Page 33 of Lady of the Drowned Empire

I blinked, my mouth going dry as I realized we were meant to bow before Arianna now. And Naria.

Small tremors in my legs kept me from following through at first. Something red and hot and full of rage burned through my blood at just the thought of giving them this courtesy. But the Imperator’s aura was striking, biting, and I had no choice.

I gripped the skirt of my gown once more, sinking into a perfectly practiced curtsey beside my sisters.

Arianna waved us off as if this were unnecessary, but I caught the smallest hint of a smile forming on the corner of her lips. I saw the lie clearly now.

“It’s a historic morning. Changing the line of succession in Bamaria. Are you three ready?” the Imperator asked, his eyes roving back to me.

I rolled my shoulders back. I hadn’t left my room until now—hadn’t had breakfast—and I was starting to feel a mix of hunger and nausea. Stepping forward, I offered a nod. I was ready to get this over with.

But a commotion came at the front doors, and I caught the end of an argument taking place between two men. Euston strode in looking flustered, a mage at his heels. “Mage Bellamy, private escort to Lord Tristan Grey,” he announced. “For the Lady Lyriana.”

I froze. I’d been paying Bellamy for months to keep from Tristan my movements. He’d even helped me escape from Days of Shadows with Meera in my arms, in the thrall of a vision—though he didn’t know what was going on—only that I needed to leave with her. What in Lumeria was he doing here now?

“We’re busy,” the Imperator said. “Did no one inform his lord of the morning’s events? Come back later.”

Bellamy bowed quickly to the Imperator and then turned, bowing before Arianna. He did not bow to Naria, but he gave her a long look, his eyes narrowed. “Your highness. Your…your grace,” he said, as if unsure of Arianna’s current title. “I apologize for the intrusion. I was tasked with delivering a message to the Lady Lyriana before the morning’s event. Not after.”

I stepped forward, heart pounding. Had he truly come with a message from Tristan? Or was he coming personally to warn me of something else, something about the arrangement I had with him? Had Tristan found out?

I lifted my chin, taking another step forward. Whatever this was, it was important. “I will hear it.”

“You will not,” said the Imperator. “Lord Tristan may approach the lady at the conclusion of our announcement.”

Bellamy persisted. “My lord said not to return without delivering.”

“You will not return at all unless you leave now. We have a schedule. In mere minutes, the Lady Lyriana Batavia will not be an heir anymore. And these urgent matters between her and his lord will cease.”

Naria giggled, the sound grating in my ears.

At the jerk of the Imperator’s head, a rather frog-faced soturion standing behind him sprang forward, sneering.

Bellamy looked desperately to me, his chest heaving, but even he wasn’t paid enough to suffer a beating from a Kormac soturion. I nodded for him to go.

I eyed Morgana. Did you hear?

She blinked, looking away from me, her eyes fixed with venom on Naria before she shook her head.

Morgs?

Her eyes found mine, and she shook her head again, her message clear. Not now.

What the hell else in Lumeria was going on?

Naria laughed while adjusting her red velvet gloves. “Don’t worry, Lyr. You’ll find out.”

“And how would you know Lord Tristan’s personal business?” I snapped.

A wide yet and sinister grin spread across Naria’s face as she stalked toward me. “Cousin,” she said, her eyes flicking up and down my body, “you forgot to say, ‘your grace’.”

“I believe that was you,” I said under my breath. “I still wear the diadem. I am still Heir to the Arkasva.”

“Heir to the Arkasva, High Lord of Bamaria,” she crooned. “But we don’t have a High Lord, do we? He’s—”

“Shut your fucking face,” Morgana snapped.

“What did you say to me?” There was glee in Naria’s voice. She was getting pleasure from this.