Page 49 of Burn Her They Said
I stare back at him with pressure mounting in my chest, knowing what I am expected to do next. And yet—I cannot do this to you, Varic.
“You can do this.” His tone is low and soothing, and my eyes flick up to his once he says it.
“Only if you tell me what those terms you use for me mean,” I blurt in a whisper, keeping the Emperor from seeing my lips moving.
Varic’s cheek rises in a smirk, while his eyes sparkle back at me.
“Maybe someday,” he whispers, with a subtle shrug. “If you’re nice to me.”
My lungs depress a frustrated breath.
“Please do not punish me for not disclosing.” The small smile he shares with me is unfair treatment.
“You can do this, mei meida.” His breath skates along the exposed skin on my arms, and gooseflesh rises in its wake. “Please, Tasch. I want this.”
Tears flood my eyes, and I need to explain what he’s asking. To help him understand why it would be better for me to throw the black fabric mask into the flames and refuse him.
“I promise. I am exactly where I want to be. More than anything.”
The sincerity in his expression and tone shakes my very foundation as I lose all resolve.
Nodding in understanding, I pry the fabric apart with trembling fingers, then raise my hands and take a step forward. Our chests press together, and my lungs fill with nutmeg and cloves—him. The scent of my Varic.
I rise up on my toes before pulling the mask down over his thick brown hair, past the impossibly bright light behind his eyes, then the bridge of his nose to place it firmly over the shaven golden-brown skin of his cheeks and angular jaw.
His eyes watch mine as I pull the remaining fabric beneath his chin and bring the rest to hide within his collar, then raise my fingertips to smooth the hem covering his nose better before straightening the tight seam across his cheekbones.
We each release a breath and stare until an Imperial servant clears their throat, and I spin to take hold of the eyeliner pencil to uncap it.
Stilling my hand as well as I can, I tilt my head back when Varic leans in and drops his chin, allowing me to rest the pad of my palm on his cheekbone where I slowly, unevenly, draw distinct black lines over the thick row of black lashes. I hold my breath as the warmth of his hand envelops my wrist—never relinquishing his grip as he helps me to even out the line before moving on to the next.
Deep gray smoke fills my periphery, and I shake my wrist while tilting my head to indicate the Emperor. Varic’s chest expands with an intake of breath as he releases his hold just before His Majesty’s magic wraps around my wrist where he held me steady.
I make the final stroke without challenge, then step back to break all contact with Varic.
My captor finally retracts his magic from my wrist, and I resist the urge to rub the skin he held hostage.
My heart squeezes as I stare at him, utterly awestruck by how Varic appears in the full ceremonial uniform worn by my Guards. The brightness behind his eyes is amplified by the mask obscuring the rest of his otherwise distracting features.
The page steps forward, clearing his throat as he unfolds the scroll with the script I am to repeat for this traditional acceptance oath.
“Imperial Grand Witch Tasch, you are to look your prospective Imperial Lead Guard in the eye and repeat after me,” he explains.
Tears well within the black lines I drew around Varic’s lashes, and I swallow against the constriction growing in my throat, ruing this particular reaction happening just before I am to project my voice to be heard by thousands of citizens.
Varic steps closer, and I startle, not having expected it. “I will never be able to convey just how sorry I am that I failed to save Hendry,” Varic whispers. “And while I will never try to replace him, I vow to you that I will do everything in my power to take care of you, Tasch.”
An incessant ringing fills my ears as the page reads off the parchment, and I strain to hear well enough to repeat the words I have no real right to refuse saying to him.
“I, Imperial Grand Witch Tasch, do hereby accept you, Varic Euclid, as my Imperial Lead Guard. I vow to the Dragons, the Ampara Deicra Empire, and to you, that I will respect your leadership and trust your decisions regarding my safety from now until we are parted.”
Varic’s cheeks wobble beneath the fabric, and I pull in a deep breath, entranced despite the circumstances.
“It is with the Elder Dragons’ approval and Emperor Aldritch’s appointment that I hereby accept you, Varic Euclid, as my Imperial Lead Guard, from now until death.” My voice breaks over the last word, from the cruelty in being made to make this vow less than a day after Hendry’s horrific death.
Emperor Aldritch grabs hold of our wrists closest to him and promptly thrusts each high above our heads as Raki flies in a circle around them. “It is my honor to present our Imperial Grand Witch Tasch and her newly restored Guard. May their bond bring our Ampara Deicra Empire glory!”
Loud cheers assault my ears when the Emperor releases us, then routine carries me back to the space upon the stage I have occupied my entire adulthood. Only this time, Varic follows, taking Hendry’s place by my left-hand side, to stand between me and the Emperor, now and forevermore.
