CHAPTER 29 - You Pity Him
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"If you know someone's guilty, why not punish them?" I asked. "No one would dare question the emperor."
"That's right," he said. "I'm an emperor — not a tyrant. Despite how you paint me." He added that last part bitterly. "As much as I'd love to, and trust me, I'd certainly love to, I cannot condemn someone without evidence."
My fists curled in my lap.
"You know..." I hesitated. "The reason I've been... wary of you... is because of the stories I heard about Thornmont." My voice faltered, but I forced myself to continue. "I read tales of emperors executing concubines over whispers of infidelity — without trial."
Sylvos shifted, rolling onto his side as he watched me.
"I think I know the story you mean," he said.
My breath stilled.
"You do?"
He nodded, his black eyes darkening slightly.
"My father."
I blinked.
"He... executed a concubine?" I asked.
"No," Sylvos said. "He executed the empress."
The words landed heavy, and I shifted against the pillows, suddenly aware of how close we were.
"My mother was his first bride," Sylvos began. "When his harem grew to its proper size, she finally conceived and was crowned empress. I was born with his face — there was no mistaking the bloodline. But my father was never satisfied."
His lip curled, contempt darkening his expression.
"He wed another despite obtaining an heir — one of those silver-tongued whores from Flynmoore. A princess." He spat the word like it was poison.
I stayed silent, afraid to break whatever spell had loosed his tongue. This was a side of Sylvos I had never seen before — a wound still bleeding beneath the armor.
"That woman knew how to twist men to her will. He adored her, doted on her. So, when she claimed to be with child, he didn't question it. Never mind that our bloodline can only sire from one woman. She convinced him he was an exception."
I frowned as something clicked. Sylvos' mother was from Bludverdii and was the emperor's first bride. Similarly, Isolde was also from Bludverdii and Sylvos' first bride.
I suppose the similarity between the two explained Sylvos' favor towards her.
Did she remind him of his mother?
"But that wasn't enough for the Flynmoore princess," he went on, voice colder now. "She wanted to be empress. And needed my mother gone. So, she accused her of infidelity — said I was a bastard."
Sylvos laughed, but the sound lacked any warmth.
"He believed her," he said. "Despite my face being a mirror of his. Despite her own bastard resembling neither my father nor her. He had my mother dragged to the courtyard and executed in front of me. I was eleven."
A chill swept through me.
Sylvos' gaze lowered, haunted but unflinching.
"For five years, I rotted in the dungeons," he said. "The princess' son sat on the throne while I sharpened my hate. But I wasn't alone. The guards knew who I was — the rightful heir. Some smuggled me food. Others trained me."
His eyes looked ahead as though he saw it all happen before him.
"Then came the whispers," he continued softly. "Briarvex called to me from my father's vault. The sword hated being locked away as much as I did. It chose me. Or maybe we chose each other."
I couldn't move, couldn't stop listening.
"When I escaped, I didn't stop until I had my father's sword. And then I took his throne." His lips twisted in a grim smile. "I killed the princess first. Her bastard child next. And then every noble who ever bowed to them."
The room seemed colder now, as if the walls themselves had heard his confession and recoiled.
Sylvos' black eyes locked on mine, and my pulse stammered.
I suddenly felt as though I'd pried open a door that should have stayed sealed.
"I hate princesses," he murmured. "They act sweet, but their loyalty is always toward their crowns, to their countries.
" His gaze softened, like moonlight on a blade.
"I suppose that's why I've taken a liking to you.
You don't pretend. You wear your hatred openly.
With you, I know exactly where I stand."
Guilt, sharp and unwelcome, stabbed through me.
It struck me then why I had spent so much time provoking him, testing him.
I stared into those fathomless eyes, and for one treacherous moment, I couldn't find the monster who had killed me.
But he had.
I knew he was still there, buried beneath the man before me.
And perhaps that was what unsettled me most — how wrong it felt to destroy him while he remained this version of himself. This man, whom didn't yet deserve my blade.
I wanted to see the tyrant first.
I needed to.
Only then could I stomach what must be done.
"To be truthful," I whispered, the words trembling, "there's another reason I... am wary of you."
He shifted closer.
"Why?"
I broke his gaze, looking away.
"The night before you came to Drakfjord, I..." My voice faltered. "I had a dream. A long one. In it, I joined your harem, rose to Nightshade, and even carried your child. But then—" My throat tightened. "Then you accused me of infidelity and executed me. No trial. No questions."
Sylvos moved so swiftly, I barely registered it. His hand rested lightly against my stomach, his breath brushing my skin as he leaned in.
"I would never do that to you," he vowed.
My eyes burned.
But you did, I wanted to scream.
"It felt so real," I whispered instead.
His gaze dropped to my collarbone, to the scar that only he and I knew existed. His fingertips brushed it, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver through me.
"I know you've been hurt," he murmured. "And if you asked it, I would avenge you. I would wage war against anyone who dared to harm you." His voice hardened. "But I am not my father, Raine. I will never be him. I would never betray you like that."
I almost believed him.
