Chapter 45 #2
Samuel approached Hector with a question about one of the sculptures, and Amryn saw Ivan and Elowen drift away from the group.
Carver watched them with narrowed eyes.
Amryn looped her arm around his. “Let’s wander over here,” she said, tugging him in the opposite direction.
He muttered a low curse. “I know what you’re doing.”
Her lips twitched. “I wasn’t trying to be secretive.”
He gave her a look. “He’s too old for her.”
“They’re only a handful of years apart.”
“Exactly,” he huffed.
“You do realize we’re a handful of years apart.”
That only deepened Carver’s frown. But while he clearly wasn’t happy, he allowed her to guide him past a row of statues.
Each piece had a small plaque that gave a few details about the artwork, including the artist’s name and their kingdom of origin, as well as when the piece had been completed.
Some of the sculptures were broken, with limbs or even a head missing.
Deep fissures ran though large stone slabs that had once been proudly displayed on the exteriors of buildings, but were now set against the walls of the gallery and held in place by thick iron brackets.
In one of them, she recognized the image of Calyendyyr.
The god of protection carried a sword, which was similar to the one on her mother’s prayer coin.
Depicted with the minor god was his father, Gaelvynwyyryd—the father of all the gods.
Amryn only knew him from a few paintings that hadn’t been taken from Ferradin’s palace when the empire had conquered them.
Gaelvynwyyryd was always portrayed with a storm behind him, since he was an elemental force; not just the bringer of storms, but a storm himself.
His stone eyes were cold, and yet not flat.
They seemed eternal, as if he could see everything.
She also recognized the god of death, Azurellyewen, because of the raven perched on his shoulder.
Amryn drifted closer to read the plaque.
Taken from the facade of an ancient heathen temple in Western Ferradin. While a depiction of false gods, it is still a compelling work due to its artful style and impressive craftsmanship. Some pieces were lost in reclamation and transportation. Artist(s) unknown. Property of Emperor Lorcan Vayne.
Something deep inside her ached as she looked back up at the stonework. It shouldn’t even be here. It belonged to Ferradin. To the old gods and those who had worshipped them for centuries.
Of course, the old gods no longer existed.
The emperor had conquered them the same day he’d conquered Ferradin.
Even the spelling of the kingdom had been altered to Craethen’s common tongue; Faerydyn no longer truly existed.
It was no longer a proud and independent kingdom. Just another part of the empire.
Carver’s fingers laced with hers. A silent comfort that meant more than he could know.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
Amryn tore her gaze from the stonework to see the emperor move to stand beside them. She’d been so wrapped in her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed his approach.
“It is,” Carver said, speaking for both of them.
Emperor Vayne smiled softly. “It makes sense that you were drawn to this, Amryn. It comes from Ferradin.” He peered up at the partial facade from the old temple. “I especially appreciate the detail the artist put into his expression. The eyes in particular are fascinating, aren’t they?”
Interacting with the emperor was the last thing she wanted to do, but she knew she had little choice. She cleared her throat. “Yes, it’s very impressive.”
The emperor nodded, then glanced at Carver. “Do you mind if I have a brief word with Amryn?”
She couldn’t help but tense.
Carver’s grip tightened. “Your Eminence, I—”
“The refreshments I’ve sent for have arrived,” the emperor cut in. “Why don’t you get something for your wife?”
Amryn felt Carver’s pulse of reluctance, but she was equally aware of the emperor’s guards watching. It was so ingrained in her to avoid attention of any kind that she didn’t hesitate to touch Carver’s arm. “Go. I’ll be right here.”
Carver clearly didn’t want to leave her side, but he gave them both a nod. “I’ll return soon.”
As he walked away, the emperor murmured, “He’s protective. Especially after all that’s happened recently.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Amryn, for the danger you’ve found yourself in.”
His sincerity was clear, and that only served to make Amryn more uneasy. She wasn’t sure how to respond.
Luckily, the emperor did not seem to need a response. He clasped his hands, his bearded chin lifting as he surveyed the carving before them. “I have always loved Ferradin’s rich history.”
