《Renouncing the Emperor's Heart》


 Prologue

    ¡°I no longer want you.¡±


    Emperor Richard de Tristaine fumed as he looked upon the woman he was ready to abandon just a few weeks ago.


    ¡°You don¡¯t mean that,¡± he gritted out through clenched teeth.


    Empress Jovine smirked at the look on her husband¡¯s face. For months, he had neglected her, trading empty words of affection to placate her yearning heart, then leaving to find company in the arms of another woman. But now, she was done with it all. Done with him.


    ¡°I mean every word, Your Majesty.¡±


    ¡°Jovine,¡± he warned, his face flushed in anger.


    She stared at him blankly, no longer affected by his scolding tone. Before, she would cower in fear, always afraid of displeasing the man she loved.


    Not anymore. She would no longer endure the injustice. She would no longer allow them to trample on her.


    ¡°Yes, Richard?¡± she challenged.


    Jovine could see the surprise flit across his eyes. How long had it been since she called him by his name? Was it on their wedding night, when it escaped her lips during the throes of ecstasy? Or the rare moments they shared at the beginning of their marriage when he was kind and adoring?


    A sharp stab of pain spasmed in her chest at the thought of their short-lived bliss. They could have been so happy together. He could have been so loved, so cherished, so preciously regarded.


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    But, he forsook


    her. Left her behind for a woman intent on shattering their marriage.


    Left speechless, the Emperor had no words for his wife. Jovine internally scoffed at the sight.


    Bowing her head, she said, ¡°If there¡¯s nothing else, I shall take my leave.¡±


    Without another glance, she turned away from him.


    A harsh grip at her elbow yanked her back into a solid chest. She could feel the heat of his body surround her and, surprisingly, the thundering rhythm of his heart pounding against her delicate back.


    ¡°Why are you doing this?¡± Richard breathed into her hair.


    Jovine froze at the question. Why am I doing this?


    She seethed in anger, fury bubbling through her veins. How dare he ask that? How dare he, after all he¡¯d done to her?


    Even now, she could see the image of him caressing that treacherous woman as a pool of her own blood seeped into the sheets of his affair. Before the darkness had claimed her, the last thing she saw was the way her husband betrayed her with the very mistress who drove a dagger through her heart.


    She had died. But, now she was back. Back in time.


    ¡°Why am I doing this?¡± she repeated back darkly. ¡°I thought I told you, Richard. I no longer want you. In fact, I feel nothing for you anymore.¡±


    His sharp intake of breath at her words only fueled the rage building up in her chest.


    "You''re lying," he accused.


    Turning her head, she met his eyes. "What''s wrong, Richard? Isn''t this what you wanted?"


    "I never wanted this," he replied in a shaky voice.


    Jovine narrowed her eyes. Without another word, she shook off his touch like it disgusted her and walked away from him, ignoring his enraged shout as he desperately called out to her.


    This is only the beginning, she thought.


    By some miracle, she had traveled back to the past, and this time, she was determined to stay alive and reap tragedy on her enemies.


    Richard de Tristaine. Emilia Syrene. Are you ready for me?

 The Beginning

    Empress Jovine de Tristaine first fell in love with her husband on the day he proposed to her.


    Frankly speaking, their marriage was one of convenience. Born from the noble family of Rainer, she was raised to be the perfect candidate for Crown Princess and molded to be the wife and partner to Richard de Tristaine, the heir to the Theolos Empire.


    At the tender age of eleven, she had first met the brooding prince. Three years older than her, he had towered over her small frame, looking regal and threatening with those harsh dark blue eyes that narrowed on the timid girl in front of him. Since then, she couldn¡¯t help but be intimidated by the cold presence of the future Emperor she was supposed to win over.


    It wasn¡¯t until they were older that she started noticing his alluring charm. His brash personality hadn¡¯t changed much, but he grew to be devastatingly beautiful, with a luscious mane of dark hair, deep blue eyes that held a pool of mysteries, and a sharpness that made him feel strong and dominating. Not only that, but he started to smile in front of her. And, it was the way he let down his guard that had her falling.


    She could still remember the exact day it all changed.


    On the night of the Winter Solstice Ball when she was thirteen, Jovine had snuck out of the palace ballroom with a smuggled cloth full of chocolates. After days of eating under the watchful eye of her mother, who never stopped emphasizing the importance of sacrifice in beauty, she could not resist the seductive temptation of the decadent sweets piled high in mountains of sugar and luxury. So, after discreetly plucking a few from the plate of her third brother, Edgar, she stuffed them into a napkin and made her way to the gardens outside.


    With only the night sky as her witness, Jovine hid behind a marble fountain and stuffed her face with rich chocolates that melted on her tongue the moment it entered her eager mouth. She closed her eyes, letting a small cry of delight escape as she enjoyed her dessert, surrounded by lights and endless green.


    It wasn¡¯t until she heard the soft padding of footsteps fall behind her that she realized her escapade would be short-lived. Swiftly discarding the evidence of her indulgence in the band of her gown, she turned to quietly retreat, only to find the Crown Prince staring at her inquisitively.


    ¡°Y-Your Highness,¡± she had sputtered, quickly lowering herself into a clumsy curtsy.


    He was silent, and when she looked up, she found his expression curious.


    ¡°What are you doing out here alone?¡±


    With wide eyes, she lied. ¡°To... enjoy the stars.¡±


    Richard pressed his lips together, and she couldn¡¯t tell if he was displeased or not. Her cheeks flamed, flustered by the situation. She needed to be calm.


    With a dramatic wave of her hand to the dark sky above them, she smiled. ¡°The stars are as majestic as your presence tonight, Your Highness.¡±


    A burst of laughter from the prince had her lips parting in shock. It was the first time she had ever seen him smile. In fact, she never knew he had a small dimple in his left cheek. He was simply magnificent.


    Richard stepped into her as she remained frozen on the spot, too focused on the rare sight of his brilliant smile to react to his sudden proximity. With a gentle touch, he caressed her face, and her heart galloped furiously. What was going on?


    The slow stroke of his thumb across her lips had her jerking back in surprise. Looking amused, he examined his stained finger.


    ¡°Mm,¡± he pondered. ¡°Chocolate.¡±


    Jovine gasped in horror, the moment shattering with the realization of her oversight. She clapped her hands over her chocolate-stained mouth, wanting to burst out in tears from the embarrassment. This was not how a future Crown Princess should be seen.


    ¡°I-I¡¯m so sorry, Your Highness,¡± she mumbled behind her hands.


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    He tilted his head, smiling at her reaction, except this time, she was no longer in a position to appreciate it. Despite the easiness on his face, Jovine wanted to crumble away into the earth until she could be safely hidden away from her mortification.With quivering eyes, she squeaked out an excuse and scurried away.


    She avoided him for the rest of the night, turning her back on his amused glances from across the ballroom or fleeing from any chance of contact. She was quite successful in her attempts until she was forced to face him for her family¡¯s bid of farewell to the Imperial family.


    When he came to her to say his remarks and she avoided his eyes, he caught her hand and placed a customary kiss on the back of it, something so unexpected she jumped a little at the contact. With a discreet smile of mischief pressed against her heated skin, he inserted a small round object into her palm.


    In the carriage ride home, she discovered it to be a ball of chocolate covered in golden foil.


    Jovine fell asleep smiling that night.


    By the age of sixteen, Jovine was no longer afraid of him. Instead, she adored him. Found herself endeared by any and every thing he happened to do in her presence. She couldn¡¯t help but fall for the pitch of his reluctant chuckles during their brief acquaintances throughout the years, or the way he said her name and started calling her ¡®Jovie¡¯ as they grew more familiar. She loved how he would tell her stories from his childhood and the way he loved his family. She looked forward to hearing about his day or the plans he held for the Empire once he was crowned, just to be able to catch a glimpse into a life she could see herself sharing with him.


    And, most of all, she loved the way his gaze towards her would change as she grew into a woman. A direct reflection of her mother, Jovine grew to be as stunning as the renowned Marchioness celebrated for her beauty. With long golden hair that rivaled the gleam of the sun, turquoise eyes as clear as the Western Sea, and a gentle smile that softened the hearts of even the most glacial men, Jovine Rainer was a treasured gem of the Theolos Empire. Together, the two future monarchs made a most handsome couple, and Richard de Tristaine came to appreciate the vision his future wife became.


    When she finally came of age, and the betrothal was pronounced, the Prince, to her great surprise, requested a day to celebrate with her. So, after a peaceful day¡¯s journey to the Summer Palace, he brought her to a hill surrounded by a field of yellow roses that overlooked the expanse of the ocean.


    This place would later become her favorite escape, and this version of Richard ¡ª one who was carefree and young with the wind blowing through his hair and the sun coloring his cheeks ¡ª her most cherished memory of him. The image of him leaning back on a wool blanket, dressed down in a billowy white tunic that teased hints of bare skin, and grinning from ear to ear as he proudly presented a basket of baked goods and her favorite confections, felt like a sweet promise.


    As Jovine happily munched on the talents of the royal patissier, she could feel the weight of his stare on her. When she looked up, he gazed at her thoughtfully.


    ¡°I wanted to ask you something,¡± Richard murmured distantly, as if his words were present here with her, but his thoughts were elsewhere.


    ¡°You can ask me anything,¡± Jovine replied eagerly, curious beyond measure as to what question could have him looking at her like that.


    His lips twitched in amusement, but there was an unwelcome tension that suddenly intruded on their happy getaway.


