Chapter Eleven
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Scarlett
My hand hovered above the golden handle.
Every time I came here, I found myself frozen with indecision. Battling the urge to walk away – while I still could.
But it was too late for that. To claim real power, I would have to take it. By any means necessary.
I turned the handle.
The workroom beyond was a mess. Jars and vials were spread across the benches, filled with murky liquids, lumps of human flesh and misshapen organs. I shuddered as I passed a string of human teeth suspended inside a wine decanter. Probably a potion of some kind.
Zandri turned at my approach, fixing me with her tar-black eyes. ‘You’ve been neglecting your studies.’
There was no good answer to that, so I said nothing. My mother enjoyed experimenting with the limits of her power; it was the reason she spent so much of her time in this austere tower, where she wouldn’t be interrupted by visitors or servants. To her great displeasure, I didn’t share the same fascination.
‘What are you working on?’ I asked, peering over her shoulder.
Almost immediately, I wished I hadn’t. A raven was laid out on the table, and it wasn’t moving.
I must not have concealed my distaste fast enough, because Zandri’s thin red lips pursed in displeasure.
‘Come here,’ she instructed, beckoning with a slender, impatient hand.
I hesitated when I saw the ceremonial dagger, silver and sharp, dangling from her fingers. ‘I didn’t come here for magic lessons.’
‘No,’ Zandri agreed. ‘You came here because you ran out of options.’
‘Well, I’m here now,’ I said, refusing to grovel. ‘I need your help to deal with Roran – and Governor Halvor.’
Zandri’s eyes flicked towards the ceiling, as if she were praying for patience. ‘Roran is hardly your most pressing concern.’
‘Roran is the crown prince. With him gone and Cassius sidelined, I would become my father’s heir—’
‘After all this time, you don’t know your father at all. Even if you weren’t engaged to the governor, Kalias would shackle you to another man of his choosing, and that man would be his successor. You would find yourself as trapped as you are now – and I would find myself with yet another mess to deal with.’
The harshness of her words hit me like a slap. As did the truth of them.
I felt the weight of my mother’s stare on me, but I didn’t meet it. There were two things Zandri couldn’t tolerate: stupidity and naivety, and I had been guilty of both.
‘The only way you will ever have true power, Scarlett,’ she continued, ‘is if your father dies. Then, during the mourning period, we can turn our attention to Roran and Cassius. Not to mention all the tedious political manoeuvring it will take to win over the court.’
I swallowed. Zandri had never stated her intentions quite so baldly before, and they gave me pause. But wasn’t that the reason I had come to her, knowing what Zandri had done to her own family? So that she would give me permission to make an equally monstrous choice?
I allowed myself one final hesitation. If I agreed to this, there would be no turning back. Either the emperor would die – or we would.
But the guilt I was expecting didn’t come.
‘What’s your plan?’
Zandri smiled – the thin-lipped smile that had terrified me as a child. ‘The blood oath Kalias forced me to swear prevents me from killing him, or forcing someone to do it on my behalf. But now that Severin has ingratiated himself with your father, Kalias is vulnerable.’
Only years of practice kept my expression unreadable. If he even suspected Severin was plotting against him . . .
‘My father has ways of ensuring Severin’s loyalty—’
‘—and I have mine,’ Zandri finished. ‘Regardless, we can’t act until he Sees a future in which Kalias will fall. But when he does . . . there will be someone who can commit the murder in my stead. Perhaps even you.’ Her dark eyes glittered as she studied me, then the lifeless bird lying on the table.
Before I could protest, the tip of Zandri’s dagger pierced my palm. I winced as a drop of blood fell onto the bird’s plumage.
My pulse faltered as the raven’s heart began to beat once more, its wings flapping against the bench. Though I’d seen this done previously – mostly on rats and mice – there was something mesmerising about the way the bird fixed me with its intelligent black eyes.
‘It’s beautiful,’ I whispered.
‘It is,’ Zandri agreed, but she wasn’t looking at the raven. She was looking at my hand, where blood welled against my pale skin.
I followed her gaze down to the droplets of red. Blood magic was powerful – powerful enough to have allowed Zandri to create the Ravalian Orders. But I preferred the illusion magic I’d been born with – which wasn’t associated with unpleasant memories.
As if she was thinking along similar lines, Zandri murmured, ‘Blood magic requires sacrifice.’
I smiled mirthlessly at the thought. Deep in my bones, I knew what I had sacrificed to access this power. I had sacrificed the most precious thing of all: my life.
What are we? I wanted to ask the bird. Are we real, or are we artifice?
But, of course, it didn’t have the answer. Neither of us did.
‘Severin brought some useful information back from his travels,’ Zandri said suddenly, and I looked up, the raven momentarily forgotten. ‘I will be leaving tonight for the Elusive Isles.’
‘What’s so important that you have to go in person?’
‘Let me worry about that.’ Zandri’s eyes gleamed. ‘You just focus on the governor. In my absence, I’m trusting you to deal with him.’
I didn’t like the idea of murdering Governor Halvor, but I knew better than to say so. Zandri would see it as a weakness – and, in the Ravalian Court, any weakness was quickly exploited.
Thankfully, Zandri seemed to take my silence as assent. ‘Would you like me to summon an attendant?’
Ravalian attendants were talented in all manner of skills. Their abilities in beautifying were close to magical, but I had no desire to be around strangers right now.
‘No. You can do it.’
My mother smiled, a self-satisfied smile that I ignored. Climbing the stairs to her personal chambers, I took a seat in front of the vanity mirror. With her reflection so close to mine, the similarities between us were obvious – we had the same angular features, high cheekbones and proud faces. But while she had inherited the Sorceress’s dark hair and eyes, the emperor was present in my red hair and lighter skin. However slight, I knew those differences were just another disappointment to Zandri.
But tonight, she seemed determined to play the supportive mother. I was surprised at how comforting it felt for her to take over Aella’s usual role, sweeping bronze powder over my skin and rubbing rouge into my cheeks.
‘The perfect consort,’ Zandri pronounced with an ironic smile, her clever fingers arranging my hair around a silver diadem. ‘I’m sure the governor will agree.’ Dark, assessing eyes met mine in the mirror.
And I realised that my earlier hesitation hadn’t gone unnoticed at all.
‘He won’t be a problem,’ I said stiffly.
Zandri reached up, pinning the last of my hair. As she did, her sharp nails bit into my skin, just hard enough to be uncomfortable.
‘I’m sure he won’t.’