Almost.
But I could still feel his sword piercing through me, still see my blood pooling at my feet.
And every night, I dreamed of a different death.
"I can't explain this feeling," Sylvos said softly. His fingers trailed along my arm almost lovingly. "Despite your hostility, I have this strange urge to protect you. As if..." He hesitated, and for the first time, he looked uncertain. "As if you're someone precious I cannot lose."
A tear slipped free before I could stop it.
He caught it with his thumb and brushed it away with a tenderness that felt like a trap.
"Your dance at the Harvest Festival was exquisite, Raine. When I saw it, I felt like..." He swallowed. "Like I'd seen it before. And this feeling I have... It only grew stronger. It's unnerving. I was almost too fearful to see you again. I might've been tempted to take you away."
He leaned closer, his breath warm against my lips.
"I shouldn't lower my guard around you. Especially with my advisors whispering warnings in my ear..." His fingers tangled in my hair. "But I cannot help it."
I couldn't breathe.
I couldn't look away from him.
Another tear fell.
Sylvos tilted his head, closing the distance until his lips hovered just above mine.
"How long would it take for you to believe I am not your enemy?"
I could feel the steady, powerful beat of his heart as he leaned in. His dark lashes lowered, and for one reckless moment, I didn't move.
I almost gave in.
But then I remembered it all. I saw it as though it happened yet again. Briarvex, slick with my blood, piercing through my chest.
The pain.
The betrayal.
The child I never held.
I jerked back as if burned, shattering the moment.
"This is not appropriate for my rank," I said, my voice brittle and sharp.
I stumbled off the fur bed, forcing distance between us.
Sylvos' eyes darkened, but he didn't rise to stop me. Instead, he leaned back against the headboard, a slow smirk curling at his lips.
"Your rank," he repeated as though tasting the word. "You plan to change it at my Birthday Celebration, right?"
I forced my chin higher, though my pulse continued to race.
"Yes."
His smirk deepened, hunger gleaming in his gaze.
"Then I suppose I don't mind waiting a little longer for you."
I turned before he could see the flush creeping up my neck. My hands trembled as I straightened my gown, desperate to escape the suffocating heat of his chambers.
The heavy doors groaned open, and the guards stiffened. Their eyes flicked to me, widening slightly as they took in my rushed state. Whispers stirred like dead leaves, echoing down the hall as servants paused in their duties to watch me pass.
I ignored them.
Every step felt heavier than the last as I walked the shadowed corridors of Dornhold's Fortress.
I wanted to feel anger. At him. At myself.
But all I felt was the phantom heat of his touch. And the weight of my own weakness.
When my thoughts became too much, I stumbled into the garden, pushing past the hedges until I was sure no one was nearby. My knees struck the damp earth, and I sank into it, my pink dress pooling around me like spilled strawberry wine.
My fingers tangled in my hair, desperate to claw the thoughts from my skull.
Useless, useless, thoughts.
"You pity him in every life."
The voice jolted me awake, but I relaxed as recognition sank in.
I drew Raincatcher from my side and stared at the blade. Ryn sat beside me on the grass, legs crossed as he gazed at the stars. The moonlight cast his grayish skin in shades of blue, his black hair reflecting like a raven's feather. His pointed ears angled slightly back.
"What if... what if I told him the truth?" I could barely hear my own voice. "About how I died and came back?"
Ryn didn't look at me.
"You ask that almost every time," he said, his voice soft against the cold night air. "And every time, I have to tell you that you did try it once."
"And?"
"And he killed you all the same."
I froze, my reflection distorted in the blade's steel.
"What..."
"Not at first," Ryn murmured, finally lowering his gaze to meet mine. "He didn't believe you. As a rule, the tyrant doesn't believe in things he can't actually see for himself. He thought you'd confused a dream with reality."
"Oh..."
My eyes cast down as I traced the engravings on Raincatcher's hilt.
"You lived longer that time — three years," Ryn continued. "Almost longer than your first life. Almost..." His voice darkened. "But like all the others, it ended in blood."
My hands trembled as I gripped the dagger tighter.
"How?"
Ryn's eyes reflected a deep blue.
"Isolde was murdered. Her throat slit with your Windcleaver.
While investigating the matter, some of your old treasons were uncovered.
You pleaded for mercy, begged him not to kill you again — but it only proved to appear as a motive.
He was sure your madness spurred your vengeance against her. "
I hung my head, staring into my lap as the words burned through me.
"So, he wouldn't believe me then..."
"You waver in every life," Ryn said gently. "And it gets you killed."
"I just..." I swallowed hard. "I wish he didn't look so innocent." The confession bled out before I could stop it. "This Sylvos hasn't committed any crimes against me. Not yet. I want to kill the tyrant, not the man."
Ryn's eyes hardened.
"And what about him?" he asked. "Do you think he hesitated to kill you when you were innocent?"
"Just that one time..."
"What?"
I leaned back and let my gaze drift toward the stars.
"I was innocent only in my first life... Every life after, I've committed treason to ruin him. From his perspective, I've betrayed him countless times." My voice cracked. "Even now, if my letters to my sisters are found, I'll lose my head."
