Chapter Twenty
CHAPTER TWENTY
Scarlett
I hadn’t intended to save Mira’s life.
I had a complicated relationship with family, and there was no reason to believe Mira would be any different than Roran or Cassius. But the moment I realised who she was, the moment I understood what we were to each other . . . I hadn’t been able to watch her die.
Studying her slack face, I searched for the similarities I knew would be there. They were subtle, since I no longer shared her olive skin – but our pointed chins and almond-shaped eyes were the same. My gaze snagged on a constellation of freckles across her forehead. Such a small thing, but I found it endearing.
The coach went over a bump, and Mira’s eyes flew open.
I flinched back in surprise – I had leant further forward than I’d realised – and folded my hands in my lap.
‘It’s alright,’ I said, more gently than I’d intended. ‘My name is Scarlett. You have nothing to fear from me.’
Mira jerked upright from a set of plush cushions. Her hazel eyes took in the coach, pausing on the armoured men sitting opposite us.
‘What happened?’ she choked out, her gaze warily returning to me.
‘One of the Warriors used magic to knock you out. I told him it was unnecessary, but . . .’ I shrugged. ‘Sometimes, they can be a little overzealous. I had him reverse the effects once you were in the coach.’
Mira frowned, tilting her head like she was trying to work something out. I wondered whether she recognised me from the rooftop, or whether she was simply taking in my unnaturally pale skin. Most people stared at that first.
‘Why did you save me?’
‘I didn’t do it to be kind,’ I said, a hint of apology lacing my voice. I paused, irritated by the softness. More firmly, I added, ‘I knew the emperor would want to deal with you himself.’
There. A perfectly reasonable explanation, and one I could use on my mother, too – though she might still be furious.
But that was a problem for another time.
‘I remember,’ Mira said quietly, ‘but I don’t understand. What you called me . . .’
Hold your fire, I had shouted. That’s the princess!
I glanced at the Warriors, who could hear every word. This wasn’t the time for warmth, misguided or otherwise. And it definitely wasn’t the time to discuss our familial connection.
When I turned back to Mira, she was gazing at the circlet I wore – the one marking me as a member of the royal family. I knew she was wondering if we were related, trying to determine if she could be a Ravalian princess.
No such luck, I wanted to tell her, but I held my tongue. Mira would learn the truth soon enough.
‘When we arrive,’ I told her, ‘you’ll have your answers.’
Since I knew how intimidating I could appear when I wanted to be, I expected Mira to accept this in silence.
Instead, she lifted her chin. ‘At least tell me what happened to my mother,’ she said – more of a demand than a request. ‘I deserve that much.’
That was debatable, but I couldn’t see the harm in indulging her.
‘She’s still alive. You’ll have the chance to see her.’
Across from me, the two Warriors exchanged a heavy glance. Mira’s sharp eyes caught the movement, her hands balling into fists.
It was suddenly too difficult to look at Mira, so I looked outside instead. People stopped to point as the royal coach passed – emblazoned with an imperial lion, as befitted my station. The crowds thickened as we travelled further into the city, eager to catch a glimpse of the coach and its occupants.
As we continued down the Imperial Road, I noticed Mira’s face reflected in the glass. Her eyes were screwed shut, as if she was imagining herself somewhere else. It occurred to me that she must have had a home before this. A home she probably missed.
That brief moment of weakness warmed me to her. The more glimpses of vulnerability I saw, the harder it was to think of Mira as a potential threat. And the harder it would be to watch what came next.
The timing seemed especially cruel when the massive obsidian dome came into view. Though the paved road continued around the arena, the coach slowed to a graceful stop.
I wanted to ask Mira so many things. I was curious about her life, and the freedom she must have experienced before her mother’s past caught up with them. But then I thought of the woman beside her on that gangplank. The love and fear and desperation on her face.
At least Mira has a mother who loves her, I thought bitterly, and I had the sudden urge to drag her from the coach myself.
‘Time to go,’ I announced, turning to one of the Warriors inside the coach. ‘You know what to do.’
‘Yes, Your Highness.’ He picked up a set of manacles beneath the seat.
Mira didn’t try to fight him, even as realisation dawned on her paling face. She understood now, why we had stopped at the arena. Why the manacles were necessary. Why she hadn’t died in the harbour.
I hadn’t saved her at all. I’d only delayed her death—
So she could die alongside her mother.
I turned away from Mira, but not before I saw the condemnation burning in her eyes.