Chapter 24 Carver
Carver
Carver remained tense as the physician sewed the cut on Amryn’s arm. It only required a few stitches, but if that bolt had hit her almost anywhere else . . .
He wrestled hard to keep his emotions locked down. There was no need for her to feel everything he was, especially when she had her own pain to bear. Even with the medicine the physician had given her, Amryn stiffened as the needle and thread had pulled through her skin.
Ahmi arrived as the physician was bandaging the wound.
The maid’s fear for Amryn was clear, but she hadn’t hesitated to assist where she could.
When the physician was finished, Ahmi helped Amryn change into another dress.
By the time they re-entered the main room, Carver was the only one still in the suite.
Ahmi helped settle Amryn into the bed, pillows propping her up against the headboard. “Thank you, Ahmi.”
Carver immediately sat beside her. “What do you need?”
“Just a little rest.” She gave him a thin smile, but he wasn’t reassured. She was too pale.
He hated it. Hated how helpless he felt right now.
She cleared her throat. “I’ll be ready for the feast tonight.”
“You’re not going.”
She eyed him. “I think the emperor would have something to say about that. Besides, I don’t want to leave Jayveh alone.” Carver might have argued, but Amryn was already looking at Ahmi. “Will you give us a moment?”
“Of course,” the maid said, slipping from the room.
Amryn watched her go, her eyes darting to the guard in the hall. Her shoulder relaxed slightly. “His shift must have ended,” she murmured.
Carver frowned. “What?”
She met his stare. “The Rising made contact with me.”
It was the absolute last thing he’d expected her to say. “What?”
Her lips pursed. “They think I’m still loyal to the cause.”
He recalled the strain he’d detected in her at the prison. “It happened this morning,” he guessed.
“Yes. Here, in the room.” She swallowed. “It was the guard who was just here. Bram.”
Carver tried to recall the man’s face, but couldn’t.
He’d been in too much of a rush to reach Amryn.
Samuel had assured him that she was all right, but he knew he couldn’t believe it until he saw her himself.
Now, Carver knew his wife had been in danger twice today.
Tension bracketed his spine. “Did he hurt you?”
“No.” She paused, then added, “I know him.”
Shock hit once more. “How?”
“He’s from Ferradin. He’s been my uncle’s bodyguard for years.” Shadows entered her eyes as she told him about her encounter with Bram. How he wanted her help with some rebel mission.
Carver’s heart hammered the entire time.
The guard stationed at her door—a man entrusted to protect her—was a member of the Rising.
His enemy. And Amryn’s enemy as well, if the man ever learned she’d betrayed the rebellion.
The rebels were fanatics. Carver didn’t trust any of them.
Certainly not with Amryn’s life. He needed to talk to his father, get handpicked men to guard—
Amryn’s hand landed on his arm. “I’m all right.”
His eyes cut to hers. “He could have killed you.” Blazing Saints, the man had walked right in. No one would have heard her cries until it was too late.
If they heard her at all.
“Carver.” Amryn held his gaze as she slowly shook her head. “Bram would never hurt me. He joined the Rising to protect me. I was caught off guard, but I was never in danger.”
Her soothing tone did little to assuage his panic, let alone the sick feeling low in his gut. “Two men,” he said tightly. “There should always be at least two men at your door.”
She squeezed his arm. “All right.” She didn’t argue. Didn’t fight. Because she knew he needed this.
She knew, because she felt it.
He pinched his eyes closed, focusing on steadying his breathing and calming his rioting thoughts and emotions. Now that he knew it worked, he needed to be better at shielding her.
“Bram wouldn’t hurt me,” Amryn said slowly, an odd note entering her voice. “But . . .” He tensed at her hesitation. Her eyes flickered between his, a cringe overtaking her expression. “He wants to kill you.”
As he’d been prepared for something worse, this news made him snort. Seeing her concern for him, after everything she’d been through, had him cracking a smile. “The man’s not alone in wanting me dead, sweetheart.”
“Carver, this is serious.” Anxiety strained her voice. “He said my uncle never intended for us to remain married after Esperance. He wants you dead, too.”
“I’ll win him over.”
“How can you be so certain?”
“I’m very likeable.” At her scowl, he pointed out, “I won you over, didn’t I?”
“This isn’t a joke.”
Seeing her distress, he sighed. Tucking a loose curl behind her ear, he said, “I’ll be careful. But I’m not going to hold this against your uncle. Frankly, I’m relieved to see his protectiveness of you.”