    ¡°We¡¯re officially betrothed now,¡± he slowly started.


    Jovine nodded slowly, the direction of the conversation making her nervous.


    He opened his mouth to continue, but he hesitated as his finger started to tap on his knee, an anxious habit of his. ¡°You¡¯ll make a fine Empress beside me one day, but there are sacrifices that come with being the bride of the future Emperor.¡±


    Jovine swallowed the sour pastry she could have sworn was sweet.


    Richard suddenly stood and extended a hand towards her. She reached out her hand uneasily, taken aback by his sudden movement, but he caught her hand in the air, and in that moment, it felt like the beginning of a lifetime connection between the two.


    Holding onto her as she stood, he continued, ¡°So, while I can¡¯t promise you my love, I do promise you this, Jovine Rainer. I will be a good, committed husband to you. In times of happiness, like today, and times of heartache, I will stand by you, as I hope you will with me.¡±


    Jovine¡¯s heartbeats fluttered in staccato beats as he knelt down on the ground with a yellow rose.


    ¡°Our betrothal may be predetermined, but my mother did raise me to be a man of honor,¡± he said with a playful smile. ¡°So I ask you, dear Jovie. Will you marry me?¡±


    Jovine was rendered speechless. Of all the things she expected, having Richard de Tristaine bare his heart to her was never one of them.


    The Crown Prince of Theolos was not a warm man. He was cold and calculating. Although he had defrosted in her company, it had taken years of obligatory contact. Yes, he opened up in rare moments of vulnerability, but those were quite scarce and she couldn¡¯t help but wonder if every move he initiated was a calculation made to uphold his reputation or secure the loyalty of the people he required.


    Even his words were carefully worded. He never promised his heart, but he unveiled enough of it to convey his sincerity.


    In the coming years, when she looked back on this day, she would wish she had realized it. But, none of it mattered to her when she saw the way he beamed at her with hope in his eyes.


    Because, while she may not have his love, he had hers. Unconditionally. Irreversibly.


    So, foolishly, without another thought, she said, ¡°Yes.¡±

 Fading Bliss

    And, he planned for the good of the Empire with her as its future monarchs, treating her as an equal partner.


    As long as I have Richard, life is good enough for me, she often thought, but as always, the good never last.


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    That is exactly what¡¯s worrying me, Your Majesty. The Emperor and the heir to the throne have been absent from the Palace for five months, yet everyone is saying all is fine. No one has an obligation to me, yes, but the absence of our sovereign is the concern of the Empire, and the absence of my husband is the concern of mine.¡±


    I am here. I am ruling.¡±


    Am I understood?¡±

 Stranger

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    His father is dead, and he¡¯s in a state of mourning. Of course he could act like this, she told herself. But it couldn¡¯t soothe the wound in her heart.


    I don¡¯t understand, Jovine thought. What has happened?

 The Trembling

    Light. Air. Breeze. Salt.


    I open my eyes to the familiar sense of warmth and sea. The sight of the emerald ocean sparkling under the rays of sunlight brings a small smile to my face.


    This is my favorite place. My sole escape. And the scene that holds my most precious memories.


    The hill by the Summer Palace.


    Even now, I can hear the musical lilt of his laugh dancing along with the wind that smells like fresh earth and salty air. I can taste the sugar melting on my tongue. And I see him standing there, strong and unmovable against the backdrop of a cloudless sky.


    My heart skips a beat when I realize he¡¯s really here. Waiting at the top of the hill, he stands facing the ocean with his hands clasped behind his back. Looking solemnly at the view, he looks lonely and forgotten.


    Without a thought, my body moves towards him as if through the sheer force of nature, I am pulled towards the man holding my heart.


    He must hear me approaching because he turns his face, and as our eyes meet, he offers me a small smile. I soar with happiness at the sight of those rare smiles of his and that little dimple I always love to find. But, there¡¯s something distant about him as he looks at me, and I long to bring him closer.


    Richard walks towards me and takes my hand. ¡°Jovine.¡±


    Richard.


    I freeze when my mouth doesn¡¯t move at my command. I want to speak, yet nothing comes out.


    The gentle breeze crescendos until the current of air echoes through my ears. Richard¡¯s mouth moves in gentle syllables, but I don¡¯t hear a single word he says.


    ¡°Richard, what¡¯s going on?¡±


    My voice fails to escape me, and panic begins bubbling in my chest.


    ¡°I can¡¯t hear you,¡± I shout, but the gale carries my words far away.


    I try to move towards him, but my feet stay grounded.


    No. Let me move. Let me go to him.


    Richard goes on, oblivious to my state. He suddenly takes out a small, ornate box, covered in strange engravings and places it in an outstretched hand that looks like my own.


