Chapter 11 #2
But the stone remained cool in my hand. She couldn’t hear me.
“Hand it back,” he said.
I returned the stone, feeling deflated.
“Tomorrow you’ll go before the people of Bamaria, tell them the new policy.
Mandatory testing for vorakh, as well as checkpoints, will be in place by the end of the week.
Everyone will be tested again, and subject to further testing at random.
Anyone who fails to comply will be assumed to be hiding vorakh, and arrested on the spot. ”
My heart thundered, and I nodded. I was no longer just the Emperor’s dog, scenting out vorakh for him to take control of in the Palace.
I was now his puppet, too. Running when he said run.
Jumping when he said jump. Forcing nahashim tests on anyone his soturi wanted—whether I found vorakh on them or not.
No matter what I did now, I’d be betraying someone.
An innocent Lumerian. Or an innocent vorakh.
“See him to his bed, Lady Romula. Make sure he gets some sleep so he can speak nice and clear tomorrow. Emperor’s orders.”
“Of course.” She frowned, her too-red lips were thin and dry as she pursed them together.
His eyes narrowed on me. “And we’ll get someone to finish cleaning up your face.”
When he was out of the room, the door closed and locked behind me, and one of her silencing spells in place, my grandmother turned to me. Her hand flew before I could react, slapping me across the cheek. Slapping wounds that still smarted and burned. I stumbled, practically slamming into the wall.
“Grandmother,” I cried out. “What the—”
“Is it true?” she asked, her voice cold. “You helped the murderer escape?”
“My fucking hand is broken and Galen is dead!”
“As he should be. You idiot. How dare you disgrace the Ka. Our name. Our legacy! You are so Godsdamned lucky that your title and status saved you. After the stunt you pulled, after the scum you associated with, you should be dead now.”
I saw Galen’s eyes closing in my mind. Felt the cold air on my broken body as I took off my shirt. The rage inside me as I let my pants fall down. I could hear the Emperor’s laugh still. See his hands on Jules. The chayatim I’d sentenced. The Yellow Room.
The monster who killed my parents.
You’ll regret it when he grows. When you see inside his soul like I have. When you learn what he is!
I shook my head. “I wish I was dead.”
She grabbed my neck, squeezing and forcing my gaze to hers. “Hush! You’re confused. He got you confused.”
I coughed, starting to choke—my ribs moving painfully. “I’m confused? Look at you! Or better yet, look at me! Look what they’ve done to me! Are you even going to ask if I’m all right?”
She released her hold, her nostrils flaring. “You’re fine. You’re alive.”
“And the Bastardmaker’s slave!”
She clucked her tongue. “My dear boy. We are all someone’s slave until we rise above them.
And you, you and your lowborn associations, you are what put us into this mess.
I never liked that boy. That Galen. Ka Scholar,” she spat.
“He wasn’t for you. He was dragging you down.
Now you listen to me, and you listen well.
So you must obey his orders—then you will.
But you won’t have to do it forever. We are poised for power.
I am Master of the Horse, the Arkasva’s Second and if you play your cards right, you will be Arkasva.
Not that Naria. We are close. So close. But we cannot afford one more misstep. ”
“One more misstep? One more misstep!” I shouted.
As if I’d just been making the wrong choice all along.
As if it were my fault, and not our sick fucking evil Emperor pulling the strings all this time.
Lying and manipulating me. Torturing me.
And now, making me a puppet to go around my own country spewing out his lies.
Fulfilling his agenda. I’d be forced to go even more against who I was.
Capturing innocent people as the head of his Godsdamned vorakh task force.
My grandmother sneered. “Just be glad now that that boy is gone. And his association is linked with that traitor Lyriana and her dead forsworn lover.” She folded her arms across her chest. “It taints Arianna, too, you know. But not us. We’re safe.
Let’s forget this ugliness, shall we? Oh, Tristan.
Do not look at me like that. I am protecting you. ”
“Protecting me? You’re protecting yourself,” I said. She always was. It was always about her—her and her legacy, her name. I’d just been the last one to see it. To see that I wasn’t someone she loved. I was a tool, a means to an end. A way to carry out her ambitions.
And if I did all she asked, I wouldn’t be free. At best, I’d just be enslaved to her—like I always was.
“All will be well, my dear,” she continued.
“You’ll see. You’re very tired, and injured, you’re not thinking straight.
Go to bed now. Rest, heal. You can’t just keep wearing glamours.
