CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
LYRIANA
Rhyan’s eyes met mine, green and wide, and horrified. For a moment, they softened, the way they always did when he looked at me. Filling with his love and his warmth.
And then just as quickly, as if he remembered his role, the game we had to play, he looked ahead at the Court—at the people who’d turned on him, who’d betrayed him and stood behind the lies of their Imperator.
I hated all of them at that moment. Hated how easily they were swayed, how gullible they proved themselves to be. And how fickle. The sound of the nobles cheering for Rhyan—the son they’d turned their backs on—was grating to my ears. As was the sound of their cries. I’d never heard anything so fake. So performative. None of them had believed in him, or stood by him. They didn’t deserve him. And they deserved none of my pity.
“I am thrilled to welcome Rhyan home to our academy as a decorated soturion, and back to Court. Of course, as the child of a vorakh, he will never be Heir Apparent. That title remains with my unborn son.”
On cue, Kenna grinned widely and stepped forward, proudly showing off her belly. She turned to each side, letting everyone bask in the swell.
“Speaking of continuing my bloodline,” Imperator Hart laughed, his eyes dancing with mischief, “Now that Lord Rhyan is home, and a Glemarian once more, perhaps it’s time for him to feel the weight of responsibility. To not only carry his part in this, but to shoot his load.”
There was a roar of laughter by the men in the room that left me uneasy. The laughs all felt edged with an undertone of violence. Despite Imperator Hart’s orders, despite the sharp pain in my temples, I couldn’t help but look at Rhyan, at the tightness in his mouth, the muscles of his jaw working.
“It is time for Lord Rhyan to marry,” his father announced.
It felt like someone had knocked the wind out of me. I knew this was coming. Knew it had to happen, knew we both had to play the game. It wasn’t real. None of this was. And yet …
“I am pleased to announce his betrothal. And, who better, and more fitting to wed the Heir to the Arkasva and Imperator, than the beautiful, and intelligent, niece of our own Senator Oryyan.”
I blinked, not recognizing the name.
But Kenna frowned and Rhyan’s body was somehow both violent and still. His skin paled. I braced myself for the impact of his aura … but felt nothing. Not just nothing, but the complete and total absence of it, a feeling that usually only came when he was bound. The smallest glimpse of his eyes showed me they were empty.
He’d turned his emotions off. Something he’d told me he used to do to survive his father’s wrath. Even after he escaped Glemaria and entered exile, he hadn’t been able to turn them back on. When he finally had, at first it had only been grief. Then slowly desire. Only with me recently had he been able to begin to feel more, to open up all of his emotions again, to feel love and joy. It killed me to know I’d asked him to do this, that the only way he could get through this was to shut down again.
“Lady Amalthea Oryyan,” Imperator Hart said. “Please, join your new Ka, and stand with your groom.”
Lady Amalthea had long dark curls with a reddish tint beneath the flames, and she was looking Rhyan up and down with greedy, knowing eyes that had me itching to break another nose. Her dress, Glemarian green of course, looked like it was two sizes too small for her breasts. Her chest puffed out, and there was a look in her eyes that reminded me of Naria.
My gut twisted with a vile feeling, and a sense of distrust, the complete opposite of how I’d felt when I met Kenna. But Amalthea? I wanted to come between her and Rhyan, to push her away.
Control what they see, and you control what they think .
I had to stay calm. Remember she meant nothing in this game. Just some noble his father had picked.
But then Rhyan’s fingers curled, and he scratched the palm of his hand.
My heart stopped.
There were very few times he did that—only in his moments of complete distress. The habit had started when he was a boy and the Senator from Hartavia had arranged to get him alone, took his hand, and tried to—
Lady Amalthea placed a silver ring on Rhyan’s finger—a ring I assumed had the sigil of Ka Oryyan emblazoned on it.
And then Rhyan slid her ring on, a golden band decorated with silver gryphon wings and the sun.
My chest tightened. And all I could think was mine. Mine! My love. My ring. My … Rakame.
“ Tovayah maischa !” shouted a noble, his fist in the air. There was a deafening round of applause, followed by more shouts. They were shouting for them to kiss.
By the Godsdamned fucking Gods! No. No. Fucking no.
Rhyan took Amalthea’s hand.
I couldn’t breathe. My skin was crawling. I could barely imagine Rhyan kissing someone else. If I had to see it happen now—if I had to be in the same room when it happened …
“Kiss her!” The shouts grew louder now, more demanding.
“Kiss your bride!”
Rhyan’s hand tightened around Amalthea’s, and he looked at her with adoring eyes. He leaned in. There were spots in my vision. I was going to be sick. I was actually going to be sick. I could feel it, feel the bile rising up the back of my throat.
Then Rhyan turned his head. His green eyes blazing as they found mine, searing into me. Holding me. He kissed Amalthea on the cheek, never removing his gaze, never breaking our connection.
I swallowed, wincing, and Kenna squeezed my hand. “Stay calm,” she whispered. “Just breathe. You’re next.”
“You tease,” Imperator Hart yelled jovially. “A kiss on the cheek? We know you’re capable of far more than that.”
“He certainly is!” someone yelled from the back. They laughed bawdily, the nobles nearby joining in.
The demands for a proper kiss grew louder, and Imperator Hart’s eyes fell on me. He lifted his eyebrows, his lips puckered, clearly asking me if they should kiss. I stared back, my expression blank.
Then his entire face changed—full of the cruelty I knew lived and breathed inside him.
I couldn’t look any longer. I turned away.
“All right, you’ve had your fun,” Imperator Hart yelled. “Save your excitement. You’ll see the kiss, and maybe more,” he waggled his eyebrows, “on their wedding night. We do have the bedding ceremony to look forward to after all.” The room exploded with laughter and cheers, until the Imperator yelled, “Right now, I have even more happy news to share with you.” His eyes narrowed, offering me a crooked smile. “You must be wondering why Lady Lyriana has been given the honor of standing with us. I shall tell you. She approached me in private, expressing her desire to continue her studies. She has no power, she is weak—but she greatly admires the strength of the Glemarian soturi.” He paused, allowing for more applause.
“Of course, Lady Lyriana’s request was not for me to fulfill. I am only the Imperator,” he chuckled. “I asked Arkturion Kane to meet her.” A grin slowly spread across his face, his teeth white against his dark beard. “And by the end of the meeting, our Arkturion’s impeccable training was not the only thing making an impression on Lady Lyriana.” He waggled his eyebrows again, and even shook his hips.
“For years, our great warlord Arkturion Kane has lived as a bachelor!” Imperator Hart laughed, and the rest of the room joined in, as if Kane’s singleness had been some bawdy joke told regularly over drinks. “But today, it is my pleasure to announce their engagement as well!”
I squeezed my eyes, blinking back tears.
Kane appeared, and all at once I was struck again by his appearance. The fact that he was all sharp angles and muscle. Every movement was cruel and harsh as he approached.
And his aura—I could feel its violence. And something else. Something deep, something ancient. Something that called out to the part of my soul that was still Asherah.
He stepped onto the dais and heat crawled across my skin. There were too many people on the stage. Everyone was too close. It was all too much.
He hugged his daughter and kissed both of her cheeks. Kenna went completely still, the way an animal might when noticed by a predator. Then he took my hand and leaned in, his face inches from mine. My stomach churned. His breath was disgusting and hot against my lips as he exhaled heavily. He smelled like meat drowned in stale beer.
“My bride,” he growled.
“Do not kiss me,” I hissed, unable to stop myself. “Or I swear I’ll break another bone.”
“Threaten me,” Kane said, his voice dangerously low. “And I swear come sundown, I’ll start with your sister—and when I’m covered in her, I’ll get you next.”
I seethed, breathing through my teeth, trying not to take in his scent, trying not to show my fear.
“I’m not interested in kissing , anyway . ” He smirked. “I have other plans for your foul mouth.” He tugged me violently to him.
Rhyan turned to his father at once, a grave expression on his face, one I couldn’t read. He looked almost like a different person for a second. Like someone I’d known for a thousand lifetimes. Like a God.
Auriel. I could see it. See the hint of the immortal Guardian he once was—my vision flashing. But more importantly, I could see the threat in Rhyan’s eyes. Not a warning, but a promise he was prepared to make good on.
Suddenly, his father’s aura exploded. A hurricane-like force blew across the dais.
