Page 2 of The Endless War

Her aunt sighed and drew back her hood, revealing her halo of curls, the silver strands gleaming in the light. If recent events had taken a toll, it didn’t show, for her brown skin held its usual luster, the only sign of her age a crinkling around her coal-rimmed eyes. Gold jewels glittered on her ears and her throat, and the faint scent of her floral perfume drifted into Zarrah’s cell. Placing the lantern down on the deck, the Empress then sat with her back against the wall opposite Zarrah’s cell with her knees up, the laces of her military boots swaying.

Silence stretched, and Zarrah’s heart beat faster with every passing second. Why was her aunt on the ship? What did she intend that demanded her presence during Zarrah’s incarceration? What did she plan to say? Why was she here? What did she want?

What her aunt said next was not at all what Zarrah anticipated.

“I hate this,” the Empress said softly. “Hate him for having come between us. For having damaged our love so badly that I fear it is beyond repair.”

Zarrah stared, struggling to comprehend what madness motivated her aunt’s words even as some cowardly part of her wanted to latch on to them. Wanted to beg her aunt for mercy.

But she was no coward.

“Itisbeyond repair, Imperial Majesty. But not because of Keris’s actions.”

Her aunt sucked in a breath as though Zarrah had slapped her. “Hearing his name from your lips is a knife to the heart, dear one, because I can hear the affection you still hold for him.”

Zarrah knew her feelings for Keris were still there. Hated that they were still there. Yet she said, “You are mistaken.”

Her aunt regarded her for a long moment, then looked away, face crumbling with grief. “God spare us, but the rat’s claws have sunk deep into your heart, and it is my fault.” A tear trickled down her aunt’s cheek, and she wiped it away angrily. “I prepared you for life in so many ways, but I neglected to teach you of the devilry of men.”

Zarrah snorted in disgust. “I’m a woman grown, not some fifteen-year-old maid who has never been kissed. He was hardly my first lover.”

“The fumbling of soldiers. Whereas a man like him uses seductionwith the adeptness of a courtesan. You never had a chance, and that is my fault, dear one.” Her voice dripped with pity. “I should have made arrangements so that you’d have had the experience to resist his charms.”

Zarrah’s cheeks burned, and she cursed herself for allowing her aunt to get to her. “He had no idea who I was when we met and didn’t learn my identity until … after.”

“After you hadsexwith him?” The Empress sighed. “You claim a woman’s experience with men but speak of intimacy like a girl.”

Zarrah clenched her fists, aware that she was rising to the bait but unable to stop herself. “I can—”

Her aunt held up a hand, silencing her. “The rat knew you were Valcottan. That you were a soldier. Your speech would have told him you were from a certain class, and therefore a certain rank. All of which made you a challenge worthy of his attention. A prize to be claimed, and a prize to beusedonce he learned just how valuable you truly were.”

“You pretend knowledge of something you know nothing about.” Why was her aunt pursuing this angle? What was her goal? What was the point of delving into Keris’s intentions when Zarrah had already forsaken him?

“If you were just a lover and not a prize worth keeping, why did he take you to Vencia? Why not arrange for you to escape?”

“He tried,” Zarrah retorted even as she debated whether it was better to fight or remain silent, or if it mattered at all. “You ordered that I be abandoned; Yrina told him so when she was captured.”

Silence.

“Have you stopped to consider that the rat is the source of everything you hold against me?” her aunt asked. “He manipulated you, Zarrah. Put his deft fingers between your legs and played you until you forgot who truly loved you. Forgot what really mattered to you.”

“That isnottrue.” Zarrah wasn’t certain whether she was defending Keris or herself, only that her aunt’s words twisted the past year of her life into something dark and ugly. “You speak of things that you don’t know.”

“I know that all the things he did to make you sing made him King of Maridrina and you a traitor to your people,” her aunt answered. “I know that he sits in luxury in Vencia while you sail toward Devil’s Island. While you defend him, he entertains himself with orgies, showing particular favoritism for a woman named …” She drew a scrap of paper from her pocket and glanced at it. “Lestara. A Cardiffian princess, she was the youngest of Silas’s wives. Very beautiful, I’m told, and well trained in the arts of the bedroom. He’s made her the head of his house, and there is speculation he might make her queen, though I think that is wishful thinking. Maridrina never allows women that much power.” Tucking the paper away, she added, “You will starve and suffer while he fucks and feasts.”

Zarrah clenched her teeth, Lestara’s face rearing in her mind. It was no secret to her that the harem wife had long had her sights set on Keris. It would seem she’d finally gotten her way, for her aunt’s spies wouldn’t give her unconfirmed gossip. Her stomach hollowed, pain tightening around her chest like a vise, and her aunt shook her head. “I know this grieves you, dear one, for he no doubt made promises of forever. But they weren’t promises; they were lies. Surely you see that now?”

Sickness swam in Zarrah’s stomach, for though she had no right to expect Keris to maintain any level of fidelity after she’d threatened to kill him, her heart seemed to have believed he would. Her heart was a fool.

“You are Keris Veliant’s victim.” Her aunt’s hands balled into fists, and she moved onto her knees, eyes locked on Zarrah’s, the intensity in them matching the fierceness of her voice as she said, “I intend to make him pay for what he has done to you. What he’s done to us.”

Zarrah’s eyes stung, anger and guilt and shame threatening to choke her, but she managed to get out, “If I’m his victim, then why are you sending me to this place? If it’s Keris you’re so angry with, why am I the one you are punishing?”

“Because it’s the only way you’ll learn.” Her aunt reached through the bars to wipe the tears from Zarrah’s face, then cupped her cheek. “If there are no consequences, what is to stop you from making the same mistake again? What is to stop you from being lured back into his bed with sweet words and promises of pleasure?”

Nothing. And everything.

“You’re sending me to a prison for murderers and rapists to learn a lesson about the ways of men?” Zarrah spat in her aunt’s face. “Fuck you.”

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