Burning Glass (35 page)

“Very well,” Nicolai said, as if the order of appearance in the council chamber was the only decent plan we’d concocted.
He bowed and wasted no time in exiting the room.

I stared at the door he shut and tried to make sense of what had just happened. “Why did you threaten him like that?” I turned on Anton. “That’s not like you—you who believes everyone should be free to make their choice without coercion.”

He didn’t answer, only took me by the elbow and hurried me to the nearest window.

“What are you doing?” I asked. My pulse raced with his sudden anxiety. I frowned at the window frame stretching from the floor to an arched point near the ceiling. The curtains rustled as he planted me in front of them. Why had he brought me here?

“It doesn’t matter what happens to me,” Anton said, “but you must live.” His aura was fierce and blazed along my spine. “Without you, all is lost.”

My brow creased. “Well, you must live, too.” I didn’t understand what had come over him. “You’re not leaving, are you?” My legs went weak at the thought.

“I will stay with you as long as possible.”

Why did he make it sound like there would be a time we must inevitably part? “If it comes to it, you
will
fight,” I said. A command, not a question. “If you mean to tell me by all of this you won’t even raise up arms to defend yourself, then I will.” He wasn’t the only one with a penchant for protectiveness. “I will take your saber and be your shield.”

He grinned at me sadly. The dust in the glow from the window gilded the edges of his face, as it did that day in the council
meeting. Somehow it made him look holy and already distant, despite how close we stood together. “You will be wonderful,” he said, and I knew he meant something else entirely. “You were born to do this.”

I placed my hand on his chest. “Anton . . .”

At my touch, he stiffened and a look of heavy resolve fell upon him. “Though you were not born to be with me.” He stepped back and created more space between us.

My hand dropped, my fingers curling with hurt. “I thought you believed in equality. Why am I not good enough for you?”

“Sonya . . .” His brows hitched up in pain. “Have I ever made you feel that way? Equality is an
ideal
but rarely the truth. In all respects, you are my better.”

My heart swelled with love for him. I blinked back tears. Why did this feel like an ending, like the glass of the window would shatter with the first volley of musket fire?

This couldn’t be the end. I wouldn’t allow it to be, not unless he truly understood my feelings for him.

A commotion rose from behind the doors to the ballroom. Boots clapped the marble and echoed louder—nearer—like the rolling of thunder. “In here!” someone shouted.

Anton cursed. “Nicolai,” he spat under his breath.

My eyes flew wide. “The count betrayed you?” I asked in disbelief. “And you
knew
he would.” To save his own neck, Nicolai must have revealed Anton’s part in the revolution, regardless of his word to stay true to the prince.

The muffled sound of drawn sabers split the air. An
onslaught of Imperial Guard was coming.

Anton shoved me behind the curtains. “Promise you won’t make a sound.”

I stumbled into the recessed window and blinked against the harsh sunlight outside. My heart pounded. “No!” I turned and wrestled with him past the heavy cloth. “You can’t leave me like this. I won’t stand by while they take you away!”

“Listen to me!” Anton slid in past the curtains and held me still. “I have done my part. I need you free to do yours.”

“But—”

“Hide and live and reach my brother. If you care for me at all, Sonya, do as I say.” His face was stark in the light. Dark shadows plagued his eyes from fatigue, but his irises were golden, regal as a monarch’s, the king he would always be to me.

The raucous noise of the guards reached a crescendo. My throat thickened with emotion. I couldn’t draw forth any sound, so I nodded my promise, my heart ripping apart.

And then his beautiful face was gone, just as the great doors groaned on their hinges. I pressed back into the glass.

“Seize him!” someone commanded. With a start, I recognized the voice as Valko’s. His familiar aura met mine like poison.

Boots shuffled with the rattle of chains as the guards clapped the prince in irons. Anton didn’t groan or make a sound of struggle. I wanted to scream, to burst out and fight the men, even though I had no weapon. Instead, I squeezed my lips together and fought to keep my labored breathing silent.

“Take him to the dungeons.” Valko’s words were emotionless
now that Anton was captured, as if arresting his own brother was nothing of importance. But I knew differently. I felt the triumphant smile in his aura. “He can make his bed on the muck of his favorite gypsy traitor.”

