Page 65 of Esperance

Argent trusted Carver’s instincts, and had promised to help in any way he could. The emperor had been less sure about Carver’s hunch.

“You’ve made a great deal of assumptions without much evidence,” the emperor told him when Carver had made his report. “And the sheer magnitude of such a thing . . . It would be a very difficult thing to accomplish. Fooling everyone at the wedding, and now . . .” He shook his head. “Investigate this, but do not become so focused on this possibility of an imposter that you lose sight of all else.”

It was good advice, and Carver was trying to follow it. But the idea of a pretender walking among them nagged at him.

The emperor had finally healed enough to travel, so he’d left Esperance days ago. In many ways, that was a relief. Though he’d been isolated in his suite and under heavy guard, the emperor would make a tempting target for the Rising.

Thank the Saints there had been no attempts made against him.

Far behind him, the door to the suite opened. Carver shoved the list into his pocket and twisted to see Amryn walk into the sitting room. Her eyes found him, and he felt a spark of surprise—and an undeniable thrill—when she moved to join him at the stone railing. It had been days since they’d had any real opportunity to talk, and he found he’d missed her.

“How was your morning of volunteering?” she asked.

“Fine.” He’d spent it repairing a leaky roof in one of the servant huts, and he’d enjoyed his time working in the sun. “How was the museum?”

“It was interesting. Cleric Jane had me catalogue some old artifacts today.”

“Better than dusting,” he noted.

She chuckled. “Definitely.” She twisted to face him, her hip resting against the railing. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

She bit her lower lip. “What is your history with Rivard?”

The unexpected question froze him.

Amryn must have seen him tense, because the color in her cheeks rose and she was quick to say, “You don’t have to answer, I was just curious.”

His eyes narrowed. “Did you see him today?”

“Our paths crossed briefly.”

He didn’t like that. At all.

When the high cleric and Jayveh had presented the volunteer opportunities to the couples, Carver had already decided to do whatever Ivan did. He needed to learn more about the Sibeten prince—something that had become even more important since learning about the imposter among them.

But when Amryn had chosen to work in the museum—where Argent had asked Rivard to go so he could keep an eye on Darrin—Carver hadn’t been thrilled. He knew the museum was large, and they wouldn’t necessarily be working together. But the thought of Rivard being around Amryn made his skin crawl. Especially since he’d been rude and threatening to her after their night of cards. It didn’t matter that Rivard had been drunk at the time. As Carver well knew, Rivard wrecked anything he touched.

“He really doesn’t like you,” Amryn said, pulling Carver from his thoughts.

He met her searching gaze. “No, he doesn’t. But the feeling is mutual.”

“Why?”

Carver folded his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the side of the balcony, the hard stone digging into his lower back as he faced her. “We were friends, once. I trusted him. Allowed him into my family. And he destroyed my brother’s life.”

Concern swam in her pale green eyes, but she didn’t ask any questions. She just waited.

Slowly, he exhaled. “I first met Rivard when I was ten. He was nine. Like most noble sons in the empire, he came to Westmont for a couple of months each year to train. Argent and I both befriended him. Like Argent, Rivard spent time with my family. While he stayed in Westmont, my mother insisted he join us for family meals, and he joked and laughed with my brothers and sisters. He was part of the family because he was my friend.”

He shook his head. “Rivard’s father is a high-ranking member of the Order of Knights. His older brothers are all part of the Order, too. But when Rivard undertook the trials to become a knight, he failed. There were no second chances, and that failure shattered him. Becoming a knight was all he’d dreamed of. It was all his family wanted. And when that didn’t happen . . . I knew his family didn’t make it easy on him. What Ididn’tknow was that he was coping with his failure with the use ofsonne, a Daersen drug.”

Amryn was silent as she watched him, and Carver was grateful she wasn’t asking questions. Wasn’t forcing him to reveal anything, or change the pace of his story. It gave him time to grapple with the memories. The anger.

The guilt.

His fingers dug into his arms. “This was five years ago. I had just gotten a promotion, and I knew my success would be hard on Rivard. But I also knew that staying with his family wasn’t helping his melancholy, so I invited him to spend the summer in Westmont. I wanted to help him, but I was also extremely busy with my new duties, and I didn’t have as much time for him as I thought I would. I was relieved when I saw Rivard and Berron spending time together. I didn’t think anything of it, and I didn’t notice the subtle changes in my brother. The growing secretiveness. The sneaking out. The lies he told. How many meals he missed. I didn’t notice any of it until it was too late.”

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