Page 27 of Heir

Married.

The word rang in Quil’s ears like a screech of a dying wraith. It was only a lifetime of court training that kept him from grabbing Mater Andricar by her silk-clad shoulder and demanding to know what in the skies she was talking about.

“Mater, Pater,” he managed through numb lips. “Whatever the Empress has arranged for me will be for the best. Her only concern—and mine—is the prosperity of the Empire. If you’ll excuse me.” He offered an anodyne smile as he moved away, fingers tingling from the sheer effort of appearing unruffled.

A few others approached him, but he begged off, scanning the room for his aunt. He needed to find her, talk to her, get answers out of her.

Usually, he’d rue the height that made him stand out in a crowd. Now he was grateful. He spotted a flash of silver-blond hair. She was surrounded, but she must have sensed his anger because she looked up, directly at him.

For a moment, they were the only two people in the room, bonded as blood often is. She nodded toward a back door that led to a private balcony, and lifted her hand.

Five minutes.

Quil nodded and turned away. The room spun.

Though he tried to stop it, his magic, leashed like a rabid beast at the back of his mind, rose up. He took a shuddering breath and shoved the magic down.Not now! Not here!The effort of it was immense, and for a moment he thought that he’d pass out and drop straightonto his face, humiliating himself, his aunt, his entire Gens.

Then Sufiyan was at his side, shaking Quil’s shoulder, and the magic receded.

“You look like someone’s yanked your knickers around your neck.” Sufiyan pulled him to the edge of the party, shoving people out of his way.

“Talk,” Sufiyan said when they’d gotten clear of the crowds. “What’s happened? Is it Tas?”

Quil shook his head. He’d forgotten about Tas entirely. “The Empress arranged a marriage. Mine.”

“What?” Sufiyan nearly shouted, and the partygoers nearest them turned to stare, scandalized.

“Shut it,” Quil hissed. “Mater Andricar told me. Maybe she’s mistaken.”

“She’s a meddlesome old bat, but she’s not usually wrong,” Sufiyan said.

“Maybe Aunt Hel was going to tell me,” Quil said. “Maybe she didn’t get the chance.”

“Get the chance?What about when she was shouting at you last week for saying the wordabdicatein public?” Sufiyan said. “I hope you’ll tell her to stuff it.”

Quil sighed. “I’m not going to tell her to stuff it.”

“Why the hells not?” Sufiyan stared at his friend like he’d agreed to marry a cabbage. “You might have to marry someone you’ve never met. She could be exceedingly violent. Or stupid. She might have an unnatural obsession with goats. Don’t you care?”

Ilar’s smile flashed in Quil’s head, the song of her laughter. “Of course I care.” Quil pushed her memory away. “But an arranged match was always a possibility. For the stability of the Empire.”

Sufiyan put his hand to his temple, as if to call on untapped reservesof patience. “I’m not saying the Empire isn’t important. But you do realize that I’m heir to one of the most powerful Gens? Yet my parents aren’t demanding that I marry some horse-faced Illustrian to keep the line going.”

“Not all of us have three siblings to carry on the line if—”

“Two.” Sufiyan’s voice was soft as he glanced away from his friend.

Quil flinched, realizing his mistake. Of course. Ruh was Sufiyan’s baby brother. And he was dead. “Oh skies. I’m an idiot.”

“Look, there’s Arelia.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Stop.” Sufiyan shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down, dark hair obscuring his eyes. “Makes it worse. It’s fine. Really.”

Quil cursed himself for not thinking before he spoke, thankful when his cousin appeared. She wore a narrow-waisted gown that was a riot of green, her curls loose down her back. Quil glared at the knot of besotted fellows trailing her, scaring them off. He didn’t need anyone eavesdropping.

For her part, Arelia ignored her admirers. Her gaze had snagged on Sufiyan, half in shadow, his dark gold eyes glittering appreciatively. He nodded a greeting.

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