CHAPTER NINETEEN
LYRIANA
I groaned, my entire body aching as I opened my eyes. The fiery feeling of the Valalumir was still pulsing through my skin like a living memory. I clutched at my chest, my breath catching, then ran my hand down my tunic. It was no longer ripped. A silver thread down the center held the pieces together in neat, even stitches.
I tried to take a deep breath despite the pain, and get my bearings. My head was resting on a soft pillow, and thick, woolen blankets covered my body. I was in an actual bed. The first bed I’d slept in in weeks. I couldn’t remember the last time I woke up in one—or the last time I’d woken up alone, without Rhyan. He’d been a constant by my side since we left Bamaria, always snuggled against my body, his arms wrapped tightly around me.
A small fire burned a few feet away. A fire in a real fireplace, not just one haphazardly built inside the loose stones of a cave. Behind the bed were frosted windows with open curtains. Night had fallen. Torches protruding from the snowy towers reflected in the glass, and a gryphon growled from beyond, its outstretched wings flying across the mountainous horizon.
My heart pounded as I sat up. These weren’t the dungeons. But a bedroom. A high-ranking noble’s bedroom.
Blinking, and on the verge of panic, I took in my surroundings, the feel and scent of the space around me. And it was then that I knew without a doubt, this was Rhyan’s room. The bedroom he’d grown up in.
“Are you all right, Lady Lyriana?” Kenna sat in an armchair beyond the fireplace. She looked uncomfortable, stiff, and tired. She’d clearly been on guard.
“You’ve been here the whole time?” I asked, unable to keep the anger from my voice. Then added, “Your Grace.”
“Aye, I was,” she said softly. “I fixed your tunic for you. Used a sewing spell while you were asleep. I hope you don’t mind.”
My cheeks burned as I realized I’d been carried unconscious through Seathorne with my shirt torn open. Exposed. Again. In front of Rhyan’s father, in front of Kane and Dario. And Kenna. I looked down at the silver thread. But all I could see were Kane’s hands, see him ripping the fabric, and all I could remember was the feel of terror and humiliation washing over me, the pain of the fire that burned in my heart.
But aside from the horror of meeting him, there was also the small bit of knowledge I’d tucked away. He was a Guardian. A fucking Guardian. Only Hava, Cassarya, and Shiviel were unidentified. According to the stories, Shiviel was the only one of the three to join forces with Moriel. He’d turned on Auriel and Asherah just as Moriel and Ereshya had. And if I had to guess, I’d put money on it: Kane was the reincarnation of Shiviel. The one God said to be more monstrous than Moriel. And he was in charge of Glemaria’s legions.
“I’ve been watching over you,” Kenna said. “Imperator Hart asked me to stay, he said you’d want a female companion. You don’t have to worry about when you were unconscious. You haven’t been disturbed here. I swear.”
I stared down at the bed—Rhyan’s bed—realizing suddenly why I was here. Not out of kindness, nor because I was a “guest” of Imperator Hart’s. I was here as a unique form of cruelty. A reminder that before me, Rhyan had a lover. For seven months. Seven fucking months. Far longer than he and I had been together. And now, I was trapped with her.
Gods. I could feel him everywhere. Calm, soothing colors filled every corner from the curtains to the couch cushions. They were in the soft fabric of the pillows and bedspreads. So much muted green against the dark wood of his furniture. Everything was neat and tidy, just the way he’d kept things in his apartment. The way he arranged our practice weapons in our training room at the Katurium. Even the way he somehow managed to make living in a cave look purposeful. The ghost of Rhyan was etched into every inch of the room. Including the bed. Where he’d slept.
With Kenna.
My throat dried painfully, and just like that, my imagination ran away from me. I could see her in my mind, see her as she would have been. Her belly flat, her body lean and lithe—the opposite of mine in every way. I could see Rhyan naked. I could hear the sounds he would make when he lost control, feel the specific way his hips moved, the way he kissed, the way his eyes locked with mine when he was deep inside me. Gods. That knowledge was private. Intimate. His. Mine. Ours. A secret we carried between us.