Chains clanked and boots clipped the marble floor as they guards went to leave, no more thunder in their movements, only the sad patter of an abating storm. I sensed their reluctance to lock away the prince of the empire alongside their resolve in their duty.

“Keep an eye out for the sovereign Auraseer,” Valko called after them.

I tensed at his words.

“She had no involvement in this!” Anton’s anger scorched my skin.

Valko ignited. His voice was no longer cool and apathetic. It flamed with rage. “Not warning me of the threat of a traitorous prince is all the involvement she needs to be sentenced to death!”

A shock of cold seized my body.
Would Valko really kill me?
I trembled as Anton’s chains clashed and scraped in his struggle to break free. “You bastard!” he shouted.

“No, brother,” Valko replied, his voice so arrogant I could almost see the sneer on his face. “Unfortunately for you, I didn’t die. I was never the changeling prince.”

The ruckus of jangling irons and angry curses grew dimmer as Anton was dragged away. I scarcely dared breathe. If I did, I would scream.

How could I help Anton now? How could I save him? How could I save anyone?

Valko’s energy lingered in the room. I felt the horrible weight of the sapphire around my neck. My fingers curled like frozen claws against the windowpanes. I fought the urge to rake my nails down the glass.
Go away
, I silently pleaded. I couldn’t face Valko now. I had no chance of persuading him when all I felt was my harrowing fury and despair.

At last, the emperor’s haughty footfall receded as he swaggered out of the room, and the latch on the door clanged shut.

All of the oxygen rushed out of my lungs. My tears fell. My body slid to the floor. I burrowed into the window, my cheek pressed against the panes. The heat of the sun melded into my bones, but brought me no warmth.

Outside, a man with a flop of dark hair and sloping shoulders exited the palace. He took the long walk from the porch to the gate in quick strides.

“Coward!” I cried in a strangled whisper, and smacked the glass with my fist. I held no empathy for him, only hatred.

I forced myself to stay hidden until I felt no trace of Valko’s aura. Then I fled out of the ballroom, down the main corridor, across the amber lobby, up the twirling flight of stairs, and into my chambers. Shoving my box bed aside, I raced through the red door, the lavender door, and crumpled on the dusty planks of the nursery room.

I sobbed and shook and screamed until my throat burned dry. The painted eyes of the rocking horse and nesting dolls
watched me with disinterest. I picked up the largest doll and prepared to hurl it across the room, when a rush of frenzied curiosity urged me to be silent.

I listened. Moments later, I heard the muted sounds of a door burst open, furniture knock about, and thuds hit the floor. The emperor’s guards must be raiding Anton’s chambers, only two rooms away.

My heart pounded as I clutched my hair at the scalp. How much longer could I hide? How was this serving anyone I still cared about? Because I hadn’t acted fast enough, Pia had died. When I went to plead for her life, Valko had already executed her. Now Anton and Tosya were next.

From the moment I had agreed to take part in this revolution, I knew I would have to confront Valko and use my ability to persuade him. I had hoped when the time came I’d be courageous, like the plaintively beautiful Armless Maiden. She looked down at me from the flaking mural of Riaznian fairy tales. Pia had finally read her entire story; it took her seven long nights to stumble through the words.

As I imagined my friend’s sweet voice again, I recalled my favorite part of the tale. In her moment of trial, the maiden wasn’t brave, she was terrified. Her baby had fallen into a well, and to save him she needed to reach inside. Having no arms below the elbows, she despaired, knowing the task was impossible. But when an old man asked her to use fortitude and faith, she did. She stopped seeing herself as the victim of her past and started believing in a future where she was whole again. Her
arms grew back until her hands were restored and she was able to reach her son.

My situation was just as dire. I couldn’t have dreamed of worse circumstances in which to try to bend the emperor’s emotions—not when I was wanted for arrest, Anton and Tosya were imprisoned, and the people were coming to storm the palace.

I shook my head and rocked back and forth. There was too much pressure, too many ways my attempts could go wrong. Too many people who would die if I failed.

I looked up to the Armless Maiden. Her face was heart-shaped like Pia’s.

Try,
Sonya.

Reach.

I remembered the lovely depths of my friend’s eyes, the sun in her aura.

I had to do this for her.

