Chapter 13
Amryn
“You?” Carver asked.
Amryn could feel the banked storm of emotions that churned inside him. Shock and denial were there, but the strongest was fear.
She couldn’t blame him. Her brother was the sort of empath the emperor, the knights, and the church all prayed they’d eradicated.
“My mother often told me that Tiras didn’t truly understand emotions, because he could so easily manipulate them,” Amryn explained.
“Emotions meant little to him when they could be so easily banished or changed. But despite that, he cared for me, in his own way. My mother said that, in many ways, I was his tether to humanity. She believed that as long as Tiras cared about me, he wouldn’t cross lines that shouldn’t be crossed—at least where I was concerned. ”
“Do you think that remains true?”
She huffed a weak breath. “I don’t know.
I haven’t seen him since I was seven years old.
” She had no idea who he was now. She didn’t even know where he was.
He could have gone anywhere all those years ago.
She once again wondered if he might have joined the Rising.
He’d despised the empire and the church for making him hide his abilities, but it was hard to imagine him joining the rebellion.
He’d always been remote. And she didn’t think he’d handle taking orders very well.
Carver cleared his throat. The sudden wariness he felt made her tense. “Our last night in Esperance, when you told me about Tiras and your father . . .”
Her fingernails dug into her palms. Saints, she didn’t want to talk about her father.
Carver’s voice was gentle as he continued. “Since they’re both presumably still alive and they know your secret—”
A sharp rap on the door made Amryn jolt.
Carver stood, his hand going to the dagger sheathed at his hip. He crossed to the door and unlocked it, and by the time he’d pulled it open, Amryn had pushed to her feet as well.
An unfamiliar guard stood in the doorway, his breaths coming too fast. “General Vincetti,” he panted. “The emperor asks that you come at once.”
Tension flooded Carver, and Amryn felt her own dread rise.
“Why?” Carver demanded. “What’s happened?”
The guard paled. “It’s Princess Jayveh, sir. Someone just tried to kill her.”
“I’m fine,” Jayveh insisted for the third time since Amryn and Carver had arrived in her suite.
Amryn knew without being told that it was Argent’s apartment.
It was obvious in the masculine design of the furniture, in the books on philosophy, war, and government that packed the shelf in the corner—along with what looked like some well-worn fantasy stories—and the collection of daggers arranged artfully on the wall.
She could almost feel Argent in this room, almost see the charming flash of his smile.
The pain of his loss hit her all over again, and she squeezed Jayveh’s hand.
Amryn sat on the edge of the bed with the princess, while Carver crouched in front of her.
His gaze was intent on Jayveh’s face, and Amryn was once again surprised at the level of his apparent calm.
Even though anger, fear, anxiety—even a degree of self-recrimination, perhaps for not being here when she was under threat—lurked below the surface, his voice and expression remained smooth as he said, “Tell me exactly what happened.”
Jayveh’s exhaustion was almost painful, and Amryn couldn’t resist putting an arm around her shoulders.
The princess’s slim hands were held protectively against the subtle curve of her belly.
Amryn felt the spark of life inside. The soft male presence somehow felt both vulnerable and strong.
He’d already fought so hard for life, even before he was born.
Jayveh glanced at the emperor, who sat in a nearby chair. His grief and fury were potent, even if his body was slumped with age and fatigue. Amryn didn’t think he’d chosen to sit; he looked like a man who would have fallen if a chair hadn’t been found for him.
Jayveh’s eyes softened. Ignoring Carver, she spoke gently to the emperor. “Your Eminence, please, you must retire. I’m perfectly fine, and you need rest before the meeting tomorrow. I’ll give Carver all the details, but there’s no need for you to hear everything again.”
For a moment, Amryn didn’t think the emperor would heed her. But then he nodded, and one of his bodyguards assisted him to his feet. His eyes went to Carver, who straightened. “Thank you for coming so quickly,” the emperor said softly. “She only wanted you.”
Carver bowed his head. “I’ll make sure every protection is in place, Your Eminence.”
The emperor’s throat bobbed, and Amryn swore she saw a sheen of tears in his eyes before he shuffled from the room, his guards surrounding him.
When the door closed, it was only the three of them left in the room.
Jayveh’s lips trembled, even though she pressed them together.
Amryn’s heart ached for her friend.
