Page 63 of Lady of the Drowned Empire

“So this is it? We’re over just like that? You’re marrying her?”

He shrugged. “It’s what has to be.”

My heart squeezed. I was surprised at how much this hurt and, at the same time, how relieved I was to be free. “I am sorry I hurt you,” I whispered, my voice shaking.

“That’s why I came here. If I thought for one second you felt different, that this was—that you felt something more—I would have fought for you. I want you to know that. And not like last time. I would have thought it through. I would have seen it through. But I had to know. And now I do.” He ran his fingers through his hair again. “I never thought I’d…fuck.I never thought I’d lose both of you. Two of my best friends. Not like this.” He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, squeezing.

Two of his best friends. Me and Haleika.

He went to the door and had his hand on the doorknob before he froze, his back stiff. “Lyr? Was this how it felt?”

“How what felt?”

His shoulders drooped, as sorrow and guilt permeated his aura, sweeping toward me until I felt weighed down and nauseated by it. “When you lost Jules? This sorrow and anger and…hopelessness. This sense of injustice and….” He shook his head.

I sniffled, knowing exactly what he meant—knowing all the feelings and emotions he hadn’t named. “Yes.” The word came out a whisper.

“I told you she was supposed to die,” he said, his voice breaking.

“You did.”

He shook his head again, and then he was gone, the door closing softly behind him.

I stared at the door, seething. Afraid. Guilty.

I wanted to fight. I wanted to hit something. Or yell and scream. I was filled with such fury over the situation, over how helpless I felt, over my role in everything, over the way that no matter how hard I tried, I was still a pawn. The wards protecting my apartment hummed, buzzing with magic. It was a constant sound that I’d grown accustomed to these past months, ever since Arianna had put up new protections and enchantments to protect me from the Emartis.

Now the sound was driving me farther than Lethea. It was full of her essence. Her magic. Her touch. Her evil. I felt like she was watching me, sitting in here with me, spying. Laughing.

I needed to get out. I needed to do something before I burst.

Night had fallen. I headed out of my apartment building, walking listlessly through the streets of Urtavia. I knew Markan and at least three other escorts were following close behind. It was reckless. But I couldn’t stay still. Couldn’t lay in my bed and fall apart—I wasn’t sure if I could be put back together. I stopped at a restaurant I’d gone to once before with Tristan and Haleika.

The owner knew me at once and offered a table. But a whisper of shekar arkasva and a table full of patrons recognizing and staring at me had me heading back for the door. I didn’t know if they were Emartis, if they’d been there, if they’d killed my father.

I didn’t want to know.

I walked out. There wasn’t one place safe for me. Nowhere I could go unrecognized or without fear of meeting my father’s killers or facing memories of Tristan or Haleika.

I ended up at the Katurium, my appetite gone and a nervous energy running through me. I just wanted to run, for once. I wanted to feel the cold on my face, the wind in my hair. The ground as my feet slammed into it. But one step into the arena, and I was pulled back into that night.

Haleika’s screams. Her body burning. Rhyan’s sword swinging. The thud of her head hitting the ground. The cheers and cries in the arena. My father falling. The sickening sound. His body broken and twisted. His eyes wide and filled with horror and finding me. The cold on my skin. The knowledge that he was dead, saying goodbye with that one look before he closed his eyes forever.

I slammed the door of the Katurium shut and ran through the halls until I was in our training room. It was empty because Rhyan was gone.

The room carried a light scent—his scent. I could feel him all over as I locked the door and sank down onto a mat, my back against the wall, knees drawn up to my chest. I pulled the vadati stone from my waistlet, letting it roll against my palm, cool and nearly translucent white. I closed my eyes, listening for sounds of anyone beyond my guard in the building. But I was alone.

I lifted the stone to my mouth.

“Rhyan,” I whispered, my voice desperate. Immediately, the stone began to glow, blue light surging from within. It warmed in my hand, and I waited, holding my breath.

But a moment passed, and the light faded, no longer swirling with the glow of Lumerian magic. The stone filled instead with a milky white and then cleared, cooling against my palm.

I released a sob, squeezing the stone in my fist and burying my face into my knees.

And then it warmed, blue light escaping in tiny slivers from between my fingers.

“Lyr?” Rhyan’s voice was low and muffled in my hand.