Betrothed to the Emperor (Emperor’s Assassin #1)

Chapter 1

One

“ W e can do this,” I whispered to my sister. The guard’s eyes flicked to us, but he didn’t speak Northern, so he merely grimaced and dropped his hand to the hilt of his blade.

“Quiet,” hissed Lord Fuyii. He glared at me, smiling all teeth when the guard frowned at him.

Eona? shot me an annoyed look, the blue of her eyes contrasting with the violet gown Lord Fuyii had insisted on. After all, the emperor’s betrothed couldn’t arrive in the Imperium wearing furs and leathers.

As her escort, I was still allowed mine, and now I wished I’d put on the offered imperial-style clothes. At least then, Eona? wouldn’t be alone. With her hair pulled back, a golden pin fastening it in a small bun on top of her head, my twin looked foreign, like she was no longer the girl who had once dumped a bucket of mop water on my head.

“You look good,” I offered, louder. “Better than anyone else in the carriage.”

Lord Fuyii tutted again. “How many times do I need to warn you about your tongue, Airón? Be civilized. Speak Northern and Emperor Millu might cut out your tongue.”

Eona? said nothing. They might not understand our language, but we couldn’t be foolish. Not this close to our goal, not when it was within our touch.

She was going to marry the emperor so that I could kill him.

And then, in all likelihood, we would both be killed, but that was a problem for after I had imperial blood on my hands. Eona? finally relented.

“How much farther?” Eona?’s Imperial was good, almost flawless, and Lord Fuyii hid his small smile behind his fan.

“We’re almost there,” the guard said, grudgingly adding, “Princess.”

Lord Fuyii said sharply, “You should be grateful His Imperial Majesty has even sent the carriage for you! It would be decent for the supplicant in the marriage to walk through the streets as it was done in the Dragon Chosen days. Despite my best work, you are still lacking.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Dear master, do you think you could manage the walk? It is very far from the docks to the Imperial Capital and even further to the Mountainside Palace. I’m sure you are grateful as well.”

“You dare—” Lord Fuyii raised his hand, his wide fan snapping shut in the same motion as he brought it down across my face.

He was panting, his pale skin flushed from the effort. Even the guard seemed startled, frowning at Lord Fuyii. The carriage drew to a stop, the creak of the mechanized wheels braking startlingly loud.

The door opened, and Lord Fuyii started to rise, but I moved faster, forcing him back into his seat, the narrow carriage only allowing one person to stand.

“Sister,” I murmured. Everything I wanted to say needed to remain unspoken. We had one chance to make an impression, to amaze the court and the emperor. To make her desirable to a man as old as our father.

Eona? shot me a smirk. She drew her chin up, stepping out of the carriage with all the grace she had learned. The violet might not match her complexion or her eyes, but it made a statement, being only a shade lighter than the emperor’s colors. I gave Lord Fuyii another nudge and then followed after her.

The carriage had stopped outside one of the entrances to the Mountainside Palace. The three-story building spread wide, with windows spanning from the high ceiling to the ground and linked by bridges to another, taller building constructed from different colored stone. Rows and rows of people dressed in every shade of yellow bowed, the color marking them as palace servants of various ranks.

Lord Fuyii stumbled down from the carriage, his eyes wide at the sight. In the mid-morning light, the makeup he’d put on was even more obvious. The shimmery powder favored by the court had packed into his wrinkles, thickening there and emphasizing how much the alcohol and despair had aged him.

One of the servants near the carriage rose, her unpowdered skin gleaming. Her hair was pulled back in a practical version of Eona?’s styling, and the yellow of her uniform was closer to a marigold color, marking her as senior staff, almost an official.

“Your Highnesses, my name is Nohe. I’m in charge of Turtle House, where dignitaries stay. If you will follow me, we’ve prepared refreshments for you to enjoy after your long journey.” Nohe gestured with one hand, bowing slightly to indicate the request in her words. Southerners spoke more with their bodies than we did, each motion its own phrase.

I glanced back at our carriage. “Our belongings?”

“We’ll have them taken directly to the guest quarters,” Nohe said. She gestured again, bowing slightly lower, and Eona? followed her implicit instruction, not even looking back to see if we followed.

The building’s pillars were wide enough that three southern men could wrap their arms around one and never touch hands. The windows were decorated with gold, a pattern of water dragons chasing each other up and down the panes of glass.