Still trembling, I rose to my feet and wiped the tears from my eyes. I brushed the nursery room’s dust from my dress and walked through the evergreen door, the midnight-blue door, and when I met the surprised looks of the guards in Anton’s chamber, I said with as much strength as I could muster, “I believe the emperor is looking for me.”

A
S THE GUARDS USHERED ME INTO
V
ALKO’S CHAM
BERS—THEIR
grip tight as vises, despite my willingness to come—my gaze riveted to the emperor across the room. He stood in the open doorway of his balcony. Sheer curtains wisped around him. The breeze played through his hair and made him appear gentle and handsome. Adding to the effect were his bare feet jutting out from the base of his trousers and his loose, untucked shirt. He leaned against the doorframe, his gaze lost on the city. Something in his aura was also lost, also forsaken.

The largest guard shoved me in the back and prodded me forward. I blinked as pain smarted between my shoulder blades. It was enough to return my focus to the task at hand.

I studied the emperor with new eyes, and my muscles tightened and locked around my bones. A wave of revulsion swept the length of me. I had no desire to sense Valko’s sorrow or grant him pity. He had killed Pia and arrested Tosya and Anton.
He was callous. Heartless. I wouldn’t believe he could be anything more than cruel.

But of course that’s exactly what I needed to feel—that it was possible he was genuinely suffering and miserable, and that he had reason to be. Only then could I find any point of connection with him. I needed pure empathy to use my gift to persuade him to abdicate. Without that grafting branch of compassion, I had no hope of overpowering him.

“We have brought the sovereign Auraseer, Your Imperial Majesty,” the largest guard announced, and prostrated in a bow without easing his grip on my arm. His pride transferred through the sleeve of my dress and my skin, but I pushed it away. Pride was not an emotion that would help me.

Upon hearing his guard’s declaration, Valko’s gaze snapped around. His eyes brightened with longing, as if he couldn’t believe I stood before him. My heartbeat quickened and relief surged through my breast. I frowned with astonishment. Was it possible he still cared for me?

The warmth in his eyes only lasted a moment before it rapidly hardened to ice. My shoulders fell, and fear stole through my chest. His affection for me must be shattered, and I’d been counting on it to use against him.

“Leave us,” Valko told the guards.

My throat ran dry as I tried to swallow. I already dreaded being alone with him. The large guard holding me scowled with confusion at the emperor. He surely expected him to send me straightaway to the dungeons. But I knew Valko. He would
privately rebuke me first. His obsessive nature required nothing less. I would be lucky if I survived his wrath to even make it to the dungeons.

“Go!” he barked at the guards.

Reluctantly, they bowed and retreated, then shut the door behind them.

I blinked at the emperor and inhaled a shaky breath. I didn’t know what to do now that we were alone together. I shouldn’t break protocol by speaking to him first, not when I sought to appear penitent. Rooted by the door, I waited for Valko to approach or permit me to advance. He did neither. He only watched me silently from the other side of the room.

As his coldness slowly subsided, heated rage began to twist and coil inside him and churned a pit of dark and molten energy building pressure to erupt. My nerve endings flared with it. My muscles spasmed and cramped. I fought not to panic as I imagined all the ways he could torture me.

“Come forward, Sonya,” he said at length, his voice strangely calm.

Heart pounding, I made my way toward his magnificent bed. I had to skirt around it to reach the balcony doors where he waited. Such a large bed could only make a person feel minuscule and inconsequential. I clung to that pitying thought and scrambled to summon more like it—anything that would help me feel the tiniest sliver of empathy toward the person who had destroyed my friends.

Valko was justified in his anger for me. Beneath it, there was
surely hurt. I was someone he’d held in his closest confidence, given up alliances for, showered with praise and affection, even though I ranked far below him. Why would I betray him after all we’d shared together? Why had I protected his brother? Why side with Anton of all people—
Anton
, his utmost rival, the brother so many would choose over him to be ruler?

I curtsied once I reached Valko, but try as I might, the words
My Lord Emperor
stuck in my throat. My teeth ground together with my own anger, my own reasons for feeling betrayed. All the times Valko had professed his admiration only to bruise me later. His small kindnesses followed by stark reminders of my inferior place in his life.

“Sonya,” he said with that same false calmness as he unhitched himself from the doorframe and moved closer. His fingers skimmed the sapphire at my neck.