"Rainey..." Ryn's tone softened. "Don't falter. We can't waste another life. You must end it this time."
"I know." My voice barely held as I buried my face in my hands. "I know..."
The words felt empty.
"I wish I'd left my heart behind the first time it was ripped out." My voice broke. Raw, brittle, and bitter. "I wish I was stronger. I wish I was better."
"You are better," Ryn murmured. He shifted behind me, arms wrapping around my shoulders even though I couldn't feel them. "But being the better person won't save you."
A breeze caressed my ear, and I nearly mistook it for his breath as he leaned in closer.
"The only way to kill him is to be worse than him."
I nodded despite my uncertainty.
Could I kill a man for sins he has yet to commit? Was it fair to punish him for something he has no memory of?
Perhaps that was why I had failed so many times before...
Snap.
The crack of twigs broke through the stillness, and voices drifted through the garden.
My eyes went round. Slowly, I rose and crept toward the hedge's edge, parting the leaves just enough to glimpse the scene beyond.
Isolde. Cerys. And Griveen.
They stood together, moonlight sharpening their faces.
"...never told me she was a princess!" Griveen whispered sharply.
"Does it matter?" Isolde's scoffed.
"Of course it matters!" Griveen hissed. "The agreement was to get rid of a simple Peony concubine. If I'd known she was a princess, and the emperor's Beast Warden, I wouldn't have done it! That creature nearly devoured me!"
"But she is a Peony concubine," Isolde said smoothly. "We never lied."
"You've ruined me! My poor griffon enslaved, my reputation in tatters, and the emperor loathes me now!"
"The one who failed our agreement is you. You're a Nightshade. You got your rank."
"Rank be damned! If rank mattered, you wouldn't be so threatened by a Peony."
Isolde laughed.
"It's not me who's threatened," she said. "It's the emperor. That woman is after his life. I'm only trying to protect him. You wouldn't believe how many concubines come here as assassins. She's no different."
"How do you know?" Griveen demanded, blue eyes narrowing.
I pressed closer, trying to hear them more clearly.
Isolde flicked her red hair over her shoulder.
"I'm Bludverdiian. We can smell bloodlust. I smelled it the moment she first entered the banquet hall on her arrival."
My breath stilled.
I hadn't known this about Isolde...
"Then what can we do?" Griveen asked.
"We watch her," Cerys said calmly, tucking a pale blond hair behind her ear. "She'll slip. Whether it's poison, rumors, or treasonous letters, we'll catch her eventually."
Panic flared inside me.
If they so much as glimpsed the letters I had sent to my sisters...
"I hate waiting." Isolde crossed her arms. "If her rank climbs too high, she might get rid of us first. Then who will be left to protect His Majesty? Is it not better to plant evidence and be rid of her before she can harm anyone?"
"Perhaps..." Cerys' words hung heavy as fog.
"And what about me?" Griveen's voice wavered. "What happens if the emperor still hates me?"
"There's still use for you," Isolde said. "If we can't dispose of her before the war begins, you'll have the most important role to play."
"I just..." Griveen faltered. "I need to keep His Majesty's favor... That's all I want. My kingdom needs assurances... That he won't turn his eyes our way once Fayndor falls."
Isolde scoffed.
"If His Majesty wants your kingdom, you should give it to him. Even though my mother is a Duchess of Bludverdii, I'd still stand with Sylvos if he decided to burn my homeland to ash. You aren't loyal to Vrostvale anymore, Princess. You're loyal to your husband."
Griveen's head bowed, strands of white-tipped hair ghosting across her face.
"Of course..."
"To be honest, I'd prefer we end her before she reaches Lavender," Isolde continued. "I can't stomach the thought of His Majesty bedding that vicious woman."
"And if she carries his child," Cerys added, "it could complicate matters..."
Isolde's crimson lips twisted.
"The chances are too low. Surely the gods wouldn't curse Sylvos with her as his empress."
My back pressed into the shadows, heart racing so hard it hurt.
I couldn't stay any longer.
I didn't want to get caught.
Slipping through the hedges, I fled away from the gardens.
I'd heard enough to know my situation at court was even worse than I realized.
The fact that Isolde was aware of my intentions from the start threw me off the most. I'd assumed she was simply jealous as she had been in my first life, but it seemed her determination to kill me this time stemmed from her fierce desire to protect Sylvos.
Which made her even more dangerous.
I bit down a curse as I hurried through the shadows. Peony Castle loomed in the distance, and I walked as fast as I could.
Damn it.
I'd been at a disadvantage from the very start.
Even now, if the Nightshades uncovered my treason, I wouldn't live to see another sunrise.
And as if that wasn't enough, I had to watch out for traps they could plant.
I reached Peony Castle and climbed the stairs, each step heavy with dread. I'd just reached my chambers when Virella and Sireen appeared.
"Oh, good. You're still intact," Virella said, her green eyes scanning me for any injuries.
"You wouldn't believe what I overheard," I sighed.
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