Fear was a powerful weapon, forged over time and by example.
Generations of fear for the punishments issued by the Cortas family line had created total and complete obedience.
Could people be ruled without fear to keep them in check? Was it even possible?
She didn’t know for certain, and that question troubled her deeply.
Amara took the long way to the hall where, by now, every Kraeshian who had received a personal invitation to the event of the century would be lining the large, ornate room where her father and mother had been married. Where her three brothers—but not their “lesser” sister—had been officially presented to important friends of the emperor after their births.
Where her mother had been displayed after her death, fully painted and coiffed and wearing her wedding gown, for all to see.
A thousand would fill the hall as Amara received the scepter—a symbol of power for a Kraeshian ruler since the very beginning—that bore the chiseled golden head of a phoenix. A symbol of eternal life and eternal power.
Within the scepter there was a sharp blade.
And with this blade, the ascending ruler would make a blood sacrifice to bring good fortune to her reign.
Today it would be Mikah’s blood, unless Felix and Nerissa were successful in their quest.
Amara took her time walking to the ceremony hall. She wove through the palace and passed the large windows that looked out onto her courtyard. She paused. She knew exactly what would calm her. Amara made her way out into her rock garden.
To her surprise, waiting for her on a table was a bottle of wine with two goblets, just as there had been when she’d arrived.
There was a message there, which read:
Dhosha,
I anticipate that you will visit your favorite place before joining me and the others. Please take a moment to appreciate how much you’ve accomplished, and how very much I appreciate you.
Your Madhosha
Yes. A sip of sweet wine might be exactly what she needed to calm her nerves to face what was to come. Her grandmother knew her very well indeed. She poured some of the golden liquid into one of the goblets and then raised it to her lips.
“Empress!”
She jumped at the sound of the voice.
Costas approached her, his expression grim.
“Did the queen send you to fetch me?” she said as sharply as she could. “Or did you decide to interrupt my privacy all on your own?”
“Queen Neela sent me to find you. The ceremony is ready to begin.”
“I’m sure it is. And I’m equally sure that it can’t start without me.”
He took a step closer. He looked pained. “I know you’re angry with me for all that’s transpired.”
“Angry?” she said, cocking her head. “What reason would I have for being angry with you, Costas? For shamelessly spying on me for my grandmother for months now? For kidnapping a child from a sorceress who could kill us all with a flick of her wrist?”
“Yes. That, all of that. But I need you to know . . .” The guard glanced over his shoulder as if assuring himself that they were alone. “I didn’t do this with disrespect intended toward you, empress. I know I had earned your trust, and I valued that.”
“And yet you destroyed that trust in an instant,” Amara said. “Which was a grave mistake, I can assure you.”
His eyes searched hers. “I need to explain why I did it.”
“Lower your eyes to the ground,” she said curtly. “You are no longer allowed to look at me as anything but a servant.”
He did as commanded. “Queen Neela threatened my family, said she would have them killed if I didn’t do as she said. She said that, by doing as she instructed, I would be helping you, not hurting you. I felt had no choice.”
Amara wasn’t sure why this explanation felt like a shock to her. Of course it made total sense. “The royal guard are not permitted to have a family for this reason, so that they can’t be used against you.”
“I know. I thought I could hide the existence of my wife and son, but I couldn’t. I broke the rules—that much I know and accept. But it tells you that I was without a choice. I had to do what Queen Neela commanded.”
“You should have come to me with this earlier—much earlier.”
“I know. I can only beg for your forgiveness and assure you that I would die to protect you, empress. My life is yours.”
It explained everything. It didn’t excuse what he did, but she understood now why he’d done it. It wasn’t because he’d shifted his loyalties to her grandmother.
He’d acted out of fear.
“We’ll have to move your family somewhere more secure,” Amara said. “Somewhere my grandmother won’t be able to find them.”
Costas let out a breath, and Amara saw his shoulders relax a bit. “Much gratitude, empress.”
Amara picked up the wine bottle and poured the other glass. “Have a drink with me. Quickly, before we need to go to the ceremony.”
Costas looked down with surprise at the goblet she handed to him. “Me, your grace?”
She nodded. “Make a toast, will you? Something that will give me the strength to continue on with this challenging day.”
“Of course.” He raised the goblet, his brow furrowed in thought. “To the reign of Amara Cortas, the first empress in history. May that reign be one of light and hope and happiness for all who fall within her view.”
He drank deeply from his goblet.
Amara paused to consider his words.
Could she really do this? Could she be the first empress in the world—someone who would rule with a message of hope instead of fear?
She had to try.
If she was successful, she could truly be the legendary phoenix brought to life.
Amara raised the goblet to her lips just as Costas collapsed to his knees.
His face had turned red and purple, with blotches of sickly white. Blood spilled over his bottom lip.
“Costas!” she cried, dropping her goblet. “What’s happening to you?”
He couldn’t speak. He clutched at his throat and toppled over on his side, his eyes wide and glassy.