Every cell in my body screamed to recoil from him, but I held statuesque. His touch would be useful to me. It would heighten my awareness, help me understand what he was feeling.

“Your eyes are red,” he observed coolly. “Has it been such a terrible day?”

My brows lifted. What was he playing at? He knew I must be suffering after Pia’s death and Anton’s arrest. “Has the day been terrible for you?” I asked, and kept my voice soft and high, so as to not antagonize him. “I sensed your grief when I first entered.”

He grinned, and his gaze explored my face. “Such a clever
Auraseer.” As his fingers stroked my collarbone, I sensed his rage recede to a secret chamber of his aura, where he kept it within careful reach.

My perplexity over his mood change made my heart race with trepidation. Where was his retribution? How could he tease me with a provocative touch when he’d been so monstrous?

The only recourse I could think of was to play along with him—pretend my life wasn’t forfeit, as he’d told Anton it was. On the off chance this wasn’t a game and the emperor
could
grant me mercy, I might connect with that measure of compassion in him and use it to build a bridge between us. I could widen it to benevolence for
all
people and persuade him to relinquish the throne.

“Your grief is warranted,” I replied, and labored once again to show him my understanding—and find it for myself. “It must be a great blow to learn the only person left in your family may have plotted against you.”

Valko’s smile fell away. His hand withdrew from my collarbone. “There is no ‘may have,’ Sonya. Anton
did
plot against me.”

“Oh.” I feigned shock and sympathy. “The people will take this news hard, especially since that poet, Tosya, is already in prison. You must be worried the commoners will revolt.” I touched his arm, and his resentment amplified. I let it eat its way through my gut. He felt so abandoned within. All his life he was molded to be emperor. That destiny required his separation from his family, the taking of another boy’s life to protect his identity . . . And now, after all that sacrifice, the people of
Valko’s hard-earned empire were uniting against him. “My duty compels me to warn you, My Lord, that the commoners are most unhappy.”

His jaw muscle spasmed as he turned back to stare at the city. From here, it shone crystalline in the fading sunlight. The Azanel River sparkled unpolluted. The height of the nobles’ dwellings blocked the view of grime and poverty in the other Torchev, the half the emperor didn’t want to see.

I gently stroked his arm. “Perhaps, if you understood the reason why they are—”

I flinched, cutting myself off a second before he did as his sudden rage scorched me.

“I don’t wish to speak about the people!” He whirled on me with blazing eyes. “Your warnings do not serve me if they come too late!” Pressing nearer to me, he asked, “What did you suspect about my
brother
these past months? When did you plan to warn me about
him
?”

My hands balled into shaking fists as I fought not to let his fury overwhelm me. But then why fight it? I should abandon myself to it. “I’ve never sensed any hatred in Anton for you!” I lashed back and let his fire stoke in my belly. “What could I warn you about if the prince never wished you any harm? He is not a violent person!” My entire body trembled with rage.

Valko smirked and laughed a little as he tilted his head. In an instant, his scornful mood slid away, beneath its trapdoor. In its place emerged a twisted curiosity. “You seem to know Anton well,” he mused, baiting me.

Again, I was baffled by his shift in emotion. I sensed the threads of his manipulation wrapping around me, but not his motive.

“I am familiar with the prince’s aura,” I confessed, my anger quelling when his did, my voice lowering to match his volume. “It is my job as your protector to understand all those closest to Your Majesty.”

He arched a sardonic brow, but his gray eyes were flat with no amusement. “Then you could not be blind to Anton’s feelings for you.”

I winced as a flicker of his rage singed me.

“I believe he loves
you
,” I retaliated, and turned Valko’s accusation back on him.

He barked out a laugh. “
Love
me? He’s never stopped scheming for my throne!”

Startled by another scorch of anger, I retreated a step. The mounting betrayals of the past days were taking their toll—Valko was so unstable right now, so unhinged. I feared he was losing his grip on his sanity.

“Acting as the benefactor of a rogue gypsy,” he spat as he paced about, “is just another one of Anton’s tactics to turn the people’s allegiance.” The emperor’s words came faster as a manic temper seized him and made me claw at my wrists. “He’s already won the favor of the nobles. They would rather him rule than me. I can see that. I’m not a fool, Sonya.” He tapped his head like a madman.

