The skin around her eyes tightened, and in no way did she return his smile.
So much for charm. Perhaps he was simply out of practice.
Amryn glanced at her uncle. “We should take our seats.”
Rix didn’t look at all inclined to leave her with Carver. But since everyone else in the room was winding their way toward their assigned tables, he didn’t have much of a choice.
His guarded eyes slid to Carver, and his jaw flexed as he clearly fought for words. Since the emperor had decreed that all escorts would depart before dark, this could be the only time Amryn’s uncle had with Carver.
Finally, the man spoke, and his voice was surprisingly rough. “Don’t hurt her.”
The unexpected order was edged with a plea, and Carver’s shoulders tightened. “I won’t.”
It wasn’t exactly a lie; Carver would never personally hurt a woman. But if Amryn was a traitor to the empire, he would do his duty.
Rix’s expression hardened, but he didn’t say anything else as he turned to Amryn and pressed a quick kiss to her temple. He whispered something indistinct, then—with a last look at Carver—he strode away.
Carver turned to escort Amryn, but she was already moving for the head table, which was raised on a dais and set perpendicular to the other three long tables in the hall. He followed after her, walking briskly enough that he easily caught up to her. He said nothing as they found their seats.
Carver was relieved to see that Rivard had been placed some distance away with his own new bride. The emperor had asked if there would be any trouble between him and Rivard, and Carver had assured him there would be none.
As long as Rivard kept his distance, that might actually remain true.
Carver set down his wineglass and pulled back Amryn’s chair for her.
She visibly stiffened, but gathered her long skirt and sank onto the cushioned seat. Once she was settled at the table, he sat beside her.
The grating sound of chairs being pulled across the stone floor echoed across the banquet hall until everyone was seated.
The emperor stood at the end of the long head table, his bodyguards behind him as he faced the room.
Emperor Lorcan Vayne’s hair was thin and white, and his blue eyes were watery with age. He was seventy-six years old, and his frailties had begun to show. Looking at him, one might find it difficult to believe he had actually been the man to envision an empire, and then fight to make it happen. Before the empire existed, Lorcan Vayne had been the king of Craethen. But he had risen to unite eleven other kingdoms, establishing unmitigated peace across the greater part of the continent. He was committed to keeping that peace alive—no matter the cost.
The emperor beamed as he lifted his age-spotted hands. “Welcome to Esperance!” His gaze skated over the couples seated at the table, his eyes shining. “This temple is a place of peace and light, and you are the bright future of our great empire. You—the Empire’s Chosen—will lead us into a new age of unmitigated peace. You have each been selected by the rulers of your individual kingdoms, and I am grateful for your willingness to embrace this unique task.” He straightened a little, and though he was still clearly speaking to the newlyweds, his voice projected throughout the room. “For one year, you will be sealed together on these temple grounds. Guards will secure the gates, and they will not admit anyone inside the compound, nor will they permit anyone to leave. There will be no messages sent or received.
“Sealing Esperance is for your safety. It is also for your growth. You will have uninterrupted time to strengthen your marriages as well as foster friendships with the other chosen. There will be no outside distractions, influences, or biases. You will learn to rely on and trust each other. Through marriage, you will mend the rifts of previous generations. Working together, you will solidify the peace that was the inspiration for this empire. Because there is strength and peace in unity.”
The motto of the empire was echoed by the spectators seated at the other tables: “Strength and peace in unity!”
Emperor Lorcan’s face softened. “The empire began in the kingdom of Craethen, and has since spread to become the strongest power in the world. We united so no more senseless blood would be spilled between neighbors. So that our kingdoms could come together for peace, not war.” He looked to Argent, and then Jayveh, and his smile broadened. “My grandson, the future emperor of Craethen, and his beautiful wife, the future empress, will lead us into a new age. With their support, and the leadership of one of my best advisors, Chancellor Aaron Trevill, these newly wedded couples will form the first Craethen Council. Together, you will debate important decisions that face our empire and help construct new laws that will shape our joined nations. Each kingdom in the empire will always have a voice on the council. By merging the high families of each kingdom, we have assured that your future children will bind all of us even more irrevocably together. Because of the efforts of the twelve of you, the Craethen Empire will live forever!”
Applause began somewhere—probably from the clerics in the room—and the witnesses and escorts soon joined in. Amryn clapped with the rest of them, though the motion was stilted.
Carver couldn’t really fault her for her rigidness. His own clapping rang false in his ears.
Then something else rang out: the snap and twang of a fired crossbow.
The sound was nearly drowned out by the crowd, but Carver would have known it anywhere.
His stomach dropped. “Get down!” he shouted, but it was too late.
A cry pierced the room and the emperor fell, a bolt buried high in his chest.
Chapter 3
Amryn
Carver’s shout jolted Amryn,but it was feeling the emperor’s agony that made her gasp.