Chapter Forty-Three
Release
Bright yellow light streams in and widens with the opening of the door, prompting each of my Guards to rise quickly and stand one pace away from where I sit in chains.
A dark shadow descends in the shape of the Emperor’s caped form, which looms larger the closer he stalks toward me.
The confidence in his stride serves as evidence he has sobered since we last met, taking on a different quality than his gait when drunk.
Every spine in the room straightens, and an eerie stillness descends when His Majesty’s Guards follow him in and effectively block the one way in or out.
Emperor Aldritch stares down at me as he closes the distance, only stopping once the toe of his boot collides with the side of my thigh.
He slowly lowers into a crouch, with Raki noticeably missing from its typical perch on his shoulder.
He braces on one knee and sways when he thrusts a hand out in command.
Ivo breaks from the line to storm over and place a large iron skeleton key in the center of the Emperor’s palm.
I hold my breath as Varic’s shield expands to cover my skin before His Majesty’s pale white hand grasps the underside of my ankle while he reaches forward with his other hand to rotate the shackle.
He inserts the key and twists until there is an audible click, then removes and balances the key over his bent knee to pry the metal ring open, finally freeing one of my legs.
I reach down and rub the area to make a show of how uncomfortable they were intended to be, and Varic knowingly retracts his shield, allowing me to redden the skin beneath.
His Majesty shifts and repeats the action for my other ankle, while rage and fury course through Varic the longer the Emperor takes to release me.
The Emperor inches closer, with the weight of expectations hiding behind his expression of faux sympathy pulling on my limbs heavier than any shackle could.
“Have you learned your lesson, my little witch?” he asks, projecting his voice.
I nod, though I cannot please someone whose expectations are as mercurial as his moods. Just as it is impossible to keep an abuser from harming you if they have the ability to do so.
I do my best to avoid allowing his hands to touch the skin on my neck as he places the skeleton key within the last remaining shackle. The strange sense of relief is quickly consumed by fear as the weight of the last metal ring leaves my body, though I remain as trapped as ever.
His Majesty straightens, sitting upright to look down on me with a satisfied sneer.
I am much too weak to stand, though I force myself up as steadily as I can with Emperor Aldritch crushing my hand, pulling me with him as he rises alongside me.
I bow to him in deference, so as not to be locked up again for my insolence.
“You will join me for breakfast,” His Majesty commands as he turns to stalk away without any mention as to my relative state of undress, nor with any orders to clean up first. A deep sigh leaves me, mourning the loss of the warmth I could have if I were to change into clothing of substance, and ideally some form of footwear.
“Your Majesty,” Varic says as he takes a bow.
“Yes?” Emperor Aldritch asks.
“Permission to escort Imperial Grand Witch Tasch to your bathing chamber prior to joining you for breakfast?” Varic asks in the form of a question posed to an Imperial Army Commander.
The Emperor laughs at his delivery, then nods once.
“Do so swiftly. I do not appreciate being kept waiting.” With a flourish of his cape, he exits the secret room, followed by his Imperial Guards.
I brace against the cold stone as my feet fail to hold my weight now that the heat Varic shared with me has dissipated.
His hands circle my waist, catching my wilting form before I collapse, pulling me to rest my cheek against his chest, where I greedily breathe in his scent.
He lifts beneath my arms to help me stand, and a sharp, stinging pain shoots up my legs.
Cold spreads from where his hands curve around my back, imbuing me with healing, alleviating the sting, though he cannot give me strength.
“I can fly you there,” Fray offers, stepping closer.
“Or I can carry you. It’d be fastest,” Lars says with a goading smile.
I shake my head at both of their offers. “I need to show I can walk.”
“But can you?” Fray asks.
“I have an idea,” Varic says, and my brows rise.
“Do you trust me?”
“Of course.” The words exit my mouth before I can think of my answer. “Should I not?”
He shrugs. “I guess we’re about to find out.”
His gaze shifts to the floor, and an intense focus draws his features.
Additional amber energy flows from him, shimmery and shifting until it tingles along the sensitive skin underneath my feet. My eyes widen as the energy pulses beneath me, and an odd vibration emanates from the energy force, surprisingly soothing as it courses over the sore muscles within the soles.
“How is this different from your regular shielding?” I ask, entranced.
Varic’s expression remains focused as he holds his arm out in offering.
“Here, hold on to me,” he says, and I grab hold while my heart hammers in anticipation. “If it starts to feel too unsteady, tell me.” I open my mouth to ask him what he means, since he did something similar when we were made to dance together, then clamp my jaw shut when his magic lifts me up.
“Oh, shit!” I exclaim, because this is certainly different.
“You’re okay. I have you.” He wraps an arm around my waist and something shifts between us, making this moment feel far more intimate than all the contact and conversation we shared while trapped in this room.
Using his magic to provide me a reprieve, helping me walk when I otherwise could not, stirs something more than gratitude and appreciation, and much more powerful than admiration. Imbued with a unique color—a reddish pink—unlike anything I’ve known to be experienced by anyone other than Varic.
It pulses between us like that tether tugging on my chest, and I pull in a sharp intake of breath. This feeling—this color—it’s been there. I’ve sensed it. Every time the flush crawls up my neck from the center of my chest. Every time he looks at me. Defends me. Protects me.
I know this color better than I’ve allowed myself to recognize—something which has been a part of our connection for far longer than I could have previously acknowledged.
Because this color, this specific hue, is how my mind sees Varic’s love. For me.
I shake my head, trying to keep this realization from becoming permanent, as my memory is often that of an Elder Dragon, recalling all I wish to forget.
“Am I hurting you?” Varic asks, and my heart squeezes.
“No,” I say, swallowing. His expression softens as his feelings for me flow into my chest. I allow it all—every last bit—selfishly taking what he’s giving after years of neglect.
Or not. This feeling he has for me, this love, it’s been there.
He has expressed it. Some part of me must have known.
It’s obvious now, thinking back. It’s in the way he looks at me.
How his tone shifts every time he forms my name.
The way in which he disarms me by filling the deep dark void I carry with a feeling we all need but seldom receive.
I look at him now with tears in my eyes, and my chest swelling past what seems possible, and tell him, earnestly, “This is amazing, Varic.”
His eyes search mine, and I say a silent plea for him to cease as fear spills from some fracture deep within me, confirming how impossible it is to hide from him the longer we’re in each other’s presence.
This connection we share is dangerous. His concern for me is based on some false sense of fealty.
It is wrong of me to accept his misplaced feelings without telling him what I now understand to be true.
“What are you doing differently from every other time you’ve supported me with your shield?”
Varic shrugs. “I just…put a different emphasis on the way I cast it. Which doesn’t make sense, but it’s the only way I can think to describe it.”
Lars crosses his arms and stares at Varic. “Well, I can neither see nor feel what you’re talking about, so I am just going to assume whatever it is will help her walk, and since the Emperor is going to rage if we keep him waiting much longer, what’s the plan?”
“I am going to assist Tasch in walking to the Emperor’s bathing chamber as commanded.”
“Don’t you think anyone will notice her floating above the floor?” Fray asks, gesturing to where my feet do as he describes.
“No,” Varic says confidently. “Watch.”
He nudges his chin toward me, “Take a step, Tasch.” My heart thrums as much from his repeated use of my name as from the experiment for which I am the test subject.
With a deep breath, I take the first step, and pain emanates from engaging my sore muscles before feeling as if I am stepping on vapor, which holds me up somehow.
“Whoa. You can’t tell anything is different,” Fray says.
“Damn,” Lars says, not usually so easy to impress.
“Thank you,” I say, pinning Varic with my gaze, needing him to receive this—to receive my heartfelt gratitude. He deserves it, being doomed to love the one who has not earned his staunch loyalty and self-sacrificing tendencies.
He shifts the arm I’ve been leaning on, no longer needing to brace myself as the one he has wound around my middle steadies me enough in conjunction with his magic.
Then he takes my hand in his and holds it not for support—or at least not the physical sort.
His impossibly bright eyes seem to brighten considerably, and he steals my breath when his lips curve up in a prideful smile.
“I will do everything in my power to take care of you, Tasch.”
I stare back as shock and awe take over and freeze my expression, withholding the unbidden tears conjured by his words.
I’ve never been the recipient of a similar sentiment—not in the way he means it, and certainly never with such conviction.
The red-tinged amber emotion flows around him like a warbling mist, its gentle warmth blanketing us as my own feelings war with themselves, desperately wanting to accept this while recognizing its dangers.
“What?” Varic says. “It’s not like Fray could fly you this covertly.”
Lars laughs, clapping Fray on the back before wrapping an arm around his shoulder to pull him in for a side hug. “No, what Fray lacks in stealth and precision, he makes up for in speed, height, and distance.”
“None of which are helpful in this situation,” I say to Fray with a sympathetic shrug. “Sorry, friend.”
He shrugs in return and falls in behind Varic and me, lining up to exit the open doorway. We trudge on in compliance with the Emperor’s commands, feeling as if we are getting away with some form of revolution.