“Excessive,” I muttered in Northern. “How many visiting dignitaries do they have now that they’ve conquered all their neighbors?”

At the doorway, the guard who had traveled with us from the docks bowed low and muttered something about honoring us and then turned, clearly ready to return to his unit. The first room we passed through was beautiful, even as it failed to live up to the exterior of the building. Nohe gestured us through another door into an even more exquisite room and then glided through it into a third room with walls decorated in gold and ivory.

As Lord Fuyii tried to follow us in, Nohe raised a hand. The motion was as clear as a shout in the imperial language of gesture and movement. Lord Fuyii pulled up short, his eyes narrowing.

“Lord Fuyii, your refreshments are here,” Nohe said, indicating the second room, then shut the sliding door. I raised an eyebrow at Eona?.

“Your Highnesses.” Nohe gestured to a low table surrounded by cushions. She took the covering off several dishes, and my stomach twisted with hunger, dismissing how easily she had gotten rid of Lord Fuyii.

The man had been like a leech since the imperial ship had arrived to take Eona? south: he’d clung to her, unwilling to give up his one chance to get back into the court’s good graces. For someone who’d seen his job to train Eona? as a prison sentence, he was very willing to drink the fine wine Eona? had made from the poor grapes of his teaching.

“The emperor is with his ministers at the moment, but he asked me to make you comfortable until he’s available for court.” Nohe bowed low to us again, her fingers forming a triangle above her forehead in a sign of great respect. “I will leave you, but if you have need of me, you can ring one of the bells.”

She gestured to the golden bells positioned on each wall. Then, with a final bow, she walked out a much smaller door, clearly only used by servants.

“Well,” I said, examining the room. Everything was gold, from the carefully decorated walls to the stitching in the cushions. A statue of a golden tree took up most of the space, lit from above by a skylight so it looked as though the sun itself was blessing it. “That was efficient.”

“It was disrespectful,” Eona? pointed out. “We’ve journeyed how long, and the emperor can’t make time to see us?”

“You know how it is with wars”—I leaned over and plucked a small, orange fruit off one of the dishes—“they don’t stop even when your pretty wife shows up.”

“Betrothed. Not wife. Not yet,” Eona? corrected. “Airón?—”

Footsteps moved in the servants’ hallway. I held up a hand, and Eona? quieted. We both stared expectantly at the door, but the footsteps continued past us to the room where Lord Fuyii had been so neatly discarded.

A soft chime rang in the other room, and whatever Fuyii said in response was muffled. When I glanced at Eona?, she shrugged. Moving quietly, we both approached the door between our room and Fuyii’s, leaning close to hear through it.

“Count Sotonam.” Lord Fuyii inhaled unsteadily. “The emperor sent you ?”

“So, Fuyii.” Sotonam used the familiar address, not even granting Lord Fuyii his title. “After all that, you crawled north to pickle yourself in alcohol and do what? Teach one of the barbarians to pretend at being an empress?”

“Sotonam.” Lord Fuyii addressed him with the same informality. “You managed to squirm back into court. What did you give up to become…”

He trailed off, and the pause lengthened.

Sotonam’s voice was maliciously pleased. “Minister of Peace. While you took a position as a servant of the Northern King. How very creative of you. I suppose when Emperor Millu banished you, he could not have thought of a more appropriate punishment.”

“I trained the future empress!” Lord Fuyii raised his voice, as though he’d done more than lecture and hit us with his fan when we ate an imperial meal in the wrong order.

“Perhaps. We will have to see what the emperor says. Maybe he won’t like her, given that you trained her.” Sotonam’s voice moved as though he was getting closer to the door.

“I made her to Emperor Millu’s desires. I do know them. I fetched all his girls for him.” Lord Fuyii sounded satisfied.

“Oh, you are behind the times,” Sotonam said. “Emperor Millu is dead.”

“Dead?” Fuyii coughed. “No. No one said anything on the voyage. How?”

“We thought the north had spies, but perhaps we overestimated their abilities.” Sotonam put something down with an audible click.

“How?” Fuyii asked. “What happened? A battle?”

“A strange illness overtook Emperor Millu, his wife, and son. All died while they were summering at the Lakeshore Palace. Away from court and the royal physicians. It happened so quickly,” Sotonam said.

