Chapter 65
AIMILIA
Everything was a haze to Aimilia. She faded in and out. The only thing that was clear was the ache.
The only thing she remembered was darkness and vitae and pain. There were moments where she would blink and light would blind her. Voices echoed around her. She didn’t know what was real and what were her dreams.
Had Nikias really been there after the fight? Or was she just still so pathetic and lonely that she wished he was, even if it was just an act?
She didn’t want him. At least she didn’t want to still want him. Why couldn’t she just get it through her thick skull that the one she wanted didn’t exist?
How many times did she have to narrowly escape his trap before she’d finally learn the lesson? Aimilia still tasted dirt in her mouth. It was like she was forever being dragged across the rocks by Cyprian.
Until finally she blinked open her eyes against the blinding light, but instead of crashing back down, she kept blinking until her vision cleared. Aches coursed through her, but they weren’t quite as debilitating as before.
“—what do you mean—still asleep? Let me—”
That voice. Aimilia knew it. Years she’d spent infuriated every time she heard it, but now it was carved into her bones.
Nikias.
“—just so—travel—healer—wake up in time—not to mention—scandal—bad enough—you understand.”
“—you’re the reason—I could have you—”
“—personal, Your Highness. I—do what’s best for Mitis—best for—one—distasteful, I understand—no pleasure—necessary—according to plan.”
Plan?
What plan were Cyprian and Nikias talking about?
Oh, what was she thinking?
She was still groggy as she woke up, that was her only excuse.
Clearly none of that had been accidental.
If Aimilia had won, it had been Nikias’ plan that Cyprian would challenge her and Nikias would offer to be her champion.
No matter what she chose, they both still won and she lost. Well, Aimilia wouldn’t stand for it.
But her limbs were so heavy, and something was wrapped around her good wrist. She shifted it. Metal?
There was a strange, muffled feeling. Aimilia knew it well. She was in a limiter cuff. Aimilia’s head was pounding. She was on a bed. Were they in Areator?
No wonder she felt so awful if she’d been in a magically induced coma for the over-a-month-long trip from Mitis to Areator. Then there was the sound of a door shutting.
Aimilia opened her eyes. Unfortunately, she wasn’t alone.
Cyprian stood leaning against the door.
Aimilia jerked her wrist, but didn’t get far. The chain jerked, and she recoiled. She was chained to her bed.
Aimilia opened her mouth, ready to let out a string of dark curses, but it felt like a hand tightened around her throat.
Nothing came out. She’d been silenced. Her hands flew up to her throat; the chain was just long enough to allow for that.
She choked and gasped as she couldn’t even feel the rune on her silencing her, thanks to the limiter cuffs.
Cyprian, dressed in a black chiton and cloak, watched as she sat up and held her throat. He pushed off the door and walked across the room, eyeing her warily.
He said, “I hope you feel well rested.”
Aimilia kicked at the blankets covering her until they fell to her legs. She rattled the chains she was in and glared at him.
Was he really just going to talk at her?
Aimilia glanced around. She was back in her room in Areator.
He just glanced at the rune lighting up on her neck and said, “I’ll take that as a yes. I must admit, it’s been a rather wonderful last few weeks, aside from the fact that the king is dead.”
King Nero was dead?
Aimilia’s stomach turned in the long, simmering silence. It had been so easy the last few months to get caught up in everything and forget about Nero when he was no longer a looming presence over her head. But now…
Nero was dead.
And she was the one responsible.
Aimilia jostled the chains, unable to express anything silenced and chained up.
He said, “See, I would take those off and give you your voice back, but I rather like not having you interrupt me. So, as the Head of House Mitis, I’m going to leave them on a little bit longer.”
Aimilia let out a sharp, hissing breath, the only noise she could make as she pulled at the chains again. The metal started to rub her skin raw, and her bad arm still ached with the lingering bit of recovery left.
Cyprian clasped his hands behind his back as he came to a stop at the foot of Aimilia’s bed. “How about a compromise then? I’ll let you get up if you agree to behave.”
Aimilia supposed it would be better than being completely stuck.
She gave him a terse nod. Besides, they both knew after weeks of being in a magically induced coma, Aimilia wasn’t in any state to physically fight him off.
It was going to take her time to regain her physical strength after so thorough a beating and so long of being unable to move at all.
How badly had her muscles atrophied?
