Page 132 of Esperance

Her thoughts faltered.Saints. He’d thought she was a rebel all this time—not an empath.

And he hadn’t arrested her. It had been days since his suspicions had been confirmed, but he hadn’t done anything.

Except nearly kiss her.

Her breath caught. “You’ve known I was a rebel this whole time?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you . . .?”

“I didn’t want it to be true.” A muscle in his jaw ticked. “I need to know what you’ve done. What’s coming.”

Her mind spun, but she forced herself to focus. “They plan to assassinate Argent at the Feast of Remembrance. At midnight, during the festivities. They want to kill Jayveh, too.” She swallowed. “And you.”

Carver’s intense expression didn’t change. “Why tell me?”

It wasn’t a question she’d expected. “I . . . I can’t just stand back and let them do this. Argent doesn’t deserve to die. I might have thought that before, but now that I know him . . . He’s the only hope the empire has. And Jayveh is my friend. I won’t let them kill her and her unborn child. And you . . .” Her voice fell. Trapped by the force of his gaze, she couldn’t say more than a whispered, “I can’t let them kill you.”

Carver said nothing for a long moment. Just stared at her. Then, “Why did you join them?”

“W-why?”

“It’s not a difficult question. Why did you choose to betray the empire?”

“I . . . I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want the truth.” His voice was hard. Uncompromising.

The crack in her chest made her voice break. “The empire betrayedme. Ferradin. Every kingdom it has conquered. The empire is everything I hate.”

She swore she saw him flinch, but it was so fast it may have been a trick of her watering eyes.

She slowly shook her head. “When I was told the empire would steal my life by making me come here and marry a stranger . . . Whywouldn’tI have joined the group that promised me freedom? Freedom for Ferradin, and every other enslaved country?”

His eyes shadowed. “So you weren’t forced?”

“No. I made my choice. Just as I am now choosing to betray them.”

Carver twisted away from her without warning, one hand shoving into his hair as he stalked across the room.

Her heart was in her throat. “Carver—”

“I need a moment,” he gritted out as he paced. “I need to think.”

She clamped her mouth shut. It was difficult to read his emotions when hers were an ongoing explosion, but she tried—and they only confused her more.

Fear. Pain. Regret. Resolve. But not anger.

It was the absence of that emotion that helped rein in her need to break the strained silence.

Finally, he paused near the settee, and his eyes pinned her once more. “What was your part in the plan? What have you been doing for them?”

Her voice came out a little hoarse. “They asked me to make copies of the empirical seals, which are in the museum archives. That’s all.”

“When did you learn of the Rising’s plan to assassinate them?”

“This afternoon.” She swallowed. “I asked to meet them in person—we’ve been communicating through notes in a book, but after what happened on Zawri . . . I wanted to know what was happening, and I thought I might be able to persuade them away from any further violence. But then I learned their plan.”

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