    Through the deafening sound of the wind, his muffled voice breaks through. ¡°This belongs to you,¡± he remarks, a small tilt gracing his lips. But, there¡¯s sadness weighing down his words.


    He starts to speak once more, but the malevolent wind comes back to oppress his voice.


    No. Please. Let me go ¡ª


    The sun abruptly darkens until all the color is bleached from the world.


    ¡°RICHARD,¡± I scream into the abyss.


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    The wind grows angry as it shoves at my swaying body, craving to rip me away from him. My vision grows dark, and the ground starts to rumble in reverberating trembles.


    The quake shatters my consciousness until it feels as if I''m falling into the unknown.


    No. Let me stay with him. Don¡¯t take me away ¡ª


    ¡°Your Highness!¡±


    ¡°WAKE UP.¡±


    What was that? she thought. She had never felt so much pain and suffering in one moment of time, and she couldn¡¯t even start to speculate where it had come from.


    Where are you, Richard?


    Come back to me. Come back home.

 Empress Helene

    When Jovine was a young girl, she would often hide in a closet to cry after being berated by her mother for falling short of her expectations or when she felt the constant ache of isolation as she sunk under the shadow of her three brothers.


    In that small, dark space, she cried until her tears ran dry and the sadness subsided to a numbing throb. Then, she would open the door, wipe her dried tears off, and smile.


    No matter how much she wanted to rage, she grew familiar with the suffocation of sealing it all in a little box inside, where she tucked it away safely to be opened when she was in her ¡®closet.¡¯


    So, in the mess of the Palace Halls, with the castle staff and her ladies staring in bewilderment at the changed Prince, Jovine dusted herself off and stood.


    ¡°You heard His Majesty. Tend to the wounded, treat those who need to be looked after, and let us clear away the mess,¡± she announced.


    When silence answered her, she exhaled a breath in resignation, and started picking up the debris of shattered glass around her feet. At her movements, the Palace came to life with people crying out in protest at her careless handling of the jagged shards of glass, but at her wave of dismissal, they reluctantly rushed back to their posts to return the Palace to a state of order.


    ¡°Are you alright, Your Highness?¡± Lady Margaret asked hesitantly among the growing bustle.


    Jovine hastily threw the wreckage in a spare sack someone had handed her. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± she muttered distractedly.


    But, she was far from fine. She wanted nothing more than to hide herself away from the eyes of those who had just watched her husband rebuke her. Except, now was no time for her to break. She had her duties, and she would adhere to them.


    Richard is mourning, she kept reminding herself. He¡¯s hurt and lashing out.


    Despite her own attempts to convince herself, however, she couldn¡¯t stop the onslaught of anxiety consuming her mind. What had happened in Mallory to change the Prince so drastically? What was the truth behind the death of the Emperor? Why did a sudden trembling come to visit Theolos, and how could Richard fail to acknowledge it?


    With endless thoughts racing through her head, she pushed herself through the pounding ache in her body and dealt with the Palace affairs.


    After checking on the wounded and confirming the well-being of the citizens outside the Palace, the maid she had sent to check on the condition of Empress Helene came rushing back to her with news.


    ¡°Your Highness,¡± the maid said breathlessly. ¡°Her Majesty wishes to see you immediately.¡±


    Jovine set down the reports she had received on the state of the city past the Palace walls. ¡°Is Her Majesty still very unwell?¡±


    ¡°The Royal Physician has assured us that she will be fine,¡± the maid replied. ¡°But, Her Majesty has requested your presence.¡±


    Jovine nodded, and after exchanging a few more words with Lord Maximus, the Royal Secretary overlooking the damages from the quake, she made her way to the Empress¡¯s Palace.


    When she arrived, she found it to be unusually quiet and scarce. Without a single Court Lady there to announce her, she raised a hand to knock on the door.


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    ¡°Come in,¡± a distant voice called from within.


    Jovine entered the drawing room, the creak of the door echoing through the dark night. All the lights were extinguished and a cold draft brought chills to shiver down her spine. The large expanse of the suite was too quiet as her footsteps sounded loudly in the silence.


    Walking towards the cracked door of the bedroom, Jovine felt uneasy. The last time she was in here, she had been dismissed by the Empress for her insistence at the prolonged absence of the Emperor and his son. And now, the Emperor was dead and Richard was¡­


    She didn¡¯t know what he was. Not yet.


    Once she entered the room, she saw the Empress sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the open balcony doors that waved its wind-blown curtains through the shine of the white moonlight. There were small items still left on the floor from the trembles, but nothing seemed to be in a concerning state.


    At her arrival, the Empress turned to look at Jovine, and the hollow look in her red eyes hinted at the crushing pain she must have been enduring from the agony of losing her husband. Jovine bowed in greeting at the frail Empress before her.


    To her great surprise, Empress Helene received her with a gