CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Two hours later, I sit with Neris in the common room. The others have left to mourn Lucius in private. I still don’t have my voice back, but there’s little to say.
“Rorrik silenced you,” she murmurs.
I nod, and she heaves a sigh. “You went a little crazy, Arvelle. If you’d let those screams loose in front of the emperor, you would have died immediately after Lucius.”
I just look at her.
“We’re used to the emperor’s brutality. You’re not.
It’s understandable, and if I were you, I would have reacted the exact same fucking way.
But if you’re going to stay alive in this place, you need to learn to not let it touch you.
At least not where people can see. Here.
” Leaning over, she touches my throat, her sigil glowing.
The invisible weight around my throat loosens. “Thanks.”
She just nods. “You saved a lot of lives with that shield today. We were taken by surprise. None of us expected the vampire to be so willing to die.”
“What do you mean? You and Micah both had your shields raised.”
“The aether in the grenade tore through my shield immediately. What you could see were the remnants of it. Micah’s shield was almost gone when yours appeared, bolstering it and keeping us all alive.”
A griffon shield. Something else Antigrus somehow gave me. I need to learn how and why he gave it to me, but most importantly, I need to learn how to control it.
“I don’t understand these vampires. They truly believe sigilmarked could give them back the sun?”
Neris lowers her voice. “I’ve heard of a few of the sigilkeepers providing members of the Vampire Council with temporary access to the sun.
One day to enjoy its warmth before the effects fade.
Of course, the members of the Vampire Council are forced to pay for that day of freedom by voting in alignment with the sigilmarked.
And of course, they always go back, asking for just one more day. ”
I can imagine just how much the vampires loathe that. To be so favored by the emperor, with so much power at their fingertips, but forced to hand over that power to their enemies in exchange for the sun’s warmth.
“The Vampire Council has been very careful to keep those kinds of activities private, but a few months ago, someone leaked the information to some of the more powerful vampires in this city. The vampires learned that the leaders who represent them are not only enjoying occasional access to the sun but are also voting against vampires’ best interests in order to do so. ”
I wince. “No wonder the vampires are angry. I just … I don’t understand. The Vampire Council could fully publicize the information. They could find a way to work with the sigilmarked so all the vampires could walk beneath the sun.”
Neris shrugs. “The Vampire Council may represent vampires, but expecting them to truly work for their best interests is naive. Do you think the sigilkeepers are truly fighting for us?”
My stomach sinks. Tiberius Cotta was. He was the only one I truly knew was making a difference. And I killed him.
When I don’t reply, Neris’s shoulders hunch.
“One of my worst realizations was how many people will—without a second thought—trade other people’s freedoms for their own minor comforts.
I hate that vampire who escaped today. I hate that we lost Lucius because of him.
And yet … I don’t blame the vampires for being angry.
It’s … it’s hard to believe things are ever going to get better here.
For anyone.” She pulls her legs up, wrapping her arms around them.
In this moment she looks strangely fragile, almost vulnerable.
It’s something I never could have imagined seeing from her.
We sit in silence for a long time, until tears begin to roll down her cheeks.
I know Neris well enough to know she’d prefer I don’t draw attention to it. I let her keep her pride, grimly focusing my attention on my favorite knife—the one Kassia gave me—which suddenly desperately needs a clean.
By the time I’ve moved on to my last throwing knife, Neris is wiping her cheeks.
“You probably think I’m weak.”
“No.”
She raises a brow and I realize my voice was sharper than I intended.
I sigh. “It takes strength to mourn. It’s …
it’s easier to wrap yourself in numb apathy and refuse to think of the people you’ve lost, but that does them a disservice.
The pain doesn’t go away, it just lingers, waiting until you have no choice but to acknowledge it.
But by then, it’s grown teeth and claws.
And it will shred your entire life apart if you let it. ”
Neris stares at me.
I offer her a grim smile. “Ask me how I know.”
She lets out a watery laugh, wiping at another tear.
“The emperor does this all the time, you know. Makes the brothers turn on each other. Rorrik did Tiernon a favor by killing Lucius. He knew Ti wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he was forced to kill one of his own imperiums. But now, every time Tiernon thinks of Lucius, he’ll remember Rorrik killing him.
One day, Tiernon will make Rorrik pay for it.
Even though he was the one ordered to kill him.
Tiernon will take something important from him.
Rorrik will retaliate. And so it will go on and on and on. ”
Rorrik killed Lucius for Tiernon? The thought seems ludicrous.
Allow me, Father. You know I enjoy such things.
Look away, Arvelle.
Neris clears her throat. “Tiernon … Tiernon was supposed to kill Cargyn as well. He was caught spying and passing information on to the same vampires who tried to kill the emperor today.”
I shake my head in an attempt to clear my confusion.
The first time I saw Rorrik, he was committing murder—and enjoying it. And Neris is saying that was supposed to be Tiernon?
When we were younger, Tiernon would occasionally talk about his brother in a way that made me think they were friends. But as he grew up, he spoke of him less and less, until it was easy to forget he even had a family.
I blow out a long breath. Rorrik is vicious and ruthless.
He’s morally reprehensible and only interested in his own goals—whatever they are.
But … he knows Tiernon well enough to understand how he would suffer if forced to kill his own people.
And for reasons I don’t think I’ll ever understand, he spared him that.
“What happened between them?” I ask.
“Believe it or not, when they were children, Rorrik was overprotective of his brother.”
I remember that much. Often, Tiernon would roll his eyes, his mouth curving as he relayed some decree his brother had made. It was only as they grew that Tiernon stopped mentioning him at all, his eyes strained whenever I asked about his family.
Neris shrugs, pulling her knees closer. “I guess their relationship had no chance once the emperor began using them against each other. I was a child in the court, too—my father is one of the emperor’s generals.
But I remember how the emperor twisted his sons until they could barely be in the same room together.
When Tiernon finally returned from the front lines, it became even worse. ”
“Because then he became Primus.”
Neris sighs. “Tiernon never wanted to become Primus. He doesn’t want to lead. He shoulders the blame for all our failures, taking the emperor’s punishments in our places. He’ll never understand how much it hurts us to see how he suffers for us.”
“Except today, the emperor punished Lucius instead.”
“Killing Lucius was still a punishment for Tiernon. It’s the emperor’s favorite way to keep his sons in line. Don’t ever let the emperor see that Tiernon truly cares for you, Arvelle. If you do, you’ll be the punishment the next time Tiernon infuriates his father.”
Something itches at the edge of my mind. And a strange sensation crashes over me.
I would be his punishment. If Tiernon was forced to watch me die … the guilt would ruin him. He would never recover.
“Neris.” Tiernon’s voice is dark and filled with warning as he stands in the doorway, his words biting into the air. “Tell the others if they ever attempt to sacrifice for me the way Lucius did today, I will make them regret it.”
Neris shakes her head. See, she mouths at me as Tiernon turns and stalks away.
I’m up and moving instantly, following him toward his rooms.
Something about the hopelessness in his eyes makes me unable to let him grieve alone. When I look at him, I don’t see the Primus. All I see is the boy who wrapped his arms around me too many times to count, selflessly offering the kind of love and support I’d never known before.
Tiernon glances over his shoulder. “Not now, Arvelle. I’m tired. Leave me alone.”
He’s not tired. He’s grief-stricken. I can see it in the dark shadows lurking within his eyes. In his shoulders, hunched ever so slightly, as if the weight of this world is resting entirely on them.
“Didn’t you hear me? Leave.”
I close the door behind me. “No.”
Tiernon shoves a hand through his hair. The movement is so familiar, filled with frustration and annoyance, it feels like I’m sixteen again, arguing with him over something stupid.
“You don’t want to be here, Arvelle. You don’t want anything to do with me.”
“That’s not true.” I wish it was.
“It is true. You think I just decided to abandon you on a whim.”
My heart judders, and the world suddenly sharpens.
“But you didn’t, did you? You left to protect me.”
He doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t need to.
The pieces have been rattling around in my subconscious, but now they’re fitting together.
The way he left me all those years ago. The way he pushed me away the moment I arrived at this place.
And the way he immediately began protecting me once he learned why I was here.
Orna’s dark scowl. I’m not sure why he cares. She can’t possibly be worth everything he did for her.