Page 16 of Haunted

As she stops, her scent fills my nose. Something heavy, almost musky, and a bit sharp. A floral that would forever signify death in my mind.

“You’re angry with me,” she says.

I don’t look up, and I don’t open my eyes.

“You must have truly cared for the girl. It is a tragedy.”

I note no words of apology. No admittance of guilt.

“When she left my chambers this morning,” I mutter, “she was not in the mind to kill herself.”

“Time to herself to process what happened must have changed her view on life. I’m sure your captivating presence held her steady, but once you let her return to her chambers, she saw how hopeless her circumstances had become.”

I want the empress gone. I cannot stand another moment with her. As she towers above me, and though my eyes are closed, I feel her scrutiny. All my being pushes forth effort not to cringe.

“I let the lords go, with an escort of dragon riders,” the empress says, “and Lord Jasher, to take the girl’s body away for a funeral.”

She let a traitor go? Shock slips up the veins in my arms, and my shoulders go numb. This one tenderness changes nothing.

“Caedryn, how can I make this right?”

Does she really ask this of me? “I demand justice for Emleen. Find me the culprit and put his head on a platter.” Let me see Empress Rhianu admit guilt when she is the faulty person. She’ll most likely cut off the head of a guard and present it.

When the empress braces her hands on either side of my chair and her breath touches my face, I open my eyes to her leaning toward me.

Her expression hardens. “How would you like me to present your head?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t touch her.”

“Of course I did.” With daring, I shoulder past the empress and out of my chair. Remain calm. Show no vexation. I pace to the fireplace but whirl back, ready to face her.

The empress’s eyes are piercing and aglow with firelight as she straightens and steps toward me. “Had you forcefully taken her virtue, you would have become a Dark Emrys. You would have transitioned.”

“I knew Emleen. As you said, I was sweet on her. She readily consented to our pairing. No transition took place because it wasn’t warranted.” The lies are so thick on my conscience that my heart feels ill. How could I have neglected to take into account how intimacy affects half-emrys? Those who take the virtue of another shift their balance of partial light to complete darkness. But my excuse is plausible.

“Be that as it may, her life was forfeit.”

“What about what we discussed about showing leniency?”

“What did you expect,” the empress says, “that I reward her father? If I must suffer, so must others.”

“You admit suffering,” I say with snide spite. “The great empress, sorrowed by the death of her dog.”

She slaps me. I don’t lift my hand to touch the biting sting that spreads across my jaw. The empress turns from me and stares into the fire. A subtle rounding of her shoulders portrays a crack in her demeanor, a break in her commanding presence.

I seize this moment to affirm my loyalty. “My apologies. I didn’t know how much you cared for Drago.”

“A ruler has no friends, Caedryn.” Her voice is timid, but as soon as her confession passes her lips, the empress snaps upright. “I shouldn’t expect the good fortune of having a companion as loyal as a dog either.”

The conversation is finished. Empress Rhianu swishes from the room, taking the cold with her.

I smile. She has more weaknesses than I could fathom.

15

The empress bends over a map in the war room. The lighting is low because only a candelabrum sits on the table, breaking up the gloomy blackness. Loose hair hangs over her shoulder. She braces both her hands on the table and doesn’t look up even though I’m sure she knows I’m lingering in the doorway.

---