“Prince Tallu died with him?” Fuyii’s voice trembled. “Who is emperor, then? What will become of the Imperium?”

“No. You mistake. Emperor Millu’s younger son, Prince Hallu, died.” Sotonam turned away, his voice in the wrong direction to hear it clearly. “Tallu is emperor now.”

“Tallu? No, he was just a boy.” Fuyii’s frown was audible, the confusion making his words curl up at the end, not quite a question.

“Tallu is no boy. He is a viper.” Sotonam’s voice was lethal, vicious. It was a blade drawn across an unsuspecting neck. “He was the one who revealed your plot to Emperor Millu. He is more ruthless than his father, and he knows every secret in the palace. He has exiled or had killed at least seven members of the council. I suspect more.”

Lord Fuyii murmured, “No.”

“Yes,” Sotonam said. “So I come to you with a proposition. We want to know all the secrets of these… northerners. Tell me what you know, and I will inform the emperor of your service. Perhaps he will even grant you leave to take up residence in one of the conquered lands. Tavornai or the Blood Mountains…”

Silence stretched in the room. I couldn’t hear anything, even with my ear pressed hard against the door.

“Well… I cannot say your time in the barbaric north increased your intelligence.” Lord Sotonam must have moved away because the room was quiet for a long beat. Long enough that I pulled back and raised my eyebrows at Eona?.

She looked thoughtful, a frown on her face marring her perfectly smooth brow. She nodded back toward the table. I rose to follow her, but there was a loud crash in the other room. Fuyii cursed, his sneer obvious in his words.

“No,” he hissed viciously. “He cannot take it from me. He cannot . I took that brat and made her an empress.”

Eona?’s hand closed over my arm and drew me back to the table. She served me a few tastes from the dishes before taking some for herself, as gracefully as any imperial mistress.

There were soft, steamed breads and a small sampling of fried seafood with a tangy dipping sauce. A tray of fresh and pickled vegetables spread out appealingly. I sampled some of the fried squid.

“What do you think?” I whispered.

“It changes nothing.” Eona? lowered her eyes. I could see the tremble of terror that shivered up her spine, only to be controlled a moment later. She had been trained to meet Millu’s preferences, preferences we did not know if Tallu shared. “It must change nothing.”

When she looked up, I knew it was like looking in a mirror. We both shared our mother’s pale coloring, her high cheekbones, and the sharp blue eyes of our father. And we both knew all the possibilities, all the outcomes.

We ate in silence until we finished the tray of vegetables, Eona? being careful of her silk sleeves, which would have been much less forgiving of spills than the leather and fur I wore.

“Do we ask Fuyii?” Eona? asked, pacing across the room to the tall statue of a tree, nearly brushing the ceiling.

“No,” I said. “It’s too much of a risk. How could we trust his information, knowing their history?”

Fuyii had left the Imperial Court in disgrace, losing his dukedom as well as the money and land that went with the title, and Mother had only been willing to take him on because he had been so high-ranked before he’d been banished. If he and the new emperor had bad blood between them, he was even less reliable than he’d been when half-drunk and angry.

“Airón.” Eona? looked up at the tree. “This tree lives.”

I blinked at her, shaking my head. “No, it’s…”

Frowning, I took a few steps closer. Someone had taken the time to gold leaf every inch of it. The entire thing had been gilded, but at the very top there was a hint of green leaves, necessary for the plant to survive.

This was how it was in the Imperium: they consumed everything. They would consume us if we let them. If we didn’t manage the task we’d been born to do.

The side door opened, and Nohe stepped in, bowing low, her triangled fingers showing respect. “Emperor Tallu is ready to receive you, princess.”

“Emperor Tallu ?” Eona? was so good that I almost believed she hadn’t known. “I’m confused. Is it not Emperor Millu?”

“Emperor Millu passed last winter.” Nohe didn’t rise, so I couldn’t see the expression on her face. “Emperor Tallu asks for your presence.” A line of tension tightened Nohe’s shoulders. She straightened and opened large doors on the other side of the room that led to a hallway. “This way.”

Raising her chin, Eona? followed Nohe’s direction. I was more cautious because it was her job to distract and my job to make sure we survived long enough to destroy the empire. The hallway was lined with carved panels and wall hangings that stood out in bright colors, massive tapestries depicting the rise of the empire, the Imperium’s full history stitched by hand, no doubt blinding the weavers who’d worked such fine stitches in the cloths.