Cyprian walked over and unclasped the cuffs from the chains. The limiter cuff stayed on. Aimilia had suspected as much.
Still, Cyprian backed away, and Aimilia swung her legs off the bed, grabbing hold of one of the posts and using it to pull herself to her feet.
Her legs immediately buckled and she sat back down and leaned against the post instead, glaring at Cyprian and hating the humiliating heat flooding her cheeks at such obvious weakness.
He looked her over, and Aimilia glanced down to see she was in a plain black chiton as well.
Apparently she’d been dressed for mourning at some point, likely by her mother.
Where was she?
Cyprian said, “I’ll take that as a good sign as well. I suppose you’d rather I get straight to business.”
Aimilia kept leaning against the post as Cyprian moved toward her desk.
Cyprian looked over his shoulder and said, “Just to cover our bases, I won my challenge against you and now I’m Head of House Mitis.
We received the news of King Nero’s passing right after I won.
Prince Nikias and Queen Clelia rode ahead, but we weren’t far behind, us and the other commanders and nobles summoned for the funeral. ”
Aimilia nodded slowly, her stomach sinking. She knew exactly where this was going. She just wished he would get on with it.
“King Nero’s funeral is tomorrow. Now, let me be clear about what exactly is going to happen next.
” Cyprian reached the desk, walking around the other side.
Two little metal pieces glinted in the sunlight.
One had Aimilia’s name, the other Nikias’.
Cyprian grabbed the necklace with Nikias’ name engraved on it and said, “The next time you see Prince Nikias will be at the funeral. When you do, you are going to throw yourself at his feet and beg for his forgiveness and tell him you will marry him.”
Aimilia pressed her back against the post, crossed her arms, and shook her head. Every movement was exhausting.
Cyprian’s scowl deepened. “You’re misunderstanding. You don’t have a choice. You will leave this room with his name around your neck and you will marry him and become queen.”
Aimilia shook her head again. Cyprian dropped the necklace. “What exactly makes you think you get to refuse now?”
Aimilia gestured to the rune on her neck and then waved her hand idly. Cyprian abandoned the desk and stormed up to her. He grabbed her neck and banished the rune. Aimilia coughed and choked, grabbing onto the post so she didn’t topple off the bed.
Cyprian pulled back and said, “Give me an answer.”
Aimilia’s voice was dry, rough, and rasping as she said, “I will not.”
Cyprian grabbed her chiton and pulled her forward, forcing her to let go of the post. “You don’t have a choice.”
Aimilia lifted her chin and stared at him and said, “Yes, I do. I refuse. Disown me. Send me into exile. I will do that before I marry him.”
Cyprian jerked her forward, and she grabbed onto his arm to keep herself from falling as he dragged her toward the desk.
He flung her forward, and she barely caught herself on the desk instead of the ground.
He circled it again and said, “I’m afraid that’s not an option for you anymore. Now that I’m the Head of House Mitis.”
Aimilia held herself up on the desk, palm splayed out as she said, “You might be Head of House Mitis, but that doesn’t mean you control me. All you can do is disown me.”
Cyprian glanced at the window that looked over Areator, the streets littered with dark clothes.
She said, “You have no more power over me than my grandfather did.”
Cyprian said, “You’re not nearly as smart as everyone likes to give you credit for. Aimilia, you will marry Prince Nikias, or you will be arrested and executed for treason and regicide.”
Blood rushed through Aimilia’s ears. What—What was he talking about?
He had to be bluffing.
She couldn’t confirm his suspicions. Maybe there was still a way she could talk her way out of this—
Cyprian turned around and gave her a cold grin.
“Don’t bother denying it. I know you were the one who poisoned the king last year and ensured Prince Nikias was regent when he went to negotiate with the Sordes.
Did you really think no one from your own house would recognize the symptoms?
Not to mention your proximity to the royal family, and your closeness with both princes.
Honestly, it’s amazing no one else has figured it out. You got lucky, until now.”
Aimilia shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You can make the accusation all you want, but you have no proof.”
Cyprian laughed. “Do you think the royal family is going to care about proof the day after they put the king in the ground?”
Aimilia said, “I’m still a Runai. I’m still a commander, so I’m entitled to a fair trial. They will have to prove it was me.”
Cyprian reached into his pocket and held up a little pouch. “Well, then it’s a good thing I can show them exactly how you did it.”