Untouchable (24 page)

“Yes.”

He tried to appear accepting, though she could feel that he was not. “I will miss seeing Jahn die, but the result will be the same. Come tomorrow, I will be emperor.”

“Will you forgive me?” she asked softly.

“I don’t know.”

It was the truth, but it could not change her mind.

She left Alix tied to the bed where they’d made love— and perhaps would again—and stepped into the hallway. She’d get lost on the hidden stairs, she imagined, and that would not do. She knew where the emperor resided, thanks to an earlier conversation with Alix.

The palace rose ten stories from the ground. Level One, which had once been the seat of power for the twins’ father, was at the very top. It was rarely used these days. Level Ten was at ground level, and Alix had told her there were two levels beneath the ground—there had once been three levelsthere, but Level Thirteen had been filled in. He had not elaborated, but when he’d spoken the words “Level Thirteen, ” she had experienced a soul-deep chill.

Jahn now resided on Level Eight, which was three stories down from this floor where Alix made his home. All she had to do was get there and do what had to be done.

She walked slowly but with determination down the stairway, and when she reached her destination and stepped into the wide hallway, she was not surprised to see three sentinels standing guard at what had to be the entrance to the emperor’s bedchamber. Instead of appearing alarmed, she gave them her best smile.

“Good evening. I’m here to see the emperor.”

“At this hour?” one asked. Another poked him in the ribs.

It was no mistake that the dress she’d fashioned showed her figure to its best advantage, or that her shoulder was bare or that a hint of cleavage was revealed. No one would mistake the apparent reasons why she wished to see Emperor Jahn.

“The emperor will soon be taking a wife,” one of the sentinels said with disapproval.

“But he has not taken one yet, has he?” Sanura asked with a seductive smile.

“No, but...”

“I am a gift from the King of Tryfyn,” she said. “Would you send me away without even telling the emperor that I’m here? Would you rob him of the pleasure which is offered by a woman of the Agnese?”

“A woman of the . . . what?”

Sanura sighed. “Just tell him I’ve arrived, if you please.”

“He might be sleeping,” one of the guards said.

At that moment they heard a loudly delivered curse word which easily penetrated the large wooden door. Sanura smiled. “I think not. It sounds as if he’s in great need of my ministrations.”

Her heart pounded too hard and her mouth went dry. She wasn’t sure she could do this, but what choice did she have? It was her fault the shadows in Alix now ruled. Her fault! The least she could do was to save him from an act which would forever taint his soul.

She did not think of her own soul at the moment. Could not.

The youngest of the guards slipped into the emperor’s room and was back a moment later with a nod to Sanura.

If they searched her for weapons and found the knife, they’d probably kill her. But the knife was small and there was not much in the way of hiding places on her person, especially since the sheet she wore parted and revealed her long legs as she walked toward the guards and the open door. She smiled at the men, men who at this moment wished to be Emperor of Columbyana simply because she was walking into his bedchamber.

The emperor awaited her, sitting on a large chair on the side of the room away from his massive bed. He was a handsome man, much prettier than Alix and more fair of hair, though there were darker streaks mixed with the blond. Even though the hour was late, he was still dressed in imperial crimson. His face was set in stone, but he was curious. Curious, confused, angry . . . and a good man, in spite of all his faults.

“King Bhaltair sent you?”

“Yes,” she said as a sentinel closed the door behind her, leaving her and the emperor alone.

“I have heard a distressing rumor that Princess Edlyn was murdered.”

“I’m afraid that is true.”

“I also heard that my brother, Prince Alixandyr, did the killing.”

“That is not true.”

A wave of relief washed through the emperor’s body. “Thank the gods. I knew he couldn’t do such a thing, but I have received word from more than one quarter that he did this unspeakable deed. Where is he? Do you know?”

Sanura hesitated before shaking her head. Lying did not come easily to her, but what was she to say?

“You are Sanura, correct?” he asked.

She nodded. “I am. You have heard of me?”

