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Nero cocks his head as his eyes slide up and down my form. “Orange veil, flower crown, stark white tunic, a belted knot of Hercules, and—” Without preamble, he reaches out and lifts my skirts. Memnon’s magic streams out of him then, and he takes an ominous step toward me and the emperor as Nero finishes, “Matching orange sandals. This looks to me like a fucking stolen bride.”

Nero’s eyes still have an unsettling gleam to them, but the levity he carried only moments before is gone when he drops my skirts and returns his attention to Memnon. If the emperor notices the Sarmatian king is now closer to him, he doesn’t let on, though Agrippina looks positively alarmed.

“So,” Nero continues, “I am perplexed when you say you are not interested in war. Because entering my city armed for battle and stealing away one of my citizens’ wives is a call to war.” The emperor’s eyes briefly flick to me again before returning to Memnon. “Should I view it as such, Sarmatian?”

Memnon stares the emperor down, his brown eyes almost luminous. Whatever hopes of diplomacy either man had, theyrapidly dwindle as Memnon’s magic begins to pour out of him, gathering like storm clouds around us.

“No,” Memnon says, “that was not an act of war.” His magic shoots out of him, the arms of it reaching across the room in an instant, enveloping Agrippina and the guards posted along the edges of the room.“This is.”

In unison, the eyes of Nero’s mother and his guards roll back, and their legs fold.

Body after body hits the ground with a dull thump, and I choke on a scream at the sight of them lying motionless on the floor, my knees growing weak.

Are they…dead?

No, merely unconscious, Memnon says, overhearing my thought.

Nero glances around him, aghast. “W-What have you done?” he demands, his voice rising. “Guards!”

Memnon steps into Nero’s space, and the young emperor stumbles back, then falls, hitting the marble floor hard.

Nero glares up at Memnon. “I shall have you whipped in the streets for this and your whole army crucified,” he declares, a panicked note to his voice.

Memnon bends down and threads his fingers through the emperor’s curly hair. “Will you?” he says, amused as he tilts Nero’s head back.

Then, to my horror, Memnon drags him upward, causing the young ruler to yelp and reach for his head, wriggling like a fish on a hook. “I would enjoy seeing your rotting corpse command my death,” Memnon says.

Nero tries to lunge for the Sarmatian king, but it does no good. Between Memnon’s magic and strength, it’s painfully obvious the foreign ruler is entirely in control.

Memnon jerks Nero’s head back again, baring his neck. “Look how vulnerable you are, mighty emperor. I could kill you—that might make a nice wedding gift for mystolenbride. I could make it slow, then force your men to fight one another so it looks like a rebellion from within your guardsmen.”

I stare at Memnon as though he’s a stranger. And that is the terrible truth. I never imagined him to be this cruel and calculated.

Nero is now visibly shaking, and for all his earlier confidence, he looks genuinely terrified. “What you’re saying is impossible.”

Memnon cocks his head, his hair stirring a little at the movement. “Is it?”

Over Nero’s shoulder, two of the unconscious guards begin to rise, their bodies limp. I stagger back at the macabre sight. Memnon’s magic churns around them, clearly propping them up. I’ve never considered using my power this way. I didn’t know it was even possible.

The moving bodies catch Nero’s attention, and I can see the whites of his eyes as he stares at the upright men with limp limbs.

The emperor returns his gaze to Memnon. “H-how are you doing that?” he asks, his voice wavering.

“Do you still intend to stop me?” Memnon says. I swear his eyes begin to glow.

In Nero’s own eyes, tears have formed. “Please…no. We can come to some sort of agreement.”

Memnon raises his brows.

“You can have the woman,” Nero adds.

“I want to believe you,” Memnon says, “but you do not strike me as a man of your word. Shame.” His power stirs up again.

Now I know I’m not mistaken—Memnon’s eyesareglowing.

“Wait!” Nero pleads. “Wait?—!”

But the light doesn’t dim from the Sarmatian king’s eyes. Strands of Memnon’s hair lift into the air.