“Even if it threatens your life?”
When he only smiled, she muttered under her breath. It sounded like a curse on all men.
He laced his fingers through hers. “It’s going to be all right. We’ll arrest Bram, and—”
“What if we didn’t arrest him?”
Now, Carver stilled. “He’s a rebel. This isn’t like your uncle or Torin, who may have just been sympathetic to the Rising. Bram confessed his involvement.”
“I know.” Amryn squeezed his hand. “But if you arrest him, you’ll alert other rebels in the palace.
They’d have time to escape. And there’s no guarantee Bram would tell you anything—or that he’ll even know everything the Rising is planning, since rebels only get small pieces of the larger plan.
But he mentioned a superior. If we could catch him . . .”
Carver’s skin suddenly felt too tight. “Tell me you aren’t suggesting that you infiltrate the Rising as a double agent in order to learn more about what they’re planning.”
Her beautiful green eyes narrowed. “It’s the wisest course.”
It was also insanely dangerous for her. “You’re not trained for something like that.”
“Pretending to be what I’m not? Hiding the truth?” She scoffed. “I’ve been doing that my entire life.”
Her words caused something deep inside him to ache. He lowered his voice. “I don’t want you to do this. I don’t want you taking such a risk.”
“Jayveh went to Esperance knowing she’d pretend to work with the rebels.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
Because it was Jayveh, not you.
He didn't say the words, but Amryn’s eyes softened. “I know you’re worried about me, but . . .” She took a slow breath. “If I do this, maybe I can negotiate pardons for Rix and Torin. Maybe even get some leniency for Bram as well, if I can prove he hasn’t done anything truly treasonous yet.”
“Amryn . . .”
“Please, Carver.” Her eyes gleamed with sudden tears.
“Rix and Torin . . . they raised me. I need to protect them. They’re my family.
” A single tear fell, and she hurried to brush it away.
“Arresting Bram now probably won’t get you anything.
But if I can find out what the Rising has planned here in the palace, I might be able to save lives—on both sides.
Bram said the Rising didn’t send an assassin after Jayveh, but what if things change and she becomes a target? What if you do?” Another tear fell.
Carver leaned forward, framing her face between his hands. The wet trails on his palms made his chest ache. “You don’t have to do this. I’ll talk with the emperor. I’ll beg him to hear your testimony of Rix and Torin.”
“And if he chooses not to believe me? Jamir’s accusation against my uncle could be damning enough, but now Rix’s trusted bodyguard is a rebel.
That won’t look good.” She shook her head.
“I can’t risk it. I can’t risk Torin and Rix.
” Her good hand lifted, her fingers wrapping around his wrist, holding him there just as her eyes did. “Please understand.”
He hated that he did. He would risk anything for his family. How could he expect Amryn to do any less? He closed his eyes, his head tipping forward until their foreheads met. Slowly, he exhaled. “If we do this . . .”
Her breath hitched, her grip tightening on his wrist. “We?”
His thumbs glanced over her cheeks, swiping through the trails of her tears.
“If you insist on doing this, then I insist on making sure you do it safely.” He pulled back just enough to meet her too-eager gaze.
His stomach clenched. “I can’t be there with you when you meet with Bram.
The Rising would never believe I’d betray the empire.
But there is no way I’m letting you meet them alone.
” They needed to find someone the Rising would believe could be turned.
One of his father’s men, or maybe Ford. Carver didn’t know what the rebels might know about him, but Ford had a well-trained ability to lie and blend in. He could be convincing.
“I won’t be alone,” Amryn said. “Bram wants Samuel there.”
“That’s not enough.” The academic prince was no bodyguard. “Besides, we don’t even know if he’ll agree to this.”
“He will. To prove his loyalty to the empire—for Sadia’s sake—he would do anything.”
Something in her voice made him still. “Are you trying to do that, too? Prove your loyalty?”
Her eyes searched his, her words soft as she said, “I’m not loyal to the empire, Carver. How could I be?”
That cut him. The pain in her voice, the truth her words hinted at . . . But how could he blame her for not being loyal to the empire that hated who she was? An empire that wanted her dead simply for being born with a miraculous gift?
And yet, it was the empire he’d fought and bled for. Sent men to their deaths to defend. He’d dedicated his life to protecting the empire she feared and hated.
He’d once told her in Esperance they only needed to find common ground, and then they could figure out the rest. They’d both had faith in Argent, and the future he would build as the emperor. But that future was gone now. Argent was gone. Carver suddenly wondered what that meant for them.