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Clarissa

I paced back and forth in front of the cell, clenching and unclenching my fists as Chaz questioned the cougar Shifter behind bars.

My friend’s broad shoulders cast a menacing shadow over the small cell with barely any moonlight streaming in through the circular, barred window.

His teeth gleamed against dark skin as he snarled at the man slumped on an overturned bucket.

“Who sent you tonight?” Chaz’s deep voice boomed in the quiet, dank space. “Who’s targeting Empress Aris?”

The man chuckled and shook his head, shaggy brown hair falling over his face. His shoulders moved up and down while his hands stayed tied with rope behind his back. “You think I’m afraid of you?” he muttered hoarsely. “A handful of amateurs trying to run an empire?”

“Amateur or not, I’ve got all night to make you purr, kitten,” Chaz crooned, ice coating his words. A dagger appeared in his hand. I held in a sigh—I knew some things had to come by force, but I tried to save violence as a last resort.

Well, in my human half. My fox half sometimes got away from me .

“Do your worst,” the cougar Shifter said simply. Then his tone darkened. “Trust me, I’ve seen it all.”

He jerked his neck to move hair out of his eyes, and when he did, my attention snagged on a long white scar stretching from below his ear to across his throat.

“Where’s that scar from?” I asked from the other side of the bars. Shifters didn’t have scars. Our healing abilities left nothing behind when we were injured.

The prisoner met my eyes from across the cell. “Like I said, I’m not afraid of you,” he rasped.

Fates, what was Drakorum doing to these people?

I had a friend, a dragon Shifter who grew up there, who recently told us how brutal Kane Scarven, the Drakorum governor, and those who served him could be.

He’d been vague about it, but I got the gist. Holding people captive—especially powerful people—and using them as weapons or spies, conducting experiments on them, keeping them from their families.

And with the way this cougar Shifter was acting, I bet they had some creative ways of keeping their subjects from betraying them.

That was the kind of man I was facing. Scarven had made it abundantly clear he didn’t want me in power. He didn’t approve of my regime, of my changes, of my way of ruling. And he was willing to take action to have me removed.

I held the Shifter’s stare for another second, then flicked my gaze to Chaz. “He’s not going to talk. Let him go.”

Chaz did a double take back at me. “Let him— what ? He just tried to kill you. And he did kill that woman.”

To my surprise, the prisoner flinched. “That was an accident,” he growled.

My hand balled into a fist at my side at the mention of the innocent woman. Part of me screamed that she deserved retribution. That her killer should pay the price in blood.

But I didn’t become the leader of the Sentinels by following a streak of vengeance. And I wasn’t going to become empress by putting down everyone who defied me.

“We will let him go.” I forced steadiness into my voice.

“He’ll go back to Drakorum with his tail between his legs and tell Scarven to stop sending his boys to do his dirty work.

It’s weak ,” I spat, reaching out and gripping the cell bars.

“And I don’t fear weakness, Shifter. Your governor can come after me himself. ”

I threw the wadded, bloody note from the arrow on the ground at his feet, then spun on my heels and left.

The gilded edges of the mirror in my vanity gleamed back at me as I ran a brush through my hair.

Everything about this room screamed of wealth and indulgence.

The porcelain basin in my wash room, the cotton towels that felt like clouds, the thin gold threads in my emerald comforter.

Eight months, and I still wasn’t used to it.

I often missed our little cottage in the woods.

When my father had given up his throne, we made a home for ourselves outside the hustle and bustle of the capital.

It was hard, yes, and more nights full of weariness and anxiety than comfort and contentment.

But it was the only home I’d ever known.

It was where Leo and I grew up, where we’d learned our magic—him with his Alchemy, his potions and spells, and me with my uncontrollable fox half.

It was where we mourned our father and watched our mother grow sick.

It was where we spent days without eating or sleeping, where the cold and hunger of the winter crept in on two unsuspecting teenagers.

It was where I dragged myself back, beaten and bruised by those who hated the Aris family and feared a young Shifter who couldn’t get a handle on her magic.

It was where we learned to fight.

It was where we started the Sentinels. It was where we took back our power.

It was funny how here, at the highest possible position, with more resources and people and praise at my disposal than I’d ever had before, was when I sometimes felt the smallest .

I set my brush down and stared into the onyx eyes shining at me from the mirror, thoughts swirling behind them. Mysthelm and this trip, the engagement, the council, Scarven’s continued attacks. The woman who died in my arms. How I hadn’t been able to stop it.

Pressing my forehead to the cool marble of the vanity, I took a deep breath.

Was I cut out for this? For all the good I’d hoped to do in this empire, people were still getting hurt.

People were still angry and restless. Perhaps this was the fate of every ruler.

You could never make everyone happy, could never force everyone to fall in line—not without becoming someone like Gayl.

My critics thought I was too passive. Too swayed by my feminine whims. Too placating and peaceful.

I’d let the assassin go tonight—something no other ruler would have done.

Maybe I’d come to regret that decision. Maybe I’d wake up in the middle of the night with a dagger in my chest. But giving that Shifter a taste of mercy would have more of an impact than punishment.

If mercy made me passive or weak , then so be it.

Clarissa Aris, the weakest empress of the Veridian Empire.

I let out a half chuckle, half groan as I lifted my head from the vanity. A knock on my chamber door made me straighten, followed by a soft, “Are you awake, dear?”

I crossed over the cream rug in front of the fireplace and reached for the door. “It’s late, Mother. What are you still doing up?” I asked when her petite frame appeared in the doorway.

Her fingers rubbed anxiously back and forth on the candleholder in her grasp. “I wanted to see how you were doing. I heard about what happened tonight.”

I sighed. I tried to keep her away from as much of this as possible—it only made her worry more. “Of course you did. Who told you?”

“The maids know everything.”

My mother would hear gossip from the birds if they could talk.

She made friends everywhere she went. Or, rather, connections .

Evadine Aris may have been a sweet, doting mother, but she was also a former empress.

Cunning and sly and resourceful. Her little brunches with the wives of the council members weren’t because she loved scones so much.

She often came back with more secrets than even I’d known.

“I’m fine, Mother.” I stepped to the side to let her in. She set her candle down on a nearby pedestal and enveloped me in a tight hug. “He missed his mark. Again. These assassins they keep sending are lousy,” I mumbled into her shoulder.

She swatted me on the back. “This isn’t funny, Clarissa.”

“Well, if I don’t find some sort of morbid humor in the situation, it’s going to make me stick my head in the fireplace.”

Mother tsk ed and pulled away. “I’m sorry you’ve been dealing with so much, sweet girl. But you’re handling it beautifully. Your father would be so proud.”

I quickly swallowed the lump that formed in my throat. “A woman died tonight. She was hit by an arrow meant for me. I…I couldn’t do anything to help her.”

“Oh, Clarissa,” she said softly. Her lips curved downward, and a crease appeared at her brow. Taking my hand, she led me to the cushioned bench at the foot of my bed.

“You’re not going to be able to help everyone.

You don’t have the power to stop all bad things from happening, as much as you wish you could.

Branock was the same. His heart was so big, his desire to do right by his people so great, that he was often too hard on himself when things didn’t go how he wanted.

There will be bad days, bad weeks, bad years .

But it’s not your fault. That poor woman’s death was not your fault. ”

I stared straight ahead into the fire, its embers beginning to fade. “She would still be alive if I hadn’t been in that tavern tonight. The assassin was targeting me . I guess we were lucky there was only one casualty. That entire bar was full of innocent people, and I put them all at risk.”

With a groan, I leaned forward and held my head in my hands.

“Lark’s going to be up to her ears in damage control.

People were in such a panic, and it’s only going to get worse once stories spread.

The assassin even left me a note. It said, ‘You can’t run.

’ How can I leave in the morning when this is such a mess? ” I asked, glancing over at Mother.

“Maybe it’s for the best that you’re going,” she said.

“It could be a good thing. You could make a statement first thing in the morning about the attack to show how this hasn’t shaken you.

That the empire stands firm. Taking some time away from the situation might be good for you too.

And it will allow your opposition to calm down and see things more rationally. ”

I scoffed. “It’s Scarven, Mother. I don’t think those Drakorum bastards know the meaning of the word ‘rational.’”