28. Chapter 25
Chapter 25
Raven
O nce the emperor arrived, it was all I could do just to breathe. This was the monster who killed my parents. Here before me in the flesh after cycles of dreaming.
And what a hideous monster he was.
He looked nothing like his second son, though he bore quite a resemblance to the first. Same eyes, the color of the northern sea. Same hair, the color of blood in piss, though the emperor’s had receded to the back of his head. His belly suggested he spent more time at meals than he did in the yards. He was not even tall. Not impressive at all, actually, if one were to remove the throne.
But there was one place where I could not fail to mark how dangerous he was, and that was in those cold eyes. They roved the room without feeling. Every person they scanned was just an object, a potential tool to be used.
Once Amon began his storytelling, that changed. Hatred flooded into those crystal clear eyes. All of hatred’s friends—disgust, fury, fear, and resentment—swirled like mud and shit in water. And when my father’s flag came out, the hatred rose to new heights.
As the emperor called for war and the courtiers pressing around me sneered at my father’s name, I dropped my vision and counted my breaths. They must not see my face transform. My mask must not drop.
I closed my eyes and the room disappeared. No more tile or white columns or gracefully arched windows. Only the old Threads that ran through the corpse of the dragon Kutha below remained. The crack in the stone was a brighter green than the rest, and pulsing, as if alive.
My Sight descended into the dungeons I called home during my childhood, sweeping the tight tunnels and carved-out caverns. It was a strange truth that I'd been happier here, in Eymen's care, than anywhere else I could remember. In a way, it was good to be back.
Below it all, where the Crust met Kutha's corpse, an opaque green light blocked my Sight. The light was blinding, brighter even than inside the Mother's Womb, and my Sight slid from it automatically. Something in me shuddered at the thought of trying to see through it and I never had, not in all my cycles living here. I didn't try now. I opened my eyes and brought my attention back to the throne room.
Now that I’d seen the emperor, I was glad I hadn’t settled for taking Caelan’s life. That would have been only a paltry shadow of revenge. No, I would take the life of the man who’d ordered my father’s execution. The man who’d actually taken everything from me. Then, my father would be proud.
When Caelan was called forward, I went with him. I stood a mere arm's-length from the emperor. My heart thudded with nervousness and impotent rage. I had no weapons and he was surrounded by protection. I could do nothing to him…but I could not make myself bow.
I forced myself to maintain a neutral face when the emperor’s eyes slid to me. Shifting faster than sands in a storm, they went from fury at his friend’s death to lewd curiosity. I noted this though I kept my lids lowered demurely. I hoped he attributed my shaking hands to nerves rather than rage.
“You haven’t taught her to bow?” the emperor said.
My heart skipped a beat, then began racing so fast, I felt dizzy. This was it. I had no choice now but to sink to my knees and honor the man who’d murdered my father and mother.
My mind screamed its resistance. But I’d chosen this. It was my path now. To bow so that I might then destroy.
Well, anything worth doing is worth doing right. I sank with all the grace I could muster into a deep bow. I bent forward and pressed my forehead to the cracked tile. And then I forced out the words that I hoped would capture the imagination of a killer.
“I apologize, Emperor, for my disrespect. I have never met an emperor and bowed only to the Father before this moment.”
Caelan’s immediate displeasure was obvious. I was already growing to know him; I felt his anger like heat on my skin. He did not like his brother looking at me and his father’s gaze was no better.
But it worked. I had the emperor's interest, which I could work to build into more interest, until one day, an opportunity presented itself…
But for now? Caelan was furious.
“Nobody speaks to the emperor without permission,” he growled in my ear after our audience was finished.
“He spoke to me first.”
“He spoke about you. To me. Because you’re mine. There’s no need for you to use your voice, ever, unless you speak with me.” Caelan had closed his hand over my upper arm. He intended the touch to appear casual, but he kept accidentally squeezing and then releasing his grip, not entirely able to hide his frustration with the attention I’d received.
I lowered my eyes with pretend humility. “I’m sorry, my prince. I am new to court. I’ll do better.” Was I overplaying it?
Caelan leaned in. "I'll be sure you do."
Amon was watching as Caelan practically dragged me out of the throne room. The corner of Amon's lip twitched up and his eyes undressed my body from across the room, making dark promises that I hoped he'd never get to keep.
The door to Caelan's suite had hardly closed when Caelan rounded on me. "On your knees."
A thrill spread out from my chest and heat and tightness flooded my core. Then the thoughts followed. A desire to say, "Fuck you, Slayer." The calculating knowledge that obedience best served my goals. Followed by the hot desire to obey. To sink to my knees and welcome whatever came.
I gave into it, knowing it served my agenda, telling myself that was why it was so easy to do.
"Good girl," Caelan said softly and a fresh tingle of heat spread through my limbs. "Now, bow."
I froze as understanding of his purpose crashed down on me. "This is practice for my next audience with your father?"
"If you ever have another audience with him after embarrassing me like that," Caelan said.
My temper flared and I fought to appear calm. I'd be damned if I let Caelan Havard compromise all my plans for his pride. I'd have to swallow back my own pride to ensure he didn't keep me away from his father. But I couldn't seem too agreeable.
"I bow to leaders who deserve it."
Caelan snorted. "And how many of those have you met?"
I swallowed back the words—one. And I didn't remember knowing him. My father.
"Do you know why my family wears the crown, Eave?"
"Because the Father, in his great wisdom, bestowed it on you?" I said with simpering fakeness.
"Stand up," Caelan said.
I gracefully rose while Caelan fetched something from a corner and placed it before my feet.
"Back down," he said.
I knelt without looking.
"No," he snapped. Knees on that." He pointed to the object and I looked at it for the first time.
Oh, the sadistic bastard.
It was a board made of rare wood painted in different bright colors. I thought it was a game. The board had been carved to look like sand dunes, with rises and falls in the wood's surface. It wouldn't cut my skin or damage me, but it would be hell to kneel on.
I glared up at Caelan but he only smiled cruelly. My eyes sparking rebellion, I slid onto the board, wincing instantly at the sharp pressure as it dug into the skin of my knees.
"Now, let's try this again," Caelan said softly. "I believe we were discussing the divine right to rule. You were telling me why my family has it. Would you like to adjust your answer?"
"No," I said through clenched teeth. The sharp edges of the wood felt like thorns piercing my kneecaps. But I was no coward.
"Good. Because it's the right one, though incomplete. The Father gave my family power, but we held onto it because we understand it. All that is required to wield power is power, Eave. Rightness and worthiness have nothing to do with it."
"As if I don't already fucking know that." I didn't mean for the words to come out, but it was getting hard to think. Pain blossomed across my knees like flowers in the wet season. My mind sank into a fog of bliss and agony.
But Caelan only seemed pleased by my frankness. "Good girl. Then, bow. Bow like you'll bow to my father."
Grinding my teeth against the combined forces of humiliation and agony, I sank into a deep bow. It shifted the weight on my knees, offering momentary relief. Until Caelan's boot pressed against my back, pushing down with the slightest pressure, driving me deeper onto the wooden board.
I cried out—I couldn't help it—and the pressure lessened as his boot disappeared.
"Good girl. Rise."
It wasn't so easy this time. I was shaky as blood and sensation rushed back into my compressed skin. I met Caelan's eyes as I rose to my feet and glimpsed only coldness on his face. His mask was firmly in place and I could not see past it. That, or else I'd really made him angry this time.
"Down," he said quietly.
And we went again. And again. And again.