We’ll start to take our power back tomorrow, when you can present yourself in a manner worthy of Ka Grey.
And then I promise you, you won’t suffer like this again. I won’t allow it.”
I blinked back the tears blurring my vision, my stomach twisting. “As you wish, Grandmother.” Always as you wish.
She nodded, satisfied, and left me alone. I was sinking against the wall, crying into my fist.
My chest tightened, cold washing over me. My teeth chattered.
The cold. I knew that cold. No. No. No.
Not a vision, not now. Please. Please!
The chills continued, my breathing shallow.
It took me a few minutes, but I realized, it wasn’t a vision.
It was something else. Panic. Breathing was becoming difficult.
I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to scream and cry and run after my grandmother and beg her to take care of me—yet some dark part of me hoped I found her at the top of the stairs, so I could push her down.
I clutched at my chest with my unbroken hand, unable to stop my teeth from chattering. My vision blurred, my heart racing so fast it hurt. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t get enough air. Not inside these four walls, not inside this room. Everything was tight, everything hurt.
I couldn’t be in here, couldn’t stay here.
I was out in the hall a moment later, stumbling like a drunk, one hand to support me against the wall as I walked aimlessly, moving without thinking, heading toward the corridors which lead into the Heir’s wing.
The freezing cold washed over me, my teeth chattering. I was unbound, but I could barely do magic now. Not with my broken hand; not this injured or tired. I couldn’t stop shaking or stop the pain in my chest.
A minute later, I was aware of Eric and Bellamy, my loyal escorts trailing my shadow. They didn’t speak. I didn’t know any more if I could trust them. If their loyalty was to me, or just the coin my grandmother gave them.
I realized I hadn’t just been wandering. I’d come to a room. A room I didn’t even know I’d been searching for until I arrived and knocked.
A minute later, Naria opened the door, her blonde hair in a loose messy braid. She’d wrapped a robe around herself, her blue eyes fuzzy with sleep.
“Tristan?” she asked, then her eyes widened as she took me in. My injuries. My sling. The red in my eyes. The tears. She frowned. “What? What the hell’s going on with you? What are you doing here?” Her voice filled with disdain.
“Naria, I’m sorry,” I said, feeling the eyes of my escorts on my back. My stomach turned. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know what you’re doing here?” She placed her hand impatiently on her hip.
“I know we’re not—that we don’t—fuck.” I was trembling. “Please, just, can I come in?” I rested my head against the doorframe. “I don’t—didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
Her eyes narrowed, looking me up and down, then stopping on my broken hand, the splint, and the sling, before staring beyond me, flashing on Bellamy and Eric. She exhaled sharply and let out a sigh. “Fine. Come in.”
She closed the door behind me, took my uninjured arm and led me to the bed, sitting me down on the edge.
I burst into tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know we’re not—that we don’t. I just—I couldn’t be alone. I couldn’t be alone.”
She sat down wordlessly beside me. “Your stave?” she asked, sounding almost bored.
“My-my stave?”
“Yes. Pull it out,” she snapped.
“What?”
“Myself to fucking Moriel,” she hissed. “Cast a silencing spell.”
My eyes widened in confusion.
“I’m a soturion, I can’t do it,” she said. “Neither can my escorts.”
I nodded, suddenly understanding and retrieving the stave from my belt, casting the spell around the room with what little energy I had left.
When the small buzzing sound stopped, and faint blue light around the room stilled, I knew the spell was in place.
We couldn’t be heard.
“What happened to you?” Naria asked. “You’re hurt.”
“What do you think,” I gritted. I had no idea how I looked. But I was sure the glamour was completely gone now and I looked like shit.
“I mean,” her eyes flashed again on my hand, then slowly across my face, “do you need medical attention right now?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Okay,” she said quietly. “So you came here?”
“I just didn’t want to be alone.”
“You said.” She bit her lip, silent for a moment. “I heard about Galen.” She looked away. “It’s fucked up.”
My chest heaved. There was nothing to say to that. Because it was.
“I didn’t think I’d see you again after the Palace,” she continued. “Especially after what you did. Betraying the Emperor, escaping with Galen.”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” I said dully. “I didn’t think I’d be seen again either. Apparently my name and face were worth more than my crimes.”
Naria’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t say I was disappointed to see you again.” She frowned. “Is it true? You really ran with Lyr and the others? Or were you taken by them? Held hostage?”
“Depends on who you ask. The Emperor? The Bastardmaker? The Court of Bamaria?”