Page 156 of A Dance of Shadows

Tomydaughter.

At the memory of the tiny, fragile form that nestled in Aurelia’s arms, my hands ball at my sides. I’m not letting any harm come to either of them, no matter what I have to do.

We pause by the doorway, Lorenzo and I taking a quick look inside the dining room and Raul surveying the rooms on theother side of the hall. As I draw back with frustration prickling through my gut, a familiar figure comes into view at the far end of the hall—but not the man we were seeking.

Neven slows his pace as he approaches us. I offer him a companionable nod, though my body has tensed.

It used to be that this kid was under our protection too. Now he isn’t really a kid anymore… and I don’t know what to expect from him.

Jurnus guide me, it feels so wrong to think of him as a potential enemy.

I thought the divine appeal out of habit rather than expecting a response, but as Neven pauses in front of us, the light wavers in the hall’s sconces. In the instant after I blink, a glowing streak seems to wind around Neven’s shoulders and flow on toward me, like a rope I could grasp. As if I could drag him with us.

The image fades, leaving only Neven’s scowling face. He considers the three of us with a flex of his broad shoulders. “What are you doing wandering around the halls?”

Raul lets out a slight scoffing sound. “Can’t a few friends go for a walk to shoot the breeze? Breakfast isn’t ready yet.”

Neven’s mouth tightens, and something in me balks. No, Raul’s rancor isn’t the right way to bring our younger foster brother back into the fold. We need to steer him along—not with a literal rope, but with the closest thing I can find that would feel like his own choice.

More like a gust of wind nudging him in the right direction.

The prospect becomes a little more urgent with his next words. “You’re up to something, aren’t you? More little ploys that won’t really do anything. I bet it’d earnmesomething useful if I sounded the alarm.”

The suggestion jabs me right through the stomach with a queasy lurch, but it doesn’t surprise me.

That’s right. What Neven really wants is to feel he’s made a difference—put his might toward a winning cause.

We can give him that. We’re right on the verge to altering the entire course of the empire permanently.

Lorenzo reaches toward Neven with a twist of his hand in appeal. I speak up before Raul can add his own thoughts that will no doubt match the caustic flare of his eyes.

“Earn you something from whom?” I ask, quiet but firm. “A psychotic emperor who enjoys stabbing those closest to him in the back? That doesn’t sound like much of a reward.”

I’ve kept my voice low enough that neither the nobles nor guards farther down the hall can hear, but Neven’s gaze ticks nervously toward them anyway. Then he fixes me with a defiant glare. “Better than scrounging around like rats just waiting to be exterminated.”

I step closer to him, ignoring the few inches of height he has on me. Remembering how Aurelia loomed on Marc when we had him tied to that chair, unbalanced and tired but so fierce it didn’t matter.

Might is what you make it.

I lower my voice even more. “What if he’s the one who’ll end up exterminated? We’re looking for the emperor right now—and he doesn’t have his guards. We can bring all our powers to bear. Yours could come in awfully handy.”

Neven’s lips part with a slackening of his jaw. For a second, I think he’s going to come out of his shock with a yell in alarm. Raul makes a noise of consternation.

Then an eager light sparks in the young prince’s face. He laughs, a little breathlessly. “You’re joking.”

Raul’s mouth crooks upward at the hope in Neven’s tone. “Not even slightly.”

I prod his chest. “What do you think, Neven? Are you actually ready to fight?”

He lifts his chin, his muscles flexing. “Fuck, yes. Just point me at him, and we’ll get this done.”

Chapter Fifty-Five

Aurelia

An insistent grunting breaks through my sleep. I open my eyes just as Coraya lets out a more drawn out if delicate wail.

Exhaustion still hazes my mind, but I don’t need more than instinct to realize she’s hungry. I yank up my blouse and the steel-woven undershirt currently over it to offer my breast to my daughter.

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