Page 48 of Empire of Wrath and Ruin
"But there's something I need you to understand." I took a breath, choosing my words carefully. "You're her fated mate. That makes you family, whether either of us likes it or not."
For a moment, he was silent, and I wondered if I'd misjudged the situation entirely. Then something shifted in his expression, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.
"I was wondering if you would see it that way," he said quietly. "If any of you would."
"We're not enemies," I said, extending my hand toward him. "We all love her. That's enough common ground to build on."
He looked down at my offered hand, then back up at my face. Slowly, he reached out and grasped my wrist in the traditional warrior's greeting. I returned the gesture, feeling the corded strength in his grip.
“Family,” I said firmly. His strange white eyes flashed up to mine and then briefly over to where Tarshi stood, also watching the exchange. I kept my eyes on Taveth, but still caught Tarshi’s brief nod. Taveth turned back to me and nodded.
When we released each other, I could see that Livia had been watching the entire exchange. The smile on her face was radiant, and I realized how much our acceptance of each other meant to her.
"Better?" she asked.
"Better," I agreed, though I caught Taveth's eye and saw an understanding pass between us. There were still things to work out, still complications that would need to be addressed, but we'd taken the first step.
It was then that I noticed Jalend standing in the doorway to one of the other chambers, his face pale and drawn. He'd been like this since Mira's news about the Imperial prisoners, and I was beginning to suspect there was more to his reaction than simple sympathy for captured Talfen.
"Jalend," I said. "Can I speak with you for a moment? Privately?"
He glanced at Livia and Taveth, then nodded reluctantly. "Of course."
I gestured toward one of the smaller chambers, and he followed me inside. As I closed the door behind us, I caught sight of Antonius and Septimus in the main room. Both of them were watching us with expressions that suggested they'd noticed Jalend's behaviour too, but they made no move to interfere.
"What's wrong?" I asked without preamble once we were alone. "And don't tell me it's nothing. You've been like this since Mira mentioned the Imperial prisoners."
Jalend sat heavily on the edge of the bed, his hands clasped tightly in front of him. For a long moment, he was silent, and I wondered if he was going to refuse to answer.
"There are thousands of them," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "Talfen prisoners in the Imperial dungeons. Men, women, children—anyone suspected of resistance activity or simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time. You don't understand."
I felt sick. He'd told us about the prisoners of course, their lives that he’d saved by committing himself to the battle, fighting against the Talfen, against his own principles, but I hadn’t put the two together yet. Thousands. Gods above.
Jalend looked up at me, and I was shocked by the anguish in his eyes. "My father swore to me that he would spare them. When I left the capital, he promised me that the prisoners would be treated fairly."
The pieces suddenly clicked into place. Jalend's identity, his reaction to the news, the way he'd gone pale when Mira described the Emperor's plans.
"Your father probably thinks you're dead," I said quietly. "If that's true, he's no longer bound by whatever promise he made to you."
"Exactly." Jalend's voice cracked. "If he believes I'm dead, if he thinks there's no one left to hold him accountable to his word... Marcus, it won't be an execution. It will be a public massacre. Thousands of innocent people, butchered for the entertainment of the masses."
The horror of it settled over me like a weight. I'd seen enough Imperial cruelty to know that Jalend wasn't exaggerating. The Emperor was capable of exactly the kind of spectacle he was describing.
"We have to stop him," Jalend said desperately. "Somehow, we have to—"
"How?" I interrupted, though not unkindly. "How exactly do you propose we do that? We have no power, no troops, no influence. We're prisoners ourselves, albeit comfortable ones.We're just small players in this game, Jalend. All we can do is wait and help the Talfen when we can."
"There has to be something—"
"There isn't." I sat down beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I know it's hard to accept, but we're not in a position to save those prisoners. The best we can do is help the Talfen prepare for what's coming and hope that somehow, things work out better than we expect."
Jalend's shoulders sagged with defeat, and I felt a pang of sympathy for him. To know that thousands would die because of his father's belief that he was dead—it was a burden no one should have to carry.
He looked over at where Livia sat on Septimus’ lap as she talked to Sirrax. Septimus stroked her hair gently as she leaned against him, and Sirrax held her hand in his. I understood, it was hard to be around her and not be touching her the whole time, to reassure ourselves that she was here, and we finally had her back. Jalend sighed.
"Does she know?" he asked. "About who I am?"
"No," I said. "And I think we should keep it that way for now. The fewer people who know, the safer you'll be. And the safer she’ll be."
