Page 240 of Burn Her They Said
Frustration prickles up my skin as the Dragons refuse to explain any further.
“So we are meant to wait and learn what is to come of our Empire once the Emperor expires?” I shift my gaze between each of the Dragons hovering.
“All in due time,” Lucrea projects, his wizened voice resounding in my mind.
Lars steps away to stride over to Dranea. “Should we climb on your backs and leave, then?” Dranea releases a breath and turns to Sutrea when Lars adds, “We cannot keep Tasch here. Knowing the Emperor, he will go straight for her the next time he’s angry—which is nearly constant now, despite Tasch continuing to mitigate his moods.”
“You may stay in the dens until it is time to meet with your source,” Minea offers.
“I’ll be fine.” My voice rings true as all eyes land on my being. “I’ve survived twenty-six years under his command; what’s two more nights?”
Raki drops down to rest over the curve of my shoulder, and I tense every muscle in my body to prevent anyone from detecting the shiver rolling down my spine.
“He will be more on edge than usual after being reprimanded by a band of Dragons.” Varic’s expression is pained as he seems to consider all this might mean for my safety. “He will be even more cruel toward you—commanding you to use your magic in worse ways than usual, just to prove he can. To remind himself he still wields some form of power after his importance has been called into question.”
“It’s better than asking the Dragons to risk a war between their kind by taking us to another land, or to hide out in their dens.” I hold my head high as I deliver the message they all need to hear from me. “I am well-versed in how the Emperor must use me to prove his worth.” Brea and Sutrea grumble while they all pin their attention on me. “I can survive two more nights of his games.”
Varic tenses his fingers and encourages me to look at him. “I don’t like this.” His eyes search mine, and I cannot bring myself to argue back.
“Is there somewhere else we could easily survive until it is time to meet with your source? As far as I understand, we are at war with every bordering land aside from Annovia. And while Fray could fly me there faster, the rest of us would be separated.”
“She speaks the truth,” Minea says. “The only safe option would be to hide in our dens.”
“He isn’t going to kill me in the next two days.” I stare into Varic’s eyes, imploring.
Varic drops his head and folds his arms around my body, squeezing me tightly as he releases a breath over the opposite shoulder from where Raki watches.
My lungs fill with his warm spice scent, then every muscle in my body tenses with the thought that this is the way we embraced just before the Emperor stormed through those doors. Yet the longer he holds me, even the tiny spy digging his talons into my shoulders cannot keep me from melting into him. I revel in the warmth of his body without blocking it. Without keeping myself from accepting his comfort.
He slowly releases his hold to share a meaningful look with each of the sorcerers he leads. “We stick to the plan.”
Varic turns and bows to Minea, and we all mirror him. Then the giant green beast lets out a roar as he frees his talons from the railing and careens to the side before pumping his wings to soar further off. Awe strikes my chest as every other Dragon follows after him, and my heart leaps when they let out a roar in response as they all glide in a wide arc.
The magnificence of the moment is short-lived as a collective deep breath rolls through us and we prepare to survive the night like we have every one before this.
Chapter Eighty
Betrayal
Not even Fray’s dagger would be sharp enough to cut through the apprehension in the dining hall this evening. Generals from every region stare at their plates where servers pile a bit of every delicacy from an array of golden trays as we wait with bated breath for His Majesty to make his speech before any of us dare take either fork or goblet in hand.
General Sal’s hazel eyes flit nervously between the Emperor and me. My skin itches with suspicion until he lowers his focus to study the exposed skin on my chest, lingering much longer than would be considered appropriate. Varic turns, and his ears burn crimson the moment he follows the General’s line of sight to where it rests over my breasts.
His Majesty stands abruptly, scraping the legs of his dining chair over the marble floor, commanding our attention with his wine goblet held high above his golden crown as he shouts, “To Ampara Deicra! Our glorious Empire!”
We respond in kind with our goblets held aloft in response.
“Our Imperial Army is the strongest on the Continent.” The Emperor pauses to take a swig of his wine as cries of pride fill the gap in his announcement. He drains the contents, then holds his empty vessel out for a servant to fill. His expression shifts to one of intimidation as his Guards gently usher him back to his dining throne before he dismisses them with a wave of his hand. “Fear not! Our military will find those responsible for the recent attacks on the Palace. Now, let us dine!”
Cutlery scrapes over porcelain, a noise which vibrates within my frame until the edges of my vision grow hazy with the buzzing of tiny wings.
A shudder rolls through me as the edge of Raki’s wing clips my ear before it swoops around to land on the Emperor’s shoulder, nuzzling into the side of His Majesty’s neck before staring back at me.
Varic’s fists flex beside him, and I chance a glance where he narrows his eyes at my tormentor, sharing in my discomfort without any way of knowing how such a gesture helps me to feel less alone in this.
My shoulders droop along with my energy. Yet I force my frame to remain upright where we have been commanded to stand with the rest of the assigned witches. Voices echo off the stone walls of the Dungeons while I mindlessly twirl the stem of the crystal goblet, scanning the sea of black uniforms for any sign of General Sal, when I freeze—unable to breathe, much less blink—when the very same sorcerer bends over and seems to whisper in the Emperor’s ear.
His Majesty’s piercing gray eyes rise to pin mine, and the sound of shattering crystal draws my attention down to the red drops of wine rolling over the toes of my boots.