Ahead, two guards dressed in an orangish yellow opened double doors, revealing a darkened room beyond. Eona? didn’t glance at them, but I noted the sharp double swords they both wore. Dangerous, but I had trained to fight those blades.

The hall had no obvious exits, and the room we stepped into was so dark it took my eyes a moment to adjust.

At first, I thought we were surrounded by metal statues. Then, one moved, taking a sip from the decorative cup in her hand. She turned, her voice inaudible, as though the darkness had taken her words and eaten them.

From polished gold to a high brass, even a shimmering nickel color, the Imperial Court wore their powders and paints with such grace that they looked carved from metal. Only their smooth movements and unpainted eyes revealed them as flesh and blood. In such dim lighting, they looked even more like the precious metals they aspired to be.

So this was the Imperial Court. The colors and stitching on their clothes indicated the various families they belonged to. Other than the servants, no one here was less than a lord.

The only chair in the whole room was the throne. Carved from black stone, it sat atop a raised platform under a bower of metal flowers. And there was my target.

Emperor Tallu’s skin was somewhere between gold and brass, and it gleamed in the light, although without makeup, it didn’t glitter. Russet-brown eyes followed me as we made our way forward. The gold circlet glinting on his head marked his rank, as though it were possible to look at him and think he was anything other than His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Tallu . On top of a typical imperial shirt, he wore a long robe, its hem pooling on the ground around his feet. On each finger, he wore a set of three patterned gold rings, that covered his skin nearly to the first knuckle.

At the bottom of the raised platform, Eona? stopped, raising her chin.

“My lord,” she said, using the intimate form of address that implied a close relationship, “I am Princess Eona?, daughter of King Rimáu. This is my brother and protector, Prince Airón. I come to fulfill the agreement forged by our father with”—Eona? barely paused, likely realizing that mentioning the dead emperor was a bad decision—“the Imperium.”

Emperor Tallu blinked. His eyes raked over me, and it felt like thrusting my hand into open flame. “Your brother ?”

“My twin,” Eona? said.

Stillness engulfed the room. If they had resembled statues before, now the members of court barely breathed, frozen in anticipation.

“And which of you was born first?” Tallu leaned over, resting his chin on his hand. His face was blank. He might not wear the same paints and powders as his court, but in that moment, he could have been carved by the mountain dwarves of Krustau, his face expressionless and perfect.

“We don’t know. Our mother had no idea. She was in such pain, and the labor was hard.” Eona? hesitated but then asked, “Is there a reason you ask?”

Emperor Tallu ignored her question, answering with one of his own. “And what did the midwife say? Or your father?”

“The midwife died when we were children and was forgetful. She barely remembered helping in our birth.” Eona? looked back at me, and I could read a question in the slight narrowing of her eyes. “Our father was not at our birth.”

Emperor Tallu stood, his robe flowing behind him as though he was bringing in a silent tide as he walked. He descended two steps to the floor, four shadows dogging his steps.

I shook my head when they came into focus. They weren’t shadows—they were four men wearing matte-black masks that clung to their faces, carved to look like vicious animals. Their clothes were ashy gray to better hide in darkness. They were the Imperium’s most lethal guards: the Emperor’s Dogs.

Tallu stepped forward, his wine-colored robe turning nearly black up close. Eona? raised her chin, ready for appraisal. But Tallu moved past Eona? to where I stood behind her. Tensing, my mind went blank. How could I fight four of the best-trained men in the Imperium? Would I even have a chance?

Tallu put his hand under my chin, raising it so that we were eye to eye. His fingers were so warm that the surrounding air felt cold on my skin. I shivered at the touch, although it was barely more than a brush of skin on skin. “So, either one of you could be the firstborn of Queen Op?la.”

“What?” I asked, swallowing. “Your Imperial Majesty?”

Tallu’s eyes were brilliant, as though they contained bright red flames that lit the tundra at night. “That was the agreement between my father, Emperor Millu, and your father, King Rimáu. The emperor would marry the firstborn that your mother carried in her belly when the deal was struck. I choose you, Prince Airón of the Northern Kingdom. You will be my consort.”