But it was a secret Kenna had been privy to as well.
In this bed, right where I lay, for seven months, his eyes had locked with hers.
It would have been kinder for the Imperator to lock me in the prisons. But he wanted to hurt me, to break me. And I had to remember that. He could do it physically if he wanted to—and I had no doubt he would soon. But emotional torture was where his expertise lay, combat through mental warfare. Humiliation was just as sharp a tool in his arsenal as his sword.
I couldn’t let him get to me—especially not over something as inconsequential as this. I always knew he had a past, just as he knew I did. And it didn’t matter. It wouldn’t change anything between us. I’d just been caught off guard. But knowing Rhyan had kept something this big from me, was worrying. He also hadn’t told me about Garrett. Why? What else was he hiding from me?
I pushed away from the pillows and threw off the covers, swinging my legs to the side, my feet touching the soft carpet as I tried to think of anything but this bed, anything but who had slept in it.
In a corner, I found a set of old weights, and some blunt practice swords. Rhyan’s old weapons. Above them was a painting of a gryphon soaring over Glemarian pine trees. I blinked back tears and caught my reflection in his mirror. Dark circles were under my eyes, and my hair was a mess, frizzy and wild, half of the waves sticking out from my loose braid. There was no shine like Kenna’s. I looked paler than I’d ever seen myself.
“You know where you are, my lady?” Kenna asked.
“Seathorne? Or did you mean Rhyan’s bedroom? Because yes, I can tell.”
Kenna nodded. “You must be thirsty.” There was a creaking sound, and I turned to see her struggling to lift herself from the chair and heading to Rhyan’s desk. An old jar of ink, and several scratch pens were laid neatly in the corner. There was also a jug of water and several glasses.
“Don’t,” I sneered, and strolled from the bed. “I can get my own water.”
“Because you’re mad at who I am?” she challenged, her accent deepening. “Or because you don’t trust me?”
I glared. “You’re farther than fucking Lethea if you think I can trust you.” My guts roiled. “How could I when you’re—”
“Please.” She shook her head emphatically. “Don’t be upset about that. That’s been over for a very long time.”
Over between her and Rhyan . My cheeks burned. “I was going to say you’re married to the Imperator.”
Kenna’s face paled. “Right. Well, that … is an ongoing matter.”
“Let’s also not forget I just broke your father’s nose.”
I snatched the jug from the table, refusing to look at her as I poured, filling two glasses with water. She reached out a hand to help, but I kept pouring, eyes on the fall of liquid into each glass, watching the way they reflected light from the fire. From the corner of my eye, I saw her lower her hand and step back.
She was so Godsdamned pretty. I had thought so when I first saw her. But here, away from the Imperator, it was even more obvious. It didn’t help that something about the intelligence and kindness in her face made me want to like her. Made me see why Rhyan had. There was a spark in her brown eyes, and something in her aura that would have drawn me to her if we’d met at court. But whether or not I could trust her—that was an entirely different matter.
“My point is,” I said, “There’s no need for you to wait on me when you’re this pregnant. Sit.”
She frowned. “I’m not the one who passed out.”
“Well between the two of us, I think I had the more eventful morning.” I slammed the jug on Rhyan’s desk, and slid one glass toward her.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Where’s my sister?” I asked.
Kenna took a sip, her brown eyes watching me carefully. “She was moved from the medical wing to her own guest room. She’s in a hall not far from here. Dario sent word. He’s keeping an eye on her with Aiden.”
“Oh, that makes me feel so much better,” I snapped, not even trying to hide the disdain in my voice.
“It should,” Kenna said. “Not everyone here is trustworthy. But they won’t hurt her.”
I rolled my eyes and scoffed. “They bound us. They nearly got us killed out there, and then they broke Rhyan’s nose. Twice by the way,” I said. “And now we’re trapped here as prisoners, because of them. I wouldn’t exactly call them trustworthy.”
Kenna sighed. “I heard about that, and I saw the condition of Rhyan’s face down there,” she said diplomatically. “But you can trust them when it matters. I consider them friends, they don’t harm for fun, nor do they harm those helpless to fight back.”
