Page 86 of Lady of the Drowned Empire
Love,
Aunt Arianna
I was having dinner with Rhyan’s father.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I stepped onto the waterway within the fortress walls, the sky, full of stars, glittering on the glass below me. The air was frigid with the winds of winter, but the waterway flowed swiftly. the water no longer frozen beneath my feet.
“Your grace.” One of the port attendants bowed then quickly straightened and coughed. A dash of embarrassment in his aura swept across my arms. “Lady,” he corrected.
I waved him off and walked forward, my fingers twisting in the skirt of my gown as I approached the promenade, every nerve in my body alert.
I’d been praying all day Rhyan would have returned by now. I’d waited for him at my apartment until the last possible second before venturing out to reach my seraphim at Arianna’s appointed time. I needed to talk to him. In all that had happened between us last night, he still didn’t know what I’d learned—that the answer to finding my power was in Glemaria, and that his father had the key.
He also didn’t know I wanted to speak to his father to find out what I could, which he would definitely be upset about. I’d wanted to brace him by telling him about my plan first.
And I’d wanted to see him after our…I didn’t know what to call it. The conversation between us had been so intense, so intimate, I still felt a strange mix of elation and vulnerability hours later. My cheeks blushing, my heart racing everytime I replayed his words in my head.
But there was no sign of him, and there’d been no calls on the vadati all day. Most likely he was traveling, surrounded by others. I just hoped he got back soon.
A litter with green velvet curtains and silver threading depicting a gryphon was surrounded by a dozen mages outside the fortress walls just left of the promenade. My stomach dropped. This was Imperator Hart’s litter. I remembered it from his last visit with Rhyan.
The front doors opened, and Euston and Rhodes both greeted me, their faces drawn as I stepped inside the Great Hall.
There was a change in the feel of the Cresthaven that I noticed immediately. A colder, more brutal aura overlayed what I’d grown up experiencing. I barely recognized my own home. It was full of Glemarians, all Imperator Hart’s men. His soturi wore black leathered armor like Rhyan and heavy soturion-issued boots. Thick leather straps across their chests. Their eyes followed me as I walked through the hall, tracking and assessing my progress, but no one reacted otherwise to my presence, and I couldn’t tell if that was from their training or because without my diadem, they had no idea who I was.
A guard from Ka Batavia stood outside the dining hall, though not one I was familiar with. Perhaps it was someone new who had proven her loyalty to Arianna. I eyed her suspiciously even after she nodded at Markan and opened the door for us, calling out my name to formally announce my entrance.
I stepped inside, finding myself face to face with Tristan and Naria. Shit. All of Ka Grey was apparently in attendance tonight. It was as if the two kavim had already merged despite the wedding date not even having been set yet—unless I’d missed the announcement. Which was entirely possible considering how distracted I was. The remaining members of the Bamarian Council along with their significant others filled the room, everyone decked out in fine velvets and satins. We were still in our mourning period, but hardly anyone wore black. Most had returned to wearing the colors and symbols of their Ka.
At a head table in the center, sitting on golden chairs, were Arianna, and Rhyan’s father, Arkasva Hart, High Lord of Glemaria, Imperator to the North.
My body stiffened.
I felt the cold the moment his eyes landed on me. It was nothing like Rhyan’s aura. Rhyan brought forth the soft side of winter, the calm cold I needed to soothe me when I was too fired up or anxious.
Devon Hart’s coldness was strangling and oppressive, giving me the sensation of being lost in a desolate wasteland. It was frigid and biting, an endless darkness I wanted to take cover from.
Imperator Hart had a similar height and build to Rhyan. He was certainly older, but like many soturi, clearly in robust health, his body one of thick muscle. His hair was shorn short, a mix of black and gray, as was his closely trimmed beard. His hairline receded a little at his temples, but otherwise it appeared thick. I recognized the distinct shape of Rhyan’s eyebrows though Imperator Hart didn’t carry a scar. And that detail alone evoked a sudden rage within me.
I’d told Rhyan I’d wanted to kill his father for what he’d done to him—what he still did to him—and I could feel that anger burning now. My fingers clenched into fists, as the dagger sheathed at my thigh began to feel heavy.
Imperator Hart’s eyes were on me, cruel and calculated, as he lowered his chin and bowed in respect. He straightened with a false smile on his lips and with a flick of his finger, beckoned me forward.
I gritted my teeth. I may have lost my status, but I was not one to be beckoned. I did not come when called. And certainly not to this monster.
We unlock for blood, soul, and key. Power is restored, with these three.
I exhaled sharply. I had to put back on my mask. Be Lady Lyriana. Be pliant and pleasant. He had the key, and I needed it. My personal feelings didn’t matter.
I started to nod, but then Morgana appeared at my side and grabbed my arm, dragging me to the table where she sat with Meera and a few of the daughters and sons of Council members. Nobles I’d been acquainted with my entire life—but had grown apart from after we lost Jules.
“Were you just about to go speak to Imperator Hart?” Morgana’s eyebrows lifted in surprise.
Morgana didn’t know about our mother’s journal. Or the key.
“Lyr,” she hissed. “What in Moriel? I can’t read your mind, remember?”
