Page 90 of Lady of the Drowned Empire

I averted my gaze, barely noticing when Rhyan’s father took both of my hands. He placed one on his broad shoulder, and the other, he squeezed between his fingers, his hold far too tight.

Tears sprang again to my eyes.

“Your highness,” I said. “Your grip is…a bit tight.”

“Too tight for an Imperator?” he asked. “Tight enough for an arkturion?” His grip was unrelenting as he pushed me back.

I stumbled, trying to remember the steps amidst the pain. “Please,” I said, nearly stepping on my gown. “You would have been stellar in any role. That’s why you’re Arkasva of Glemaria,” I winced, “Imperator of the North.”

He softened at once and laughed as if it had all been a silly game. “My lady. I was testing you.” He poked my nose with his finger, something a father might do to a child. “You killed an akadim. Surely, some hand holding wouldn’t bother you.”

I breathed through my nose, my stomach knotting with panic. Gods. Was this what Rhyan had faced growing up? Constantly shifting moods? A second-by-second change of humor to violence? Not knowing how his father would react, not being able to predict the correct way to respond? My heart was racing at just minutes of this.

“Back to my query,” he said, serious again. “You are in a predicament, my lady. No longer heir and without power.”

My eyes flicked back to his hilt as he spoke. I could feel the moment his eyes tracked mine, and I looked down at my dress, pretending to inspect the folds of my gown. I removed my hand from his shoulder to adjust the material. But anger was vibrating off of him, and I knew he’d noticed where my gaze had been, that he wasn’t buying my game.

“I seem to have something you want,” he said. “Perhaps, it is,” he grabbed my chin, lifting my face toward his, “something you need?”

“Your highness,” I said, keeping my voice light.

“I hear Imperator Kormac was inquiring about a marriage contract for you. But you should know, my lady, that I once spoke to your mother about such a thing. And your father upon my last visit. I know you would like to honor their wishes and both felt strongly you were a match for the north.”

“Oh,” I said, feigning ignorance.

“I would grant you what you seek if you were to agree to a Glemarian union.”

There was only one Glemarian I’d ever marry, and I knew he’d never suggest it.

“A union with whom, your highness?”

His nostrils flared as he watched me, a knowing look in his expression, before he looked away. “You could have your say amongst the eligible suitors. And I’ll make you a wedding present. The star you so fancy on my sword.”

“I shall think on it,” I said. “But as I mentioned, I’m not really looking to marry soon.”

“You have less time than you think. You no longer have your title to keep you safe—to push off contracts for the sake of politics. Nor will the excuse of your eldest’s sister singleness protect you. You will be married sooner than you think. What kept you safe will now be used against you. Your new arkasva must secure alliances. It is simply the way. I, at least, offer you something in return.”

“I still would like to think about it.”

“You’ll need to be quick about it. You’re not safe here, you know? Not from them. And not from me. Unfortunately, you no longer have your little protector to keep you safe.”

“My protector?” I asked.

“Rhyan,” he said, his voice a cold threat.

His father spun me across the floor, his movements picking up speed, my feet tripping to keep up as I danced backwards and in circles.

“Did he never tell you?” he asked.

“Tell me what, your highness?” I was starting to feel nauseated by the whole conversation and dance.

“Your father was about to have you married to our warlord, a most honorable man. But your apprentice did not like this. He threw quite a fit before me.”

And I had to…had to do some negotiating to force him to end the marriage discussions.

My stomach twisted. “What did you do to him?” I asked, unable to stop my voice from going low.

“He had his Birth Bind put back in place—there was a need to quell his power. But that wasn’t enough for his defiance. So he was bound again. Black ropes all across his body, his arms and legs. No one could see, of course, but him and me. He wore them for months, his skin heated and itchy, his power contained. Nearly drove him farther than Lethea.”