And yet you destroyed it. She didn’t say the words, but they rang in her head.
“Do you know the names of these gods?” he asked.
She didn’t know if it was a trick of some kind, or if he was truly curious. Regardless, she didn’t want to prolong this conversation, so she said, “No, Your Eminence.”
The emperor’s expression was impossible to read, but she felt an unexpected wave of remorse roll over him.
He gazed back up at the cracked stone effigy.
“I cannot remember them. I knew them once, I think.” He clasped his hands behind his slightly stooped back.
“Highest Cleric Jeremiah has asked me many times to remove this, and other pieces that depict various false religions.”
“Why haven’t you?” The words slipped from her unbidden.
The emperor’s lined brow furrowed further, his eyes fixed on Gaelvynwyyryd’s fathomless gaze. “When a man grows to be as old as I am, he carries many regrets. I find myself reluctant to add to that weight.”
It was the last thing she would have expected him to say.
She had always viewed the emperor as a monster. Since meeting him, she had been forced to see him in a new light. As a loving grandfather, and a man who was desperate to keep Jayveh and the other Chosen safe.
Amryn honestly didn’t know what was worse—thinking of the emperor as a monster, or seeing him as a man.
At least she could hate a monster without reservation.
As a man, the emperor was flawed, conflicted, and ultimately capable of both good and evil.
Knowing Carver loved and respected him—that he’d fought and bled for him and the empire he’d built—was only another facet of her confusion and internal conflict.
She certainly didn’t want to think about how she was personally defending the empire against the Rising right now.
Even if it was not for the emperor’s sake, it still felt wrong.
Especially while standing under the eyes of Ferradin’s old gods.
A low exhale reached her ears, and from the corner of her eye she saw the emperor gesture to his guards.
The men obediently retreated a short distance, though they created a perimeter that would ensure the emperor’s safety.
“I want to thank you personally, Amryn,” the emperor said quietly.
“You risked a great deal in Esperance to protect my grandson, as well as Jayveh and Carver. I want you to know that you have my eternal gratitude.”
Her stomach twisted. She didn’t want this man to thank her for anything.
He hadn’t killed her mother, but he was ultimately responsible for her death.
He was the reason so many empaths had been executed.
He was the reason Torin had witnessed the murders of his parents and siblings.
He was the reason Amryn’s own grandparents had been executed.
“Do you believe Argent is dead?” the emperor asked.
The suddenness of the question—as well as its starkness—made Amryn tense. “Yes.”
He nodded once, unsurprised but clearly pained.
His eyes returned to the carving, his voice quiet as he said, “I have lost far too many people that I love. It is an agony unlike any other.” His throat flexed as he swallowed.
“The worst day of my life was the day I lost my wife. My sweet Sevee. She was taken from me, her life stolen by a man I had long viewed as a friend, until he revealed himself to be a demon.”
“Saul Von,” she said softly.
Old rage blistered, and the emperor’s jaw tightened.
“Yes. Jeremiah tried to warn me of the threat that empaths posed, but I didn’t see it then.
I was blinded by the face of a friend. The cost of my arrogance was my Sevee’s life.
I wasn’t with her when she took her last breath, but .
. .” A trembling hand moved to rest against his heart.
“I felt it. Here. And when I saw her covered in blood . . .” He shook his head, pain lancing through his chest. “Too soon, my son and his wife were taken from me as well, by the same man. It is only by a miracle Argent wasn’t killed along with them.
That Saul was caught before his blade could take my grandson’s life, his reign of terror finally ended. ”
“Did you know Saul Von was an empath before you befriended him?” she asked.
The emperor frowned, and Amryn’s pulse quickened. Her mother and Rix had always told her to show no interest in empaths. She’d just broken their rule with none other than the emperor himself.
“Yes,” the emperor said. “I knew. Empaths didn’t hide back then, as they cower now. I believed he was my friend. That he shared my dream of uniting the kingdoms. He was instrumental in helping me bring my vision to light.”
It seemed so wrong, considering how Von’s story had ended.