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Chapter Two

Annora

My chest aches as I make my way to Asha’s study. When I reach the door, I pause, gulp in a quick breath, then push it open.

Asha sits at her desk, her head bowed over something in her hands, and as I step closer, I recognize the sketch of her son.

“Asha,” I say in a soft voice, not wanting to startle her.

Tears glisten in her blue eyes as she glances up. “What are you doing in here, Annora?”

She sniffs and sets the image down. My lungs squeeze as I stare at that beautiful drawing of my nephew. He shouldn’t have died so young.

Focus.

I exhale and concentrate on the reason why I came to Asha’s study. “I need to ask you something.”

Wariness settles in her eyes as she leans back against her chair. “What is it?”

“Why are you working with Aleksander?” The words keep tumbling out of me. “You hate House of Crimson. You’ve always hated them. So, why are you working with him?”

She sighs. “On my own, I can never defeat House of Crimson, but with Aleksander, I know we can win.”

“But at what cost? Emerin is being held prisoner, and Aleksander is using her to control me. How can you justify that?”

Wood scrapes against marble as Asha pushes her chair back and stands. “I’m doing what I have to do. For our people. For our future.”

“What about Emerin’s future? Her safety? Her well-being?”

“Sacrifices must be made for the greater good.” How cold Asha’s voice is. How unyielding. As if she’s a stone wall incapable of showing any emotions. “You, of all people, should understand that.”

My heart sinks to the floor. “Emerin isn’t a sacrifice. She’s our sister. Our sister, Asha.”

“Do you not think I don’t know that?”

“You used to protect us. What changed?”

Asha’s jaw tightens. “ Everything changed. I grew up. I learned that sometimes we have to make hard choices.”

“This isn’t a hard choice. This is wrong.”

“You’re too soft. You always have been.” She walks to the window. “The world isn’t kind. It isn’t fair. And if we want to survive, we must be willing to do whatever it takes.”

Heat rises in my chest. “I’m not being soft. I’m being human.”

She turns back to me. “Your humanity, your compassion—it’s what got us into this mess in the first place.”

“No.” I slam my hand on her desk, making the inkwell rattle. “Your alliance with Aleksander got us into this mess. Your choice to trust someone who’s proven that he can’t be trusted.”

“You don’t understand—”

“—I understand perfectly. You’re so focused on defeating House of Crimson that you’ve forgotten everything else.”

Asha’s expression hardens further. “This is the only way to ensure our freedom from House of Crimson’s tyranny.”

“There is no tyranny. Jasce isn’t like his father.”

Bitterness sparks in her eyes and lingers in her words. “You’re only saying that because you’re convinced that you’re in love with him. You’re blinded by him, Annora. Can’t you see that?”

“I am not. My feelings for Jasce are real and genuine.”

Her expression changes, turning harder, edgier. “Go away. I cannot stand to look at you right now.”

Instead of listening to her, I place my palms flat against her desk and lock my eyes with hers. “You cannot stand to look at me because if you did, you would have to admit that you are being selfish. You only care about yourself and your own agenda, just like our grandfather did.”

“Get out,” she says, her tone cold enough to freeze my heart. “I won’t listen to another word of this nonsense.”

I hold my ground, refusing to flinch. “Or what? Will you kill me? Threaten me? Threaten Emerin? What will you do, Asha?”

She balls her hands into fists. “Do not tempt me to draw my sword. We both know you would lose.”

“No, you would lose,” I say, my determination and anger fueling me. “Because if you stabbed me, you would never forgive yourself.”

Something softens in her expression before she snaps her gaze away, pinning it to the window.

“I know the truth, Asha. You cannot stand the person you’ve become, but you’ve already gone too far to change.” Sadness etches deep into my chest as I push open her door and step into the corridor, leaving her staring at the window.