“The sentinel who just yesterday delivered word of the princess’s death told me that Alix escaped with a blue woman named Sanura. Though you are no longer blue, you do match the rest of his rather vivid description.” His eyes raked her up and down. “There are also at least two Tryfynian soldiers in Arthes who insist upon taking Alix’s head, as well as two very insistent wild men in residence who are adamant about killing Alix for touching you.”

“Paki and Kontar are here?” she asked, her heart thumping.

“Yes. We’ve been doing our best to keep them occupied, but they remain quite insistent on killing my brother.” His expression hardened. “I cannot allow that to happen.”

“Don’t hurt them,” she said as she took a step toward the emperor. “They’re only doing their duty.”

“To protect you,” he said, almost as if he did not quite believe what he said.

“Yes.”

“Where is Alix?” he asked again.

“I told you, I do not know.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Sanura stopped a few feet away from the emperor. The weight of the dagger which was tangled in her clothing grew heavier with each step she took. With three guards outside the door, it was unlikely she would survive once the emperor was dead, but if it meant Alix did not have to carry out this monstrous task . . .

She sensed something unexpected from the emperor, something which stopped her in her tracks and took her breath away. “You know,” she said.

“I know what?” he snapped impatiently.

“You know about Alix’s struggle. At least—you suspect that something is not right with him.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

He was protecting his brother, he loved his brother.

“The shadows, the dark battle, the tight control...”

Emperor Jahn placed both hands on the arms of his chair and stood, moving slowly so that he coiled from his chair like a snake rising to strike. “You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” he said tightly.

“I know too well, I’m sad to say,” she said. “For years a darkness has lived within Alix, wishing to rise and take power, to take control. His determination has kept that darkness deep within until I unknowingly unleashed that which Alix has fought all these years.” Was it safe to trust this man? Did she dare tell him everything? “What you do not know, what I have just come to understand, is that both parts, he who fought and he who tried to rise, are one and the same. Alix was fractured, but he is fractured no more.”

“So you do know where he is.”

“Yes.” Sanura reached into her clothing and pulled out the dagger with which she had planned to kill the emperor. “I came here to murder you.”

“Did he send you?” Sadness radiated from the emperor, but there was very little surprise.

“No. He plans to do the assassination himself, but I cannot allow that to happen. He will never recover from such a dark deed.”

“Neither will I, I imagine,” the emperor said dryly. He pointed to her small dagger. “What made you think you could kill me with
that
?”

“My plan was simple. I would get close to you, promising all that I was meant to give, and when you were lost in desire, I would stab you through the heart.”

“Ouch.” He laid a hand over his chest. “Lucky for me I have enough womanly trouble at the moment and would not let you get so close.”

She tossed the knife onto his large bed, knowing that she could not kill this man any more than she could kill Alix.

“I am responsible for the change in Alix, though it was unknowing. I would never hurt him, never.” She looked the emperor in the eye. “I love him.”

“Enough to commit murder in his name?”

She glanced at the dagger, which sat on the bed, out of reach. “Apparently not.”

“So, what now?” the emperor asked testily. “Less than three months ago I set in motion a silly contest for the position of empress, and at this moment two of the candidates are dead, killed en route by accident or malicious intent; my brother is wanted dead by two burly, saber-wielding madmen and more than a handful of Tryfynian soldiers; Alix appears to have lost the battle he’s fought for so long; and I...”

“You?” Sanura prodded.

The emperor shook his head and declined to continue. “My own problems matter little, at the moment. Where is Alix? Is there any way to save him from this?” He raked his hand tiredly through his loose hair. “As if you would know.”

“But I do know,” Sanura said. She stepped toward the emperor. “You love Alix, and so do I. Together we can save him. Will you help me, My Lord Emperor?”

Intelligent blue eyes looked into her own, searching for answers. The emperor had no reason to trust her, and yet he did. He had no reason to keep her alive, and yet he did not call for his guards and inform them that she’d come to his room with murderous intentions.

“What do you need?” he asked.

Sanura sighed in relief. “Time, m’lord. I need time.”

