Page 52 of The Sundered Blade

Somehow Karreya did not react, but only stood witness as Leisa’s limp form was caught by Lord Kellan before she hit the floor. She continued to watch in silence as they were led away under the sorrowful eye of the king, and only when the last of them had left the room did he turn once more to glance at her face, his dark eyes narrowed in thought.

But his regard lasted only for a moment before he turned back to his remaining lords.

“Those who remain may be called upon in Garimore’s hour of need,” he said, “and I have no doubt that I can rely on each of you to do whatever is necessary as we unite the Five Thrones as one. Either we stand together, or we fall, and there will be no returning if ever we fall under the shadow of the Empire.”

His speech at an end, the king stepped down from the dais and made his way out of the hall in silence, and Karreya could do nothing but watch as the remaining courtiers eyed one another with burgeoning fear and suspicion.

Who among them was truly loyal? Who might be counted on to spy for the king? Ought they be more afraid of the tyrant to come, or the one who was already in their midst?

Her father had learned much during his time away, and applied the lessons of imperial rule with a deft hand. This task of hers might be more difficult than she imagined, and yet, she had no choice but to see it through.

Merging back into the shadows, she left the balcony and descended the stairs, finding her way into the corridor where she could still hear the faint sounds of boots and shouting. The prisoners had not gone quietly, and she could only pray that Leisa had not been seriously injured.

Come what may, she would find a way to rescue her once she had spoken to her father.

After binding her hair back with a single deft twist of her wrist, Karreya strode down the empty hall, drawing a dagger as she went. Two quick slits in her long flowing skirts allowed her better access to her weapons and decreased the likelihood of them tangling between her legs. Thankfully, the boots she wore beneath were already soft and flat enough to allow her to move quietly.

She was too late to shadow her father’s steps, but Leisa had provided her with a detailed layout of the palace—one that included the location of the royal apartments and the servants’ stairs. It was a simple matter for one of Karreya’s skill to find her way unseen, landing a few short minutes later on the king’s balcony with only a whisper of sound. The doors were locked, but otherwise unsecured, so she let herself in and strolled silently through the royal suite.

The lamps burned low, and no fire brightened the fireplace, so she stationed herself across from the window in the king’s sitting room—unmoving as a stone, as patient as the stars. She could wait all night, and yet somehow she knew she would not have to. He would come, and he would expect her to be here, and at long last, she would have her answers.

Even if none of them were the answers she hoped for.

* * *

She heard when he arrived. When he sighed deeply before turning away an offer of tea, entering his bedchamber, and dismissing his servants for the night.

Only then did he make his way to the sitting room. He did not turn up the lamps, only crossed to the window and stood there, looking out over the grounds below.

“Have you come to bargain or to kill?” he asked abruptly.

So he knew she was imperial, but nothing more.

“You wish to bargain with Empress Phaedrin Myrna Draguris, Queen of the Dragur and Supreme Commander of the Undying Legion? What bargain can be possible for the king of a weak and pitiful people?” Her voice was as flat and emotionless as she could make it. The voice of an assassin—cold and deadly.

She had never told him of her magic, so he could not know that she saw through his transformation. He could only wonder whether she knew him as more than he pretended to be. And it would only add to his fear—the possibility that after all his pretending, an imperial assassin had actually come, and she had come forhim.

“A bargain is always possible,” he said, and raised his right hand to touch something that lay beneath his robes. “And these people are not as weak as when I found them.”

He must be wearing the medallion. The one that would protect him from mind mages, which meant he thought himself less vulnerable.

Which meant this was the ideal moment to attack.

“No bargains are possible for you,” she said. “Did you truly believe you had escaped?”

“Escaped from what?” He sounded very much as if she had puzzled him, but he was afraid.

“Your destiny,” she said softly, emerging from the shadows so that he could see her outline in the moonlit room. “You might believe you outran it—that you have beaten the specter of your past—but you cannot run from history. Most of all, you cannot run from yourself… Modrevin.”

The name left a bitter taste on her tongue, but it struck home, staggering his confidence and driving him a step back to stare at her wildly, hands clenched in the fabric of his robes.

“Who are you?” he whispered hoarsely. “How did you find me, and how do you know that name?”

Karreya had not expected it to hurt. But she knew he had seen her. He had identified her as imperial, and yet, there was no shadow of either doubt or recognition.

“How do younotknow my face?”

A puzzled frown pulled at his lips. “I left everything behind eleven years ago,” he said. “And there was no one who would have missed me. Even my mother saw me as a useless waste of resources, so who would there have been to remember?”

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