Page 172 of Embers in the Snow

My father doesn’t love me. He’s in love with the idea of me; the immortal, his legacy made flesh.

“That brings me to my second great regret.” He coughs and splutters again, spraying the sheets with droplets of blood. “After I lost your mother, I married again, as you know. I had no choice. The war in Batava had weakened my position, and the Talavarras were conspiring to destroy me.” A deep, laboured sigh escapes him, as if he’s the great victim in all of this. “So I married Leticia, and she bore me your brother, and I thought they would be content with having their firstborn daughter as the Empress Consort, but in truth, Rhaegar harbored greater ambitions for his grandson, didn’t he? And so I thought I was doing the right thing by letting Ansar and his mother spend most of the year at the Talavarra estate, because perhaps the boy would be disinterested in the politics of the court. It proved to be true for a period of time, but ever since you gave up your right to the throne, Ansar’s been chomping at the bit, and like all Talavarras, it’s never enough for him. He wasn’t pleased to hear that you’d come into your powers, Corvan. In fact, he’s become terribly threatened by you. So much so that he’s holed himself up in Deignar and turned to the arcane arts himself. Tonecromancy.And I wonder if it’s all my fault; if only I hadn’t neglected him and focused all my hopes on you. But you’ll go ahead and take care of him now, won’t you?”

Shaking, I inhale deeply and try to calm myself, catching a faint tendril ofherscent. I seek and hold onto the reminder of Finley’s presence for dear life, because I’ve never been so angry before, and yet there’s nothing I can do to harm father right now.

“Where is she?” I ask softly. Sweet Goddess, grant me fucking strength.

“Don’t you know how powerful a purebloodeddryadis? I’ve grown complacent in my old age, my son, and your brother’s more cunning than I gave him credit for, because while I was distracted with this damn illness, he discovered her. And he’s gone and stolen her right from beneath my very nose and taken her to Talavarra. To Deignar Castle. They’ve been using her power. How else do you think a mere mortal would have the power to be able to raise the bloody dead? So go and get her back, my son.”

The only thing that tempers my anger right now is a flicker of hope. Finley’s mother is in the Talavarra Estate, and she’salive.

She’s alive.

That’s all that matters. I will go get her, but it will be on my terms. Nothis.

Right until the very end, I feel like I’m being swayed by father’s manipulations, but the difference now is that he’s dying, and I’m very much alive.

A sudden feeling of urgency grips me. There’s one more thing I need to know. “When you started the war with the Khaturians, what were you trying to achieve?”

A certain look enters my father’s eyes—one I’ve seen many times before. He used to get this way when he’d speak of the lands he was planning to conquer. “Tyron was mismanaged for years. My fault, for I’d overlooked Feyrun Bengar’s incompetence and believed his promises. But he didn’t have what it took to venture beyond the foot of the mountains and undertake the minerals exploration I needed. There are rich veins ofserpenstonein the area. Our stockpiles were running dangerously low, the mines in the south almost fully depleted. I needed a new source. I just didn’t expect the Khaturians would be so obstinate about it.” He stops, his face contorting in pain. His breathing becomes shallow and rapid. “I sent you there because I knew you would get things done. And it wasn’t a bad thing that you died.”

My anger, once cold, turns white-hot. Knowing him, he probably predicted it. “That Idied?”

“A half-breeddhampirlike you is human until death. It’s only once you die that you undergo the Change and the other half awakens. It was about time, don’t you think? Only I thought that you’d revel in your newfound power. Instead, you had to go and be difficult. Stubborn as your mother, you are.”

I snap. My sword is out, pointed right at the center of his chest.

“I really don’t give a shit if you kill me here, son. Just take thefucking throne.”

I barely hear him. All I can see are the faces of dead men—mymen. Sent to their deaths, and for what?

Fuckingserpenstone?

My own goddess-cursed transformation?

And now I can’t even have the satisfaction of seeing terror in my father’s eyes, because he already knows he’s a dead man.

“This world isn’t yours to toy with anymore,” I say quietly, sheathing my sword before I lose every last shred of my self-control. “I’ll take your empire. But I will never carry on with your legacy.”

“Wh-what are you on about, boy?” The Emperor of Rahava wheezes and splutters.

I smile, showing him my fangs—which I now know I’ve inherited from mother.

And when she turned on him for his betrayal—he had her killed.

My smile hides a feeling I’ve never known before.

I want my father to suffer. I want him to know nothing but pain and torment as he passes from this world into the next.

I lean in, putting my lips close to his ear. Death hovers around him. I can smell it on him. “When I become emperor, the first thing I’m going to do is separate your head from your corpse and display it on the traitor’s pike above the outer walls.”

“Y-you can’t do that,” he hisses. “The population will revolt.”

“You might be feared, but very few revere you. Aside from your supporters in the nobility, I suspect that most won’t bat an eyelid.”

The last of the color drains from his face. “You can’t do this, Corvan. It will just feed into the rumor that you’re unhinged.”

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? For me to take over?” I don’t care what the court thinks of me. If they consider me mad, then all the better. I can use that to my advantage.

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