Page 4 of Lady of the Drowned Empire

You can drink yourself to oblivion if you want. Smoke moonleaves until you’re higher than a seraphim. I have another method to ease your suffering. His words were like a caress in my mind.

What method? I asked, my throat dry.

Let me come to you. Let me show you.

You said you wouldn’t show yourself to me.

There was a smile in his words as he thought, I won’t. It’s dark.

How do I know you won’t hurt me? I crossed my arms over my chest, a chill spreading across my body. The hairs on my arms stood on end.

If I wished you harm, I’d have let you be. Watched you climb to the top of your little tower and fall. You’re the only one trying to hurt yourself tonight, acting out, imagining blades on your skin, falling, hiding from your fate. You’re acting as scared as a helpless kitten.

I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn’t let him come to me alone, but what other option did I have? I couldn’t explain this to an escort. Certainly not to Meera, definitely not Lyr. Not without them becoming suspicious and scared and hurting my head with their thoughts more than they already had.

This was a bad idea. Too dangerous. Too unknown.

And yet, as much as I was afraid, something inside me wanted to say yes.

If this was a trap, if he were to hurt me, to kill me…. I squeezed my hands into fists, my nails cutting into my palms. Lyr had things under control. She’d care for Meera—far better than I would. I wasn’t necessary. I wasn’t needed. And I couldn’t take much more of this pain.

How will you get into the fortress? I asked. We’re surrounded by walls, guards. Only one entrance will open. The rest are warded and have been impenetrable for a thousand years.

I’m aware of Cresthaven’s protections.

Are you Ka Batavia? I asked.

I am beyond the Kavim.

Lumerian? I asked.

I consider myself beyond that as well.

I frowned. Afeya?

Don’t insult me.

Then don’t come.

I'm afraid it’s far too late for that.

There was a knock on my door, the thud loud enough to steal my breath. I stepped back as wind gushed through the doors of my balcony, swirling my black gown against my bare feet.

“Lyr?” I called, my voice shaking. “Meera?”

You’re vorakh. You’d have heard your sisters approach. You know Godsdamned well it’s me.

I stepped back, shocked he was inside the fortress, shocked he’d gotten so close so quickly. There are guards downstairs.

A fine threat indeed. I walked right past them as I came inside your little fortress. I’ll walk past them again when I leave.

The backs of my legs hit the bed. I stared down at my discarded diadem at the edge of the covers. Nothing else was in sight to use to fight—

I told you I wouldn’t hurt you. But you’re well on your way to doing that on your own.

I don’t trust you, I thought, fear overriding my desperation.

That’s good, came his response. You shouldn’t trust anyone. Men lie. Most often to themselves. Thoughts aren’t truths. Just thoughts.