Carver dragged a chair over and positioned it in front of Jayveh. He sat, his face full of compassion as he said, “I’m so sorry this happened to you, Jayveh.”
Cracks appeared in the princess’s calm, but she didn’t break. Amryn was beginning to think nothing could break her. Except maybe losing Argent, which was why she clung so fiercely to the belief that he was still alive.
“He was already in the room before I arrived,” Jayveh said.
“He must have been. He was lying under the bed for hours before my maids left. He was waiting for me to fall asleep.” She blinked quickly, forcing back tears that were barely obvious in her voice as she said, “We were both lying in the dark room, and I didn’t know it. How did I not hear him breathing?”
Carver settled a hand on her knee, stilling the slight tremor that ran through her body. “Good assassins train well. You couldn’t have known.”
Jayveh’s jaw tightened. “He must have thought I’d fallen asleep. I’d been crying, but when I stopped . . . That’s when he slid out from under the bed. He moved silently, but I saw him rise.”
Her flood of terror was wholly understandable, as was the intense rush of violation that came from such an attack. Amryn felt it all, making her own palms dampen with sweat, her pulse suddenly too loud in her ears.
Jayveh glanced down at her hand, and for the first time Amryn noticed the smeared droplets of blood on her dark skin. “I’ve been sleeping with a dagger ever since Argent was taken.”
“Did the assassin say anything?” Carver asked.
“No. He just lifted his knife. Instead of rolling away from him, I rolled toward him. I must have surprised him because he didn’t even try to fight me. I shoved my blade in his gut. I didn’t hesitate.” Her hand pressed more firmly against her abdomen. “I just reacted.”
“You did well,” Carver assured her.
Jayveh shook her head. “He slit his own throat before my screams could bring the guards in. We didn’t get to question him.”
“It’s all right,” he said, obviously trying to soothe her. “We can learn about him through his clothing, his weapons—we’ll find whoever hired him.”
“Could it be the same person who hired the mercenaries that ambushed us on the road?” Amryn asked.
“It’s a possibility.” Carver frowned. “But the attack on the road was about all the Chosen, while this strike was targeted.”
“Someone wants me dead,” Jayveh stated. The skin around her eyes tightened. “Or my baby.”
“Hardly anyone knows about your pregnancy,” Carver pointed out. “It’s much more likely the assassin was trying to kill you.”
“Or Argent,” Jayveh said. “If they thought he’d be in here with me, he could have been the planned target.”
“It’s possible,” Carver allowed. “But whoever hired this assassin must have known we were coming. It’s the only way they could have made the arrangements so quickly.”
“But, the emperor would have only shared that knowledge with people he trusted,” Jayveh said slowly.
Carver’s expression was grim. “I know.”
There was a short silence, into which Amryn whispered, “Could it have been Trevill?”
Jayveh frowned. “He’s in prison.”
“Yes, but what if he wasn’t working alone in Esperance?” Amryn asked. She glanced at Carver. “If he had an accomplice who also wanted Esperance to fail, maybe they’re here at the palace. Trevill might have sent word that we’d be coming, before he was arrested.”
“But Trevill already got what he wanted,” Jayveh said. “Esperance did fail.”
“He didn’t get everything he wanted,” Carver said, his voice low and hard.
“Creating chaos at the temple and killing enough of the Chosen to ruin the emperor’s plan was only the first step.
If he truly wanted the Craethen Council disbanded, what would have stopped him from continuing to strike against us?
” His dark brows slashed down, and he cursed.
“Maybe he’s the one who hired the mercenaries who attacked us on the road. ”
Jayveh tensed. “If he does have a partner here in the capital—or multiple partners—they’ll probably be after the same thing. Which means none of us are safe.”
A chill ghosted down Amryn’s spine.
“This is all speculation,” Carver said. “It’s possible someone else was targeting you specifically.”
“Will you question Trevill?” Jayveh asked.
His eyes darted to Amryn, and she knew he was remembering the promise he’d made her.
That tomorrow would be their last day in Zagrev.
But she knew he couldn’t deny Jayveh this.
And Amryn didn’t want him to. The thought of leaving when Jayveh was in danger made her stomach churn.
If this assassin had been sent by Trevill, or an ally of his, they needed to know.
“Yes,” Carver said to Jayveh. His expression hardened. “And I’ll speak with the emperor and get a list of anyone he told about our arrival.”