Page 31 of An Empress of Earth & Darkness

For once, Emara agreed with Viktir. The Blacksteel Clan was wealthy enough in their station and powerfully respected in their duty.

But this was Emara’s fight, and she would not back down.

“I reject your offer.” She looked the Minister of Coin in the eye as she said, “A Supreme may not sit on the witching throne for now, but that does not make us vulnerable.” She looked over her empresses, and the magic in their eyes shone back at her. “I will not be a slave to your coin and neither will any other coven be, especially not when I can melt your gold with flames. Tell me, Your Grace, what would your coin be worth then?”

He gave a smug laugh. “A hell of a lot more than your treaty with the Blacksteels, and you would be wise to consider that. What is your price then, Empress? We can even look at negotiations.” His eyes sparked. “Everyone has a price.”

“She is not a diamond that has been plucked from one of your mines to be shined for auction and sold.”

A deep, husky voice came from where Torin Blacksteel had been sitting.

Emara turned in a whirlwind spin to see him leaning forward in his chair, his uniform straining around his physique. Torin’s glare was deadly as he stood, his chest puffing out and his features murderous. “She is priceless. She cannot be purchased. The empress has stated a few times now that she wishes to refuse your offer, so that will be the end of that discussion. Doesn’t no mean no to the elite faction?”

Something turned over in the minister’s dark eyes as his head snapped to Torin. “And who are you to speak out against me, boy?”

Torin grinned so wickedly before rolling his lips. “Boy? You know exactly who I am. And you know fine well I am no boy.” He rolled up one sleeve of his tunic to reveal that pulsing blue vein that always caught Emara’s attention. Damn that blue vein. “The work my clan has done for you does not require boys, but men skilled enough to kill without blinking an eye.”

The minister’s snobbish laugh broke his lips. “You are of Blacksteel blood, I presume? I find it interesting that you are the one who steps forward for the Empress of Air’s honour, yet your brother, the one promised to her, has yet to say a word.”

Emara didn’t turn around to look at Gideon, but she knew he would be reeling with anger, probably standing now too. She hoped Naya was there to keep him in check.

“What I also find interesting is the letters that you have sent to the prime, Torin Blacksteel, pleading for your courtship to wed the empress that stands before me. They were some very good reading, I must say. But hold on a second, does that not go against your commander’s orders?”

A hiss came from the crowd.

Emara’s legs almost came out from underneath her, but a steady hand caught her. She had forgotten that Breighly Baxgroll stood at her side.

He had written letters to the prime?

Torin Blacksteel had written to them, pleading for them to be wed instead of her and Gideon?

Her heart shattered all over again, breaking and breaking until her breath left her. She’d thought he had given up on them, on their future.

“I am aware of what my commander asked of me.” Torin walked forward, and Emara didn’t know if his closeness was a comfort or torture. “If you deem Emara Clearwater so worthy to put forth a quest to her hand in marriage, you will need to understand how she works.” Torin breathed in. “This is just a heads up, she doesn’t like it when men don’t take no for an answer. Now let her return to her seat with no further questions. She has stood up here long enough, and this matter is uncalled for.”

He finally looked at her, his eyes blue enough to crush souls. He gave her a nod. Emara fought the tears in her eyes as she watched Torin turn and head back to his seat.

“I think we ought to call it a day, Chief Commander, and pick up where need be at the next summit,” Murk advised, and the crowd released more breaths than Emara could count. “Everyone is tired.”

Tired wasn’t the word.

The King of the Fae nodded in agreement, and the chief commander nodded as he pinched his nose.

As the room broke up, Emara turned to try to reach Torin, but a crowd swarmed her. Some had tears in their eyes at what she had done for them. Some kissed her hand and swore they would never forget this moment. All had so many questions. Lorta and Kaydence rushed in to save her, moving her through the crowd that felt like they were clawing at her for attention.

Even though it didn’t feel like it, she had just broken the chains of conformities in Caledorna and changed the path for women all over the kingdom. One of her guards was going to be a wolf. A woman.

Perhaps she should feel more victorious than she did, but a heavy shadow thickened in her heart, and she just wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole.

Emara sat at the oversized window in her bedroom, looking out at the city below her. The lights of homes and workplaces twinkled in the orangey-red glow, and as the sunset fell behind the buildings, Emara noted that she had never really gone exploring in the city, just the markets. And from this view, the city looked so beautiful. She made a promise to herself that she would go wandering once everything settled down. She would experience the city she so often stared at from the windows of the Tower.

She had been in her room ever since coming back from the minister’s mansion, the day’s events rolling over in her mind tirelessly.

Her new guardianship, her encounter with the Fae king, her stand-off with the Minister of Coin. The slight glimmer of hope that had welled in her heart when Torin defended her…

It was all too much. Her mind just needed a rest.

Maybe she needed some air; being with her natural element always calmed her, but there was nowhere for her to go downstairs without being seen. The Tower was heaving full of magical factions since her achievements, and the gardens would be well used on a summer night like tonight.

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