Amara staggered back from the body, from the bottle of wine that had fallen to the mossy ground of the courtyard, its golden contents leaking out.
In the space of a few heartbeats, a horrible clarity dawned on her.
The wine had been poisoned.
Poison like the kind Neela had supplied Amara to put in the wine she’d given her father and brothers. And now Costas was dead.
But Amara knew he wasn’t the intended victim.
She left Costas there, sidestepping his body so she wouldn’t get blood on the golden skirt of her gown. She summoned every piece of control she had over herself to keep any tears from spilling. She wouldn’t want to mess up the coal around her eyes, the stain on her lips. Her perfect hair and perfect wings and perfect day.
She thought her father might be proud of how she managed to pull herself together and head to the tall emerald-colored doors of the ceremony hall, where a flank of guards waited to escort her inside.
She let them.
Amara entered the hall, and a thousand people she’d kept waiting rose from the gleaming wooden benches to their feet. She moved down the aisle toward the front, where there were ten steps leading to a raised stage.
On that stage were three people. The Grand Augur, wearing magnificent purple velvet robes. Her grandmother, wearing a gown of silver finery nearly as beautiful as Amara’s. And Mikah, on his knees, his hands bound behind his back.
She forced herself not to hesitate. To take each step as proudly as she’d be expected to by all witnesses. Finally, she stood next to the woman who had just tried to murder her and take her power.
After Amara, Neela was
the next in line for the title of empress.
“Beautiful,” Neela cooed. If Amara had expected to see surprise at her arrival from her grandmother, there was no hint of it at all. “Even more beautiful than I expected. We should keep Lorenzo in Kraeshia forever, don’t you think?”
Amara pushed a smile onto her lips. “Oh, yes. Most definitely.”
How could she untangle herself from this deceptive, lying creature of darkness and make everything right again?
Not now, she thought. Later. I’ll think about this later.
Now, all she could do was hope that Nerissa and Felix had done what they’d promised.
She barely heard a word the Grand Augur spoke during the ascension ceremony she’d dreamed about all her life. Something about history and family honor and the duties of a ruler.
All she knew was that it was over far too quickly.
Now Neela held the golden scepter, facing Amara on the stage.
“You are worthy to wield this, dhosha,” Neela said, her smile fixed upon a face far younger-looking than should have been possible. Amara wondered if her mysterious apothecary was responsible for poisons as well as youth-inducing elixirs.
Amara watched her grandmother carefully, looking for any sign of guilt, but she found none. Had Neela expected Amara to show up at all? It could only have been a best guess that Amara would go back to her courtyard and find the wine.
How many other traps had been set for her by someone she’d loved and trusted?
“Now,” the Grand Augur said, opening his arms wide as he addressed the silent, obedient audience. “The last piece of this Ascension must now lock into place: a blood sacrifice. A rebel who attempted to overthrow the royal family, who colluded in the murder of the former emperor and princes. Today his blood shall spill to wash away the past and welcome the future of Empress Amara Cortas.”
Amara moved toward Mikah, mindlessly separating the scepter she held into its two parts—sheath and blade.
Mikah didn’t flinch, didn’t try to escape.
“Do what you must,” he told her with a sneer. “Prove to me you’re as evil as your father was.”
Despite this show of bravery, he inhaled sharply as she pressed the edge of the blade to his throat.
One simple thrust of her wrist and she would officially be empress, and no one could oppose or control her.
It was so tempting. Then, she could send her grandmother far away, where she would never be heard from again.
Amara could have all the power she ever desired and do with that power everything she ever dreamed.
But before she could decide what path she would now take, the hall erupted in chaos. A group of masked, armed figures swarmed inside, battling against the guards in a blur of arms and legs and weapons. The clash of blades quickly became deafening.
Heart pounding, Amara turned back toward Mikah just in time for him to kick her hard in her broken leg. The pain shot up her spine. She dropped her weapon as she fell to the floor. Then he was gone, out of her sight. She searched for her grandmother but couldn’t spot her either.
Amara turned around to find a sword pointed at her face, and the dark and hateful glare of a rebel’s eyes.
The man took a step forward, moving the blade to her throat, but just as he did he was shoved aside. The sword clattered to the ground as the rebel fell. Felix stood before her, offering his hand. “I should have let him kill you. But I’d rather keep that honor for myself one day.”
“Not today?” she asked tensely.
He frowned at her. “Unfortunately, no.”
Nerissa came to Felix’s side as the battle between rebels and guards continued behind them. Guests fled for the exit in a frenzied, frightened stampede.
“We did our part,” Nerissa told her as she elbowed her way through the crowd. “This will be an excellent distraction for us to get to Lyssa.”
Amara nodded. With no time to speak or make suggestions or do anything except try to avoid being struck down by a rebel’s blade, she led Nerissa and Felix out of the ceremony hall to the nursery her grandmother had taken her to earlier that day.
Each step on her newly injured leg hurt. She hoped very much the brace would continue to hold as she hobbled along as fast as she could down hallway after hallway, passing swarms of guards headed in the opposite direction.
Of course Amara was recognizable in the Spear even without her golden gown. She knew she couldn’t hide from these guards as she hurried down the hallways toward her destination, so she didn’t try.
“We will control the situation, empress,” one guard told her. “You do not have to fear.”
A lovely promise, she thought. But not possible at this point.
She feared. She feared very much the outcome of this day.
After awkwardly ascending the stairway to the floor of the nursery, Amara led her personal pair of rebels down the last hallway to the unguarded door at the end.
“Lyssa is in there.” She gestured toward the door, while scanning the area. “The guards on duty must have been called away to join the fight, but the door will be locked.”
“That’s not a problem,” Felix said. He kicked the door hard, and it flew open.
Amara entered the room first, expecting to deal with nothing more than a frightened nursemaid.
But, of course, things couldn’t be that simple.
Neela was already in the room, alone, holding the baby in her arms.
“So nice of you to join us,” Neela said, barely glancing up after the door broke open.
Amara felt her heart sink in her chest. She tried to speak, but no words came.
Nerissa stepped forward.
“Put her down right now,” she demanded.
Neela smiled at her. “I don’t know you, do I?”
“No. But I know you. And you’re going to put that baby back in her cradle and leave this room right now.”
“No, actually, I don’t think I will.”
Felix stepped closer. “You know, I really don’t make it a habit to mess with old ladies if I can help it. But some old ladies need messing with.” He flashed his blade at her. “Step away from the baby and no one has to get hurt.”
Neela swept her gaze over him. “I recognize you, don’t I? Felix Gaebras, one of Gaius Damora’s bodyguards. The one that my granddaughter took to her bed at her first opportunity. And the one who was arrested for poisoning the emperor and my grandsons. How surprising it is to see you again.”
Felix’s eye narrowed on her. “And you’re the evil granny who’s responsible for everyone’s pain and misery around here. Every kingdom’s got one, it seems.”
Neela’s smile held. “I advise you to stay exactly where you are, Felix. We wouldn’t want this darling child to get hurt, would we?”
Lyssa cooed and stretched her little arms over her head. Amara eyed her uneasily.
“We need to give the baby back to Lucia Damora, madhosha,” she said aloud. “Felix and Nerissa will take her from here.”
Neela made no move to put the baby down. “Dhosha, are you being forced to comply with these rebels’ demands? Be honest with me. There’ll be consequences for lying, as I’m sure you know.”
Amara’s mouth went dry. “Why did you poison the wine, madhosha?”
Neela raised a brow. “What did you say?”
“The wine you left for me in my courtyard rock garden. You left me poisoned wine, because you hoped I’d drink a glass before the ceremony.”
“What? I admit I left you some wine, but it wasn’t poisoned! If it was, someone else is certainly to blame. You are my jewel, dhosha. My treasure beyond any other from the moment you were born.”
Amara searched her face, now uncertain. Could this be the truth? That someone else had found the wine and poisoned it? “I know you called my mother that. Your jewel. And I k
now she died for me . . . because of the potion. Perhaps you blame me for that.”
“No, I don’t blame you.” Neela’s eyes narrowed. “Your mother died because your father was evil and cruel and heartless. And now he’s dead, and I can dance upon his grave—and the graves of all men like him in this world. Now, I ask you again, are these rebels forcing your hand?”
Amara looked down at the peaceful face of Lyssa, nestled in Neela’s arms. Surely, her grandmother had held her like this, had cared for her when she was only a baby—a baby whose mother had been taken before her time.
And then the clouds parted outside. A ray of sun shone through a window at the far end of the room. Amara noticed something glinting in Neela’s grip, partially hidden beneath the blanket and pressed against the baby’s stomach.
A knife.
Amara took a shallow breath in. “Yes,” she forced the word out. “They are. They rescued Mikah and told me that if I didn’t bring them here, they would kill me.”
“I knew it!” Felix growled. “I will kill you before you leave this room, you deceitful bitch.”
“No, you won’t,” Neela said, revealing the blade for them to see as well.
“Please don’t!” Nerissa held out her hands and shook her head. “Don’t hurt the child!”
“If I do, it will only be because you gave me no other choice. It will be your fault entirely.” Neela shook her head. “And such a waste to spill even a drop of this baby’s precious blood. So here is how this will work. The two of you will leave here immediately and rejoin your friends downstairs, who, no doubt, have been captured by now, as they were the last time they attempted a siege upon the Spear. Then you will all be executed—the more blood spilled at my granddaughter’s Ascension, the better and more memorable it will be.”
Amara hadn’t moved, had barely breathed, as she’d listened to her grandmother calmly explain all this.
“And you . . .” Neela addressed Amara now. “I must say, your actions today worry me.”
Amara shook her head. “They shouldn’t. I am still with you in all ways, madhosha. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have everything I have today.” She needed to play along, needed to convince her grandmother she was trustworthy.