the peas or carrots.