It was impossible to grasp his aura, to bond with it. It was too slippery and scattered by erratic anxiety and hysteria. “As someone sharing your anointed blood,” I countered, “I only thought you would give the prince a fair trial.”

Valko’s eyes crinkled at the corners, but they were nothing like merry. He stopped his pacing and drifted nearer, so close his dangerous aura lifted the hairs on my arm. “I’m not a fool, Sonya,” he said again in a whisper. “Has my brother won your favor, too?” He traced a finger from my temple to my chin, then up to my lips. “Have you given yourself to him, when you’ve denied me?”

A dark sense of foreboding descended upon me. I stared into Valko’s eyes and realized with distinct clarity what had upset him most of all, what had provoked him beyond any other betrayal—he believed I had fallen in love with Anton. And he was right.

My heartbeat grew heavy with dread. I should never have turned myself in to the guards, never come here. I should have tried my luck in persuading the jail master to release Anton and Tosya. There was no hope in overpowering Valko now, not when all his energy was bent on punishing me for the worst of crimes. I had hit the nerve of his greatest insecurity—that his brother was loved more than he was. And now Valko would do everything in his power to make me suffer for it.

“What’s wrong?” The emperor’s finger still hovered about my lip. “Have I hit upon the truth?”

I shook my head. I wouldn’t admit to my feelings for Anton. Surely that would mean the prince’s swift execution. “It’s just—you’re frightening me, Valko. Your aura—”

“Yes.” He lowered himself to eye level, leering closer. “What about my aura, Sonya? Can’t I feel anything passionately? Must I always be restrained as emperor? You see what I do daily to prove myself to my empire, to my councilors, to everyone who pretends to support me at court. What must I do to prove myself to you? I’ve given you wealth.” He lifted the sapphire necklace and pulled me inward by the collar so our noses brushed. “Position.” His lips pressed against my cheek near the corner of my mouth. “I’ve given up Estengarde for you.” He kissed my other cheek, and I bit it on the inside to keep from whimpering in terror. “I’m not sure I’m ready to kill you, Sonya.” His mouth traveled to my ear and wetted it with warmth. “I still have faith you can learn to submit to me in all ways.”

I gasped for air against his suffocating desire. It flowered within him—within me. A sickly fragrance that made my nose burn.

“Your defiance is irresistible, Sonya, and that dark well of passion inside you is what allures me most.” Valko swept my hair behind my shoulder and traced the length of my neck with his fingernail. “I will not share you with my brother. You belong to me. You are an Auraseer of Riaznin, born with a gift for one purpose only—to serve your anointed emperor. When at last you fully abandon yourself to your emotions, I will be the one to taste it.”

I closed my eyes. This time I could not bite back my whimper. Was giving myself over to total abandon the last option remaining to me? Was baring all my darkness what was required to become one with Valko’s aura—to reach that point of empathy where he could inhabit all of me and I could inhabit all of him?

How could I endure it?

“Do you want marriage, Sonya?” he asked. His kisses traveled from one side of my neck to the other above the collar of my necklace, as if trying to sear it to my skin. “Is that why you hold back? The ancient law of Riaznin states an emperor can have three wives. Perhaps after I wed someone of high birth, I can condescend to marry you.”

I shuddered as revulsion soured my gut. The more Valko touched me, the more self-loathing I felt. He didn’t want to commit himself to me, but he did, and not out of anything mirroring love.

“Until then”—he slid my dress from my shoulder and grazed my skin with his teeth—“there is room for you in my bed.”

I wrestled away, no longer able to bear his monstrosity. “Please . . .”

“Please, what?” He straightened, his mood blackening again. “Don’t you understand? It doesn’t matter if you are my Auraseer or my mistress, the truth is you are mine.”

I shifted backward. “Then as your Auraseer I must beg leave of you. I must have my rest if there is to be a trial for both a prince and a poet.” I turned to bolt for the door.

He caught my arm and clucked his tongue. “There will be no trial—for either of them.” His voice grew cold and menacing as he leaned to my ear and whispered, “They will be executed at first light.”

My mouth parted in horror. My heart collided with my rib cage. I couldn’t find my breath. I had to leave—now. Find my way to the dungeons. Find a way to free Anton and Tosya.