His eyes went hard with determination. “There are ten days remaining until the first night of the Summer Festival, ten short days until I will be obligated to make my choice. Will that be enough time?”

“I hope so, m’lord. With all my heart, I hope so.”

HE
had managed to free one hand and was frantically working on freeing the other when the door opened and Sanura slipped inside. Alix’s heart sank, and he hoped she would not see his instinctive reaction. How foolish of him. Sanura always saw.

“It’s done?” he asked.

She shook her head and walked toward him, taking the dagger from the folds of her form-fitting sheet-gown and placing it on the table near the door. “The emperor is not in residence. According to the sentinels I spoke to, I missed him by no more than an hour.”

“Not in residence,” he said as she sat on the edge of the bed and began to work at one of the bonds on his ankles. “I don’t believe you.”

She shrugged her shoulders, unconcerned. “In the morning you can ask them yourself. I suppose I could lie, but it would be a lie easily undone when the sun rises and your brother appears.”

“Where did he go?”

“The sentinels did not say.”

No, they would not tell her. They would tell him, though, when he asked. “When will he be back?”

“By the first night of the Summer Festival, they said, when he must choose his bride.” She looked him in the eye. “Are you horribly angry with me?”

“Yes,” he said honestly.

“Will you forgive me?”

“Probably,” he admitted grudgingly.

“I only wished to help you,” she said. “I don’t agree with your plan, I don’t even want you to be emperor, but if it is what you want . . .”

“It is.”

“Even so, you should not be forced to kill your own brother.”

She often referred to Jahn as his brother, instead of as emperor. Did she think he needed to be reminded? That if he heard the word often enough he would change his mind? “I will do whatever is necessary.”

“Too bad.” Sanura placed her body next to his and reclined there quite easily and comfortably, even though she knew he was still angry with her.

“Why is it too bad?” he asked. “Don’t you want to be the emperor’s mistress and have everything any woman could possibly want laid at your feet?”

She tilted her head back and looked at him. “Should I tell you what I truly want?”

“If you wish to do so.”

“You will not like it.”

“I suppose I won’t.”

Sanura rested her chin on his chest and draped her arms across his body, making herself more at ease. By now she was quite comfortable using him as her bed, her place to rest at the end of the day. “I want to be your wife, not your mistress. If your brother marries and has children, you will no longer be directly in line for the throne, so the production of babies would be less crucial for us, and I would not have to share you with an empress who will give you children and hate me for loving you.”

“You wish to be married to a man without power, without purpose? You would wish me to be nothing?”

“You will never be nothing, love. And you will always have power and purpose.” She snuggled deeper. “Now, allow me to finish telling you what I want.”

She had bound him to the bed and gone off to accomplish that which should be his, so he should be furious with her, he should deny her all that she wanted. He could not. He had done worse to her in weeks past and still she loved him. “All right,” he said with a lack of enthusiasm. “Proceed. ”

Sanura wiggled and made herself cozy. Her wiggling made him decidedly uneasy. “We could build a house on the outskirts of the city, a big house for you and me and Mali and...”

“Mali? The demon child?”

“You said you would let me finish.” She laughed easily.

This time he just grumbled.

“Mali and others like her,” Sanura continued, “other children who need instruction and care and love.” She rose slightly to look at him, and though he did not have her gift, he could see the heartache and the hope in her eyes. “Perhaps I cannot bear children, but that does not mean I can’t know a mother’s love, that I can’t give that love to Mali and others who need us. Who need
you
.”

“Why on earth would these demon children...”

“Half-demon,” she corrected.

“Fine. Why on earth would these
half-demon
children need me?”

“Because you understand their struggle,” she said. “Because you know what it’s like to do battle in your soul every day, just as they do.”

“Some of these children you speak of will be beyond saving.”

“Some will not,” she countered.

“This is a ridiculous conversation,” he said gruffly. “What you wish for will never be.”

“Perhaps that’s true, but you asked me what I wanted, and I told you,” Sanura said confidently, unshaken by his response.

