All the more reason to leave this place behind.
If she’ll have me.
She came, I remind myself,that has to mean she wants me.Surely no one would come to a mate challenge if they were uninterested.
“Niklaus.” Cassie’s voice is full of warning as the maid leaves with a bow. “I can hear you doubting yourself.”
“She doesn’t know me. The feast will give her the wrong impression.”
My sister swims closer, and I automatically grab her hand to pull her beside me.
“You’ve not shared any dreams with her since the last time?” she asks.
“No.”
They’ve been disrupting my sleep patterns, making it hard to find a time when we’re both asleep so I can’t plot anything. Not that I’ll tell Cassie that. She’ll just get herself into trouble for trying to stop them.
“You have to both sleep at the same time, if your schedules don’t line up…”
“I know.” It didn’t make it any better.
“She’ll see you, Niklaus. The Nilsa in my visions isn’t a fool.” Cassie pauses, as if debating saying something, but chooses to remain silent.
After all the decades I’ve spent as her carer, I know instinctively when she’s going into a vision. Her daily trips to the temple of Fate reduce the chance of a spontaneous one occurring, but they still happen from time to time.
So I watch for the signs, the tensing of muscles or the disrupted breathing that indicates a vision turning sour.
It never happens. She just floats, serene, in the water.
“How will your sister cope when you are gone?” My mother must have snuck into the room while we were talking, and I spin on the spot to bow.
“She’s given me her blessing, Empress.”
She looks regal today. Gilded armour and chains winding around her body in a complex pattern which is designed to catch the eye and display her two sleeves of tattoos to the world. The sirenae empress is so decorated that one arm was not enough to hold the records of all of her accolades.
Once upon a time I’d dreamed of having that many marks. Now I only dream of losing the ones that mark me as hers.
“You were raised to be her carer,” she continues, swimming around me in a familiar inspection that never fails to make my scales bristle. “Adella is graciously willing to permit you to remain in your role.”
I bite my tongue, keeping my eyes downcast.
“You wish to speak? Speak.”
Is this a trap? I can never quite tell with her. Today, her expression is open, eyes curious in a way that’s rare. I don’t sense any threatening undertones, and there’s no one to hear, so I answer her truthfully.
“Nilsa is graciously willing to permit me to be who I am.”
Her laugh is unexpected. “Oh, you have no idea how many times I’ve wished you were my daughter. You would have made a blunt but excellent general.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, Empress.”
She continues circling me. “If you were, you’d probably have been my favourite.”
I stay silent, silently ignoring the age-old wound she’s ripping open again.
Like always, we circle back to the same impasse. To earn my mother’s love, I must be female. The one thing I cannot be. Cassandra bears the same scars, unable to take up the mantle of a warrior which would earn her the maternal affection and recognition our other sisters are lavished with.
“It is difficult to be both Empress and mother,” her whisper is unexpected, breaking me out of my bitter thoughts. “I can never doubt my own decisions. I must give my children the best I can, while admitting they can never come before the needs of my empire and pray they forgive me for it. Your sisters understand this. They have taken men into their harems that they despise because I have asked it of them. They have gone into hopeless battles because they’re willing to swim through fire for our people.