“Helpless to fight back? They broke his nose!” I yelled. “When he was fucking bound! So, how’s that for being helpless to fight back? They could barely be trusted to free us from our bindings when akadim attacked. And remind me, but I’m pretty sure it was Dario holding down a bound and helpless Rhyan this morning on your husband’s Godsdamned orders. Friends ,” I sneered.
Kenna frowned. “I know how it looks. But they have a long history together, and many duties here. Oaths they must fulfill. I can’t say more, but you should believe me when I tell you that deep down, they do love Rhyan.”
I almost laughed. “Do they? They have a very strange way of showing it,” I said, unable to keep my emotions from causing my voice to shake. “Same with you.”
Kenna stared at me directly now, a kind of blunt openness to her face.
“A lot happened between them that you weren’t here for. I would leave them to work it out on their own.” Kenna finished drinking her water, swallowing almost defiantly before she answered. “As for the rest, we all have a duty to the Imperator. I am limited in what I can and cannot do, just as they are. I have my own people to protect. I will not apologize for it.”
“I don’t recall asking you to.”
“Look, despite the chains my position places around me, I’m trying to tell you that you can trust me.”
“That’s what this is?” I almost laughed.
“Lady Lyriana, I swear to you, my intention is to protect Rhyan. Just as it’s yours. The sooner you realize it, the better for you, and the better for him. You are in the Imperator’s nest now. You need allies. We have the same goals.”
“Really? Where is he now, then?” I asked. “What has your husband done with him?”
Kenna flinched. “He’s in prison. In Ha’Lyrotz . ”
It was where they’d kept him before. My throat tightened. “Has he been seen by a healer?”
The look on Kenna’s face told me all I needed to know.
I bit my lip to keep from crying. If Kane hadn’t been a fucking Guardian, if his touch hadn’t incapacitated me, we might have made it. I’d been so close to the weapons. I would have held a knife to Kenna’s neck until she unbound Rhyan. Then he could have jumped to me as I grabbed our things—and we’d be gone.
I held Kenna’s gaze. “Speak truthfully then if our goals align. Is he okay down there?”
Kenna shook her head. “No. We need to get him out.”
“I don’t suppose you have the key?” I asked sarcastically.
“I did,” she said quietly. “Once.”
“What do you mean, once?” I asked.
She retreated to the chaise, carefully sitting back down, and readjusting her green gown across the swell of her stomach.
“I freed him last time,” she said. “When he was named forsworn after his mother died, I brought the key to his bodyguard. That was partly how he escaped the prison.”
“You freed him?”
She nodded. “I helped. I was already engaged to his father by then, though Rhyan didn’t know it. I didn’t really have a say in that matter.” Her voice hardened. “I used my position as the Imperator’s betrothed to gain access. Soturion Bowen, Rhyan’s old bodyguard, Bar Ka Mokan , did the rest.”
“Bowen died?” I asked, realizing the words she’d spoken. “His soul freed.”
Kenna’s face was grim. “He died helping Rhyan escape.”
I closed my eyes. I had no idea he’d died that way. It was something else Rhyan had never disclosed to me. Though he’d never mentioned Bowen either.
“Does he know what part you played?” I asked Kenna carefully. “Your husband?”
Kenna rested the top of her head against the back of the chaise, and groaned. “Please … can we not refer to him as that?” Then she looked back at me. “And yes, he found out that night when Rhyan was escaping. I was punished accordingly. Probably why he dragged me in there today to do what he did.”
“I thought that was to hurt me.”
“Oh, it was. Rhyan, too. His father loves killing two birds with one stone. Or, in our case, three.” She smiled sadly, looking away.
I was beginning to see what had been obvious from the moment Kenna appeared. Imperator Hart was hurting her just as he’d hurt Rhyan’s mother. It made me want to trust her—and yet—it was also the very reason why I couldn’t.
“Poor Rhyan,” she said. “The look on his face when he couldn’t get to you, couldn’t save you … Being in that room must have been torture for him. That’s where it happened, you know. Where his mother died.” Her lilt had intensified as she spoke, her eyes watering.
My eyes widened. “In the Seating Room?”
Kenna nodded sadly. “In the exact spot you were standing. I was there.” She met my gaze. “I saw what the Imperator did to her.”
Kenna sat forward. “I know you have no reason to trust me. And I understand. Believe me, I do. But I am not your enemy. And I am sorry for what happened to you. The way you were treated by the Imperator, and … by my father.”
“You’re right,” I said. “I have no reason to trust you beyond your word. I want to—but what I don’t understand is why Imperator Hart would leave a potential ally alone with me?”
“He left you alone with someone he expected to hurt you. You’ve met him before, haven’t you? Seen how he works? That’s why he’s trusting me to be here. I was Rhyan’s lover. Remember?” She rolled her eyes. “He hasn’t seen past that, hasn’t seen or considered what else I could be—or the possibility that you could move past it either.”
The fire crackled as a log shifted. I turned around, finishing my glass of water, while trying to breathe. Trying to think. I needed to prepare for what was next. Figure out how to help Meera and Rhyan. How to escape Seathorne. Not only were our lives at stake, but we only had a month to get to Jules. A fucking month to infiltrate the capital. And now Aemon knew where we were going.
What if Kenna hadn’t just been sent to upset me? But to betray me?
I stared out the window, taking in how dark the night’s sky was. Hardly any torches could be seen on the horizon with the snow still falling.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“Nearly seven,” Kenna said.
I’d been unconscious the whole day. Twelve hours. Twelve hours Rhyan had been alone and imprisoned. Twelve hours Meera had been in isolation. And twelve more hours Jules was at the capital and I had no plan to rescue her.
“Imperator Hart has requested dinner with you. He has more questions. I was instructed to help you get dressed for your meeting. He’ll call for you in an hour. Your clothes have been set out. I’ll show you the shower and I can help you into your dress.”
I stiffened.
“The ties,” she said, “are not the ones you’re accustomed to lacing in Bamaria. I’ll help you, if you want me to.”
“I’m not wearing some dress picked out by your fucking husband,” I said. And my discomfort aside, I certainly wasn’t going to be dressed up like a doll by Rhyan’s ex-lover.
“Lady Lyriana,” she said, her voice pleading.
But before I could respond, there was a violent pounding on the door. Kenna froze, her eyes widening. The shift in her aura was palpable. Full of fear and apprehension. It felt like I’d suddenly risen too quickly to an altitude that made it hard to breathe.
“Let me do the talking,” she said quickly, moving protectively in front of me.
The door slammed open, and Kane strolled in, his red Arkturion cloak swishing with each step, his elbows bent, hands fisted. His aura filled the room at once, overtaking any sensation of Kenna’s. It was violent and angry. And powerful. I had no doubt now in my mind of who he was. This was the reincarnation of a God. Of Shiviel. Glemaria’s warlord.
The man who tore open my tunic.
The man whose nose I had broken this morning.
My throat was dry as I studied his cruel face. He’d fully recovered from what I’d done. There was no color under his eyes, no hint of swelling anywhere.
Looking me up and down, one corner of his mouth curled into a lopsided sneer.
“Thought I heard you finally awake,” he grunted.
Kenna nodded to her father, angling her body to keep me behind her as Kane pushed further into Rhyan’s bedroom. “Yes, Father. She just woke up. We’re about to prepare her for dinner with His Highness.”
“You don’t look like you’re preparing,” he said.
“She just needed some water. Are you feeling better?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t have to feel better if this little bitch hadn’t punched me.”
“Father,” Kenna said, “Let’s put that past us.”
“Or maybe I should pay her back,” he said, his voice low. “I promised not to touch her. At least not yet. But Rhyan’s all alone in the dungeons.”
My hands flexed into fists. I’d never before wanted to so violently hurt someone I’d just met. Then again, in some ways, I supposed I’d known him for an eternity.
“I was thinking,” he said, “Rhyan’s nose is already broken. Maybe I should give his right eye a scar to match the left.”
“You will not touch him,” I snarled.
“Or else you’ll do what? Fucking nothing, because you know you’re too weak. One touch from me and you were on the ground. Not even your fancy mage light could save you.”
Fancy mage light? I blinked. The Valalumir. The very thing that had confirmed his true identity. He didn’t know what it was, didn’t know he was a God. And he wouldn’t. That kind of knowledge could be dangerous for him to have. But Imperator Hart—I had a feeling he knew. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was aware, or at least suspected, everyone’s true identity. And all at once, I wondered if his marriage to Kenna was less about hurting Rhyan, and was more of a way to control a reincarnated Guardian.
Kane’s eyes flashed. “Get fucking dressed. His Highness doesn’t want to wait, and you stink of gryphon shit. So, here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to get in that shower, and give yourself a thorough, long scrub. And then you’re going to put on the dress you were told to wear. No complaints.” A slow smile spread across his face. “I have the key to your sister’s room.”
I stopped breathing. My body was numb.
“She’ll be ready,” Kenna said. “Please. Let me help her into the shower. Tell my husband I’ll see him shortly.”
Kane’s eyebrows furrowed, his angular face twisted in agitation before he huffed, and turned around. “One hour.”
The door slammed shut behind him.
I gasped, nearly falling over, my hands slamming into the desk. It was Kenna who caught me, her hand on my back, steadying me.
“It’s all right. Take a deep breath,” Kenna said softly. “Don’t fret for your sister. It’s known all over the fortress she’s here. The whole Empire is going to know soon, remember? He wants everyone to know it. He’s going to hold that over the head of the southern Imperator. No harm will come to her for that reason alone.”
I shook my head, the backs of my eyes burning. “You don’t know that.”
“I do.” She looked away, swallowing hard. “She’s going to be paraded around so the stories can spread.”
I wanted to cry. She’d be kept alive. But that didn’t protect her from the wounds no one could see. The ones concealed by clothing. The ones she’d carry inside.
“Be strong,” Kenna said. “As a guest of Seathorne, she does have some protection.”
“Guest?” My voice shook. “Be honest. Say hostage.”
“The words are interchangeable as far as His Highness is concerned. Now please, I really do want to help you.”
She returned to the table, refilling my glass of water and bringing it to me.
I took it from her, grateful.
“Do you trust me yet?” she asked.
I searched her aura. Nothing felt off about her. She was logical, something I always appreciated. She had pleaded in my favor in the Seating Room, and had protected me from Kane just now.
I shrugged. “I might be starting to. Reluctantly. A little.”
She smiled. “I’ll take ‘reluctantly’ over not at all.”
I shook my head. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Kenna asked.
I could only stare in response. “I’m the disgraced daughter of a murdered Arkasva. I brought Rhyan back to the one place he should have never come. Plus, I’m an enemy of the Glemarian Council. Scorned by two of your closest friends. Clearly despised by not only your husband, but also your own father. And … well, I haven’t exactly been that nice to you.”
“It’s okay. I don’t put much stock in first impressions.” But when I didn’t smile at her joke, she sighed, and said, “I am taking an enormous chance here. I am risking everything by choosing to trust you. But I do. Because there is only one recommendation I need in order to know I’m making the right choice—you have the trust of the one person we have in common.”
“Rhyan.”
Her eyebrows lifted in confirmation. “Drink,” she said.
I did, thirstier than I’d realized. And before I could think, I asked, “Are you in love with him?” I wasn’t worried about them. Or their past. Not for a second. Rhyan was mine, my love, my soulmate. I didn’t doubt that. But if I was going to trust her, I had to know the truth.
“No,” she said. “And I never was. Nor was he ever in love with me. Even when we were … together, he was trying to find his way back to you.” She smiled sadly.
I thought of his confession to me before we’d had sex the first time. How he’d always loved me. How he’d fallen for me years ago. But hearing that Kenna existed, and how recently they’d been together, the smallest of doubts had begun to take shape in my mind. Not about us now, but maybe about how he’d felt before. About the truthfulness of his grand claims.
“He never said the words directly,” Kenna continued, “but when he visited Bamaria all those years ago, I knew something happened.”
My eyes watered thinking back to the night of the Summer Solstice. To our first dance, to holding hands and sneaking into the woods. Leaning back against the suntree, Rhyan’s breath against my lips, the way he softened and was finally vulnerable with me, whispering secrets in the dark.
I want to kiss you. Can I?
“We kissed,” I said, and suddenly my longing for him felt like a crushing weight.
“More than that happened,” Kenna said. “He was different when he came back. He was in love. Did you know that for a year, he wouldn’t even look at another girl?” Kenna shook her head in disapproval. “His friends gave him such shit for that, but I recognized what was going on. Then, a little while later, something else happened. He changed. It was kept quiet, but his father had … well … he’d made it known that he was to resume courting .” Her voice was strained.
I didn’t like the way she said “courting”, like it meant something else here.
“Not long after,” Kenna continued, “my father was in negotiations for a marriage contract between me and the Senator from Hartavia.”
“Hartavia?” My mind began to whirl. “The Senator?” I nearly shouted.
“You know of him?” Kenna asked darkly.
I knew exactly who she was referring to. He was the man who’d molested Rhyan as a boy. He was a fucking monster.
I nodded. “I’ve heard things.”
Kenna bit her lip. “He scared me. And that night … I went to Rhyan. He didn’t know what was going on, just that I needed a friend to talk to, but … one thing led to another, and that ended the negotiations. It wasn’t love between us. I knew going in that I didn’t love him, not like that. His heart was taken.” She nodded to me. “But the relationship we had saved me … for a time. Our fathers liked the prospect of us as a couple, and,” she sighed, “as a political statement. It allowed Rhyan to relax from all the intrigues of Court. He no longer had to face the women his father paraded in front of him. But in the end, we really were just friends—friends who became a lifeline for each other.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. “But you were … ” my chest tightened, “you and him?” I gestured to the bed.
“Yes,” she said bluntly.
I bit my lip.
“Do you know, when he was dreaming, when he thought no one could hear, he’d say your name in his sleep. That’s how I knew it was you still, after all that time.”
Something lifted in my chest. “None of this bothered you?” I asked.
Kenna smiled and shook her head. “I knew his heart, and I never had plans to make a claim on it. We were just …” Her eyes watered then, but she blinked back her tears. “We were just trying to survive Glemaria.”
I knew what the men here were like. I knew how they treated women. The way his father treated his mother—the way Kenna had been treated in front of me already. And I knew far too well how they treated Rhyan. Imperator Hart wanted to hurt me. And he would expect others to do the same. Even if Kenna was meant to get my trust, and betray me, he’d never come up with something like this. Something this selfless, this understanding. It wasn’t in his nature. It made me completely believe her.
“When I last saw him,” she continued, “I made him promise that he’d find the love he was always looking for. You. I’m glad he did. I risked a lot to save him that night. Because I wanted better for him.” She looked away, something in her aura shifting, then calmed. “He needed to be freed. For Glemaria. And so … here we are.”
I swallowed roughly, starting to like Kenna despite myself. “I believe you. And, I want to trust you.”
“Well, whether you trust me or not, we’re out of time. Let’s start by getting ready,” she said.
“I …” She’d been honest with me. “I’ll accept your help getting dressed. But you should know something. I find it … difficult for people to touch my clothing. I need …” I bit my lip, “I need to know what you’re doing. I need to know you’re not going to rip or take anything off … not that I think you would, but … I just,” my cheeks heated, “I need it all the same.”
Kenna tilted her head to the side, her eyes softening. “You have my word. I’ll show you to the shower. Then I promise, I will only be adding clothing to your person. I’ll keep you informed of what I’m doing as best I can so you’re comfortable.” Her mouth tightened. “But, if you are not dressed properly for dinner within an hour, I cannot promise that Rhyan will not pay for the insolence. And I will not allow him to be hurt any more than he is. Are we understood?”
I looked Kenna up and down, feeling the weight of her question. It wasn’t about getting dressed—but if we were going to be allies. I nodded.
“We’re understood,” I said, and stepped forward, taking her hand in mine. “Help me.”