Page 159 of Lady of the Drowned Empire

I rested my hand on his arm, barely daring to breathe.

Rhyan shook his head again, his eyes watering. “I said no. But I was nine, and he was a senator. He took my hand and placed it…over his tunic, just held it there, for a few seconds. That was all.”

“That was too much,” I said violently.

He coughed. “The door opened, and sentries came in with my father. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I knew it was wrong, and thought I’d be in trouble. I was always in trouble. I pulled my hand away. But my father saw. I know he did. I know he knew what happened. He looked at me and frowned and chided me for keeping the senator from more important duties. And,” Rhyan laughed, the sound hollow and mirthless, “he thanked the senator. Thanked him for entertaining me, admitting I’d needed the attention, said he’d been charitable to even look at me. He sent me to bed. I washed my hands. Washed them a long time. But even after, my palm itched. Sometimes it still does.”

I’d seen him itch his hand before when he was upset about his father, when he fell back into the mindset of the old Rhyan, the Rhyan who had been powerless and alone, the Rhyan who hadn’t torn the rope yet.

I traced the veins of his forearm back under my shirt, to where his hand still rested against my stomach. He stilled as I took his hand in mine, and rubbed circles against his knuckles with my thumb.

“I only ever saw the senator a few times after that, mainly at state dinners, Valyati, a handful of Revelation Ceremonies. He never approached me again. And I didn’t face him until I was forsworn. I…I don’t know what I was thinking, I had no plan—just get out of Glemaria, past the border, past my father’s soturi. I thought I might find sanctuary in Hartavia—I had familial connections, an aunt and uncle. I didn’t want to stay, I just wanted an arkasva to vouch for me, to add one more step between me and my father.” Rhyan took a deep breath, watching me carefully.

I continued stroking his hand.

“But the High Lord of Hartavia publicly called me a whore, and the senator watched me from the Seating Room with horrified eyes, acting like I’d victimized him. Accusing me of propositioning him, convincing him to protect me in exchange for favors. That’s how the rumor started. That’s the whole story. I guess it took a while before it made its way down south. It was small, and I know it’s nothing like what you—but….”

“No. Don’t.” I pressed my lips to his palm—to the places he tended to scratch, the places where the senator had defiled him—wanting to kiss away every itch, every memory, every touch he hadn’t wanted. “Don’t minimize it.”

“I never told anyone about that—what happened.” Rhyan shuddered against me, and I kissed him again, down his palm to his wrist and forearm, before he grabbed my chin and pulled my lips against his.

“I’m so sorry,” I told him. “It wasn’t your fault. And it matters. It’s not too small a thing, what happened to you.”

A fresh tear fell down his cheek.

“We’re in this together,” I said. “We’re going to get through this together.”

“We are,” Rhyan said.

I swallowed. “Do you think…do you think anyone suspects…anyone knows anything? About earlier?” We were already on the run from Bamaria. But Rhyan breaking me out of the Shadow Stronghold to find my sisters was quite a different crime than him killing the son of Korteria’s warlord, and three of his men.

“I went out,” Rhyan said quietly. “After you fell asleep. Stalking around the city, listening. Word just reached here of their deaths.”

I sucked in a breath. “Fuck.”

“Our names weren’t mentioned. The official story is that they attacked each other. Brockton allegedly tracked the soturi that were hiding from the akadim fight. I was listening—all day to them through the stone. You were right—he wasn’t supposed to be home. I don’t think he told anyone about you.”

“What if the others did? Or someone in the keep saw? Servants see so much more than they get credit for. They talk.” That was why we had to send all of ours away after Meera’s vorakh was revealed.

“Then we’ll deal with it,” he said.

“Rhyan?” My voice shook. I’d been thinking over Brockton’s words again and again.

She's alive. But if I die, she dies, too.

We’d never seen a body or proof of her death. I’d just accepted it. Everyone had. She’d gone through exactly what we’d been told would happen to vorakh our entire lives.

But Brockton’s words….

Rhyan was watching me carefully.

“Jules,” I said weakly. “Do you think…” My chest heaved, I could barely get the words out. “Do you think we were lied to? That she’s alive?”

Rhyan’s eyes grew distant, and he took a long time to respond. “I want to say no. But…I don’t know anymore. If she is, then….” His chest heaved, and he had a haunted look on his face. Then we’d let her suffer alone for two years.

He squeezed my hand. “Anything is possible.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO