Chapter 29 #2
The tension between the two men was uncomfortable, and the last thing Amryn wanted was for Bram to dislike Ivan. She cleared her throat. “The Wraith probably just doesn’t want to take the time to search for the dagger, since it could be anywhere in the palace.”
“Exactly,” Samuel said, agreeing with her.
Ivan and Bram continued to stare at each other for another prolonged moment, before Ivan dipped his chin. “That would make sense.”
Bram eyed the Sibeten prince a moment longer before he said, “This mission is important enough that we will have all the reinforcements we need. Every rebel we have in the palace, if necessary. My superior will be there as well, so he can immediately take the dagger to the Wraith.”
“And once the emperor is dead?” Samuel asked. “What happens then?”
“Everything,” Bram said. The ripple of excitement he felt was chilling.
“Everything happens after the emperor is dead. The empire will fracture; politicians will wrestle for power, the church will try to assert dominance, and civil war will break out. The Rising will finally be able to engage in outright war. After far too long . . .” A gleam entered his eyes as he uttered the Rising’s mantra: “We will rise.”
Amryn couldn’t shake the unease that blanketed her during the rest of their meeting. Thankfully, Bram didn’t linger much longer. He reminded them not to take any undue risks, and as he bid them to be safe, his eyes lingered on her. Then he was gone.
Samuel left a few minutes later, leaving Amryn and Ivan alone in the quiet corner of the library.
“Samuel could betray us to the Rising,” Ivan said softly.
She sighed. “He could. But he won’t.”
“As long as Sadia remains unthreatened.”
She couldn’t really argue that.
Ivan leaned back against the bookshelf, eyeing her. Curiosity and worry tangled within him, along with speculation.
Her nerves were already taut after their meeting with Bram. She couldn’t stand any more suspense. “What?” she asked, probably a little too harshly.
Ivan lifted one eyebrow. “You must trust Carver a great deal.”
It was the last thing she had expected him to say. Caught off guard, she answered truthfully. “I trust him with my life.”
Concern tinged the air around Ivan, though his face remained neutral as he studied her. “There is a saying in my kingdom. Tu rik krishka tu haan ahs frie—zshil tu var mahs keeling.”
“What does it mean?”
His eyes bored into hers. “The closest translation? ‘The pig trusts the hand of the one who feeds it—right until the moment of slaughter.’”
Goosebumps raced over her body, tightening her skin. “Carver would never hurt me. I trust him completely.”
Ivan met her stare. “Trust must go both ways, il mishka. It is not worth anything if it is one-sided.”
His words made her think of all the times Carver had pulled back from her. The times he hadn’t shared his thoughts or his past with her, even when she asked. The moments when he clamped down on his emotions. The relief he’d felt when she told him his shielding worked.
“Carver is a man with loyalties to many,” Ivan said, his voice quiet. “The emperor. His family. If his loyalties were tested, are you confident he would choose you?”
Her pulse suddenly roared in her ears. She wanted to say yes.
But she couldn’t. Loyalty to the Craethen Empire was deeply ingrained in Carver, a legacy he’d been born and raised into.
He’d gone to war to defend the empire. He’d killed, and nearly been killed, for it.
He’d been tortured. Endured things Amryn could barely stand to imagine, all for the empire.
And his family. Amryn hadn’t met all of them, but she knew the love Carver had for them.
She had seen it here in the capital, with Elowen and his father—even Berron, though that relationship was fraught with tension.
And every time Carver spoke of his mother, his siblings, his niece and nephew, his grandparents, she could feel his love and loyalty.
Amryn knew Carver cared for her. She’d even felt love from him. If he ever did betray her, she knew it would come from a place of goodness. Loyalty to his family, or the emperor he loved like a grandfather. Not greed, like her father.
It gutted her all the same. Especially when she realized no one had ever chosen her.
Her own father had traded her life for a handful of coins.
Her brother had left her with Rix and never looked back.
Rix had taken her in and loved her, and so had Torin, but had that really been a choice?
What men in their twenties wanted to raise a traumatized little girl?
No one had ever truly chosen her. Not when something else had beckoned. The grief of that realization cut deep, stealing her breath.
“I am sorry,” Ivan said. And she could feel that he was. Regret and pity warred within him as he stared at her. “I just want you to be careful, Amryn. But perhaps I should not have said anything. It is clear Carver cares greatly for you. Perhaps I am wrong to worry.”
She feared he wasn’t. Because while she knew Carver cared for her, if it ever came down to a choice he couldn’t help but make . . .
She couldn’t expect him to choose her.