What she wanted and what he desired—what he needed—could not live in harmony. Once Jahn was dead and Alix’s darkest dreams came true, it was likely that what he and Sanura had found together would wither and die. She would still love him, he knew that, but their love could not flourish as it did in this room.

“Jahn won’t be back until the first night of the Summer Festival?”

“That is what I was told.”

“I will ask in the morning,” he said, still wondering if she was lying to him to buy Jahn more time in this life—to buy them more time in this room.

“Please do so,” she said. “You will find that I told you only the truth. Like it or not, we have ten days before you can proceed with your plan. What shall we do while we wait?”

She knew full well how they would spend their time. “We will eat, and sleep, and shake the very walls of this room with sex, and I will dress you in proper gowns and show you off and...”

“Oh!” She jumped up. “I almost forgot. You’d best not show me off until you’re emperor and have complete power. The sentinels also told me that Paki and Kontar are here, as well as two angry Tryfynian soldiers who wish to take your head. We’d best spend the next ten days right here.”

“Paki and Kontar are in the palace?”

“That is what I was told.”

Alix grinned and began to untie the red sash which held the sheet to Sanura’s form. If they had ten days, he would not waste a moment. “Will your diligent guards have the blue?”

“I’M
not going to change my mind.”

Verity stared at the palace straight ahead. In nine days’ time, the emperor would choose his bride. She’d been so confident that he’d choose her—and now she would never know.

Laris was being stubborn, a trait she had not known he possessed until he’d asked her, in his own way, to marry him. “You need to take a good look at what you might have if you make another choice.”

“There is no other choice,” Verity insisted. “I’ve told you that several times, but you refuse to listen.”

“I just don’t want you to be sorry you chose me—not now, not in ten years’ time.”

She smiled. Never. Since they’d been arguing and he’d been winning, she did not reveal the deep certainty of her love. Perhaps later, when he was being more agreeable.

They walked toward the palace, as his family’s home was not all that far from Arthes, and she was in no hurry to rush to tell the emperor that she was withdrawing her name from contention. Really, a letter would be sufficient. But Laris had suggested—no,
demanded
—that she face the life she might’ve had, that she take a good, hard look at the palace that could be her home if she made another choice. The walk had taken most of the day, and even if they were able to take care of their business at the palace quite efficiently, it would be dark before they got home.

Laris did not know how stubborn
she
could be, that once she made up her mind, it was well and permanently made.

He held her hand, and frowned as she looked down at her dress. “You might’ve borrowed a better-fitting dress from one of the girls.”

“I like this one,” she said, plucking at the green skirt as if it were made of the finest fabric. “You bought it for me.” And he liked the brightness of her eyes when she wore the drab color.

“I’ll buy better, when I can,” he promised.

Verity smiled. In the letter she’d written to her parents to inform them that she was not dead, she’d also asked them to send along her things. Dresses, jewels, shoes, hair-clips. . . she would need them all in her life as a sentinel’s wife. Perhaps she and Laris would be poor for a while, but that didn’t mean she had to
look
poor. That certainly didn’t mean she had to act poor. Social skills were very important, and her mother had taught her well. With her help, Laris would rise through the ranks in record time.

The palace was impressive, but it also looked cold and stern and devoid of the laughter she had experienced at Laris’s family home. She had no doubts about her decision, not as she presented herself to the guard at the gate, a guard who allowed her to enter only because she was with a fellow sentinel; not as she prepared herself to meet with Minster Calvyno. She had quite a few things to tell him!

She and Laris waited in a small, finely furnished room which was intended for greeting visitors to the palace. There were a number of comfortable-looking chairs, not that either she or Laris wished to sit. They had walked for quite some time, but she was much too anxious to sit! On one wall there was a portrait of a man she supposed to be the emperor. He was handsome enough, but he was no Laris.

In short time Minister Calvyno arrived, appearing tired and more than a little put-upon. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked as if he could use some sleep, but that was not her problem.