Against my will, my grip on Kane’s hand tightened to keep me from falling over. Kenna cried out, stumbling back, while Amalthea took the moment to wrap herself around Rhyan. Nobles began to shout, and many in their seats were frantically adjusting their tunics and dresses, fixing their hair which was in disarray.
“My apologies,” Imperator Hart said, his smile anything but apologetic. “I am overcome with excitement to see my son find his perfect match. And for Lady Lyriana to find a union with my closest friend.” His eyebrows formed a deep V. “She looks good as a Glemarian, doesn’t she? And now, she will be my wife’s stepmother, and she will serve as step-grandmother to my son.”
By the Gods. He was farther than fucking Lethea.
Suddenly Kane’s huge hand was wrapped around mine, his fingers digging into my skin. I was dragged to the center of the dais, and placed beside Rhyan. I trembled, not daring to look at him, knowing I’d crumble if our eyes met. His arm brushed against mine, and a shiver raced down my arm. I could feel his touch in every part of my body.
Imperator Hart produced two rings, one silver and one gold. I wasn’t sure how he’d gotten a golden ring with Ka Batavia’s sigil. Maybe he’d always had it, had always been prepared for the culmination of his years of scheming. Prepared all those years ago when my mother visited, when I was still a baby. He dropped it into my palm, and a silver ring was dropped into Kane’s.
The Arkturion turned me toward him, one hand steadying my elbow as he shoved the ring painfully onto my finger. There were silver gryphon wings, engulfed in flames. The sigil of Ka Gadayyan. I placed the golden ring into his hand. I didn’t have it in me to slide it onto his finger. His hand closed around the metal, the nail on his pinky scratching me.
And it was done.
We were engaged, and my engagement to Viktor and all of Ka Kormac was over.
The nobles cheered and clapped as they yelled congratulations, and demands for us to kiss.
It was at that moment when Rhyan’s aura returned. A cocoon of cold air wrapped around my body. He released Amalthea’s hand, and took a step toward me.
I could see it, see it all play out, as clearly as my own plan to escape had been in my mind. He’d jump to me, free me, and take me away.
He could do it. I knew he could. We’d be gone before anyone blinked. But there were too many guards seated before us. He’d never reach Meera in time.
And we’d never get to Jules, never beat Morgana and Aemon to the orange shard.
The soturion beside Meera seemed to sense Rhyan’s shift, alerted to the subtle threat Rhyan posed. The soldier lifted the blade to her neck, keeping it carefully concealed beneath her ash-brown hair. But I saw. He turned the blade, letting the steel catch the torchlight. His eyes met mine.
I shook my head, my eyes pleading with him to stop.
Rhyan tracked the knife, his jaw tightening as his eyes met mine again. His face fell as he stepped back into place, his aura retreating as he took Amalthea’s hand back in his.
Meera’s eyes widened, sensing the danger. She turned suddenly to the soturion, her eyes almost glowing. He relaxed, pulling the blade back ever so slightly.
“Now,” Imperator Hart said. “We have a busy few weeks ahead. We’ll be preparing to attend the Valabellum in Numeria. Planning two weddings. But we shall have an exciting time together as our newly betrothed couples celebrate their engagement across the country.”
My heart sank. Of course. Of course, he was going to parade us non-stop, force us into our roles every chance he had. Show off so word reached Imperator Kormac that he’d lost, that Imperator Hart had me. Owned me.
With a clap, servants entered the Seating Room floating trays of wine glasses which were quickly handed out.
“Arkturion,” his father said quietly, “might I have a word with your bride?”
“Of course, Your Highness.” Kane stepped aside, leaving me alone with Imperator Hart.
“Next time we are before the Court,” he said, taking my hand and squeezing, “You will kiss him, and more than that if I desire it. You will do whatever I order you to do. I went easy on you today. On you both. But you signed a contract. Are we understood?”
My nostrils flared, as I glared in response. I would not kiss Kane. I would not do anything of the sort.
But just thinking the thought became difficult. My blood heated as if in response to Imperator Hart. And despite me being fully aware it was the contract, and not what I wanted, a part of me began desperately to want to agree.
From the corner of my eye, I felt Rhyan watching us.
Imperator Hart leered even closer, and I could no longer resist. I had to agree to his terms, agree to whatever he asked.
“Understood,” I said.
His lips curled. “Then drink.”