“I am Lady Verity of Mirham,” she said, presenting herself with all the dignity she could muster, ghastly green dress aside.

The old man sighed. “Your trickery is wasted on me, young woman.” He took in her appearance with disdain, actually wrinkling his massive nose. “Lady Verity is dead.”

Verity was not intimidated, as he’d obviously intended. “No, I am not dead, Minister Calvyno, but that is no thanks to the man you sent to collect me. Gregor Wallis himself tried to have me killed, with the assistance of a traitorous sentinel named Cavan. If not for the interference of this fine and brave sentinel”—she pointed an insistent finger toward Laris—“I would’ve perished in the river, been dragged down and bashed against the rocks.”

“This is ridiculous,” Calvyno muttered. “Lady Verity was killed in a horrible accident, and...”

Her patience disappeared. It felt as if what was left just flew out of the top of her head. Good heavens, someone had tried to murder her, and this man was being no help at all! “Was the body recovered? No, it was not. Because there
was no body
.” She placed her hands on her hips in a pose of defiance. “I escaped death, thanks to Laris, and then we overheard those awful men talking about giving something irritating to my mare, Buttercup, to make her bolt, and we ran for our very lives.” She nodded her head decisively. “And by the way, when Buttercup is recovered, I demand that she be delivered to me immediately. If what those horrid men gave Buttercup damaged her in any way, heads will roll.”

Calvyno turned to Laris. His eyes looked more tired than they had just moments ago. “Is any of this true?”

“All of it, sir,” Laris said, calling upon a very official and sentinel-like voice. “Deputy Wallis and Cavan conspired to murder Lady Verity. Wallis also mentioned that he had been hired by someone to see the murder done. Once I understood the situation, I thought it best to deliver Lady Verity myself. I did not know whom we could trust, so it seemed best to trust no one.”

Verity felt a surge of pride. She had never heard Laris sound so commanding and fearsome.

Minister Calvyno, who had been dismissive of her, listened intently as Laris explained all that had happened. Well, he explained most, leaving out their most private matters. Some things were none of his business, after all. He conducted himself very well, not at all intimidated by the highly placed minister.

Though Verity had seen Laris in his official capacity during the early days of their travels, until someone had tried to kill her, he had not been called upon to act in any truly sentinel-like way. He was a very good sentinel, she imagined. Quiet and thoughtful, determined and smart, dedicated and more handsome than all the other sentinels.

A brilliant thought occurred to her as she watched and listened to the two men. She had not turned her back on her destiny to be the wife of a great man who came from humble beginnings. Not at all. Mavise and her mother, and even she, had been wrong about who that great man would be, but other than that, all was as it should be.

Yes, Laris would make a fine Minister of Defense one day.

Once Laris had convinced the annoying Minister Calvyno of the truth, the tired man moved to the nearest chair and sat. Hard. “I can’t believe this. Deputy Wallis seemed so upset when he delivered the news of your...death.”

Verity put her hands on her hips. “He’s here? In the palace? ”

“I’m afraid so.”

Verity pointed a firm finger at the minister. “I want that horrible man tossed into in your deepest, darkest dungeon. You
do
have a dungeon, don’t you?”

“Of sorts,” Calvyno admitted.

“Put him there, and never let him out.”

Calvyno regained his composure and stood with a tired sigh. “Done. Now, let me see you to your quarters. The emperor will be most pleased to hear that you are not deceased. He’s not in residence at the moment, but...”

“I’m not staying here,” Verity said. “And I’m not going to marry your emperor.”

“But...”

She had planned a more gracious way of delivering the news, but was much too agitated to remember it all. “I’m sure he’s a very nice man, but I have my own very nice man now, and I don’t need another. Do you have a priest about?” She turned to look at Laris and smile. Now he would believe that she had no intention of changing her mind. The wedding, and the wedding night, could proceed. “We could get married here. Now.” And if that could be arranged, perhaps they would take the minister up on his offer of a room for the night. It was the least he could do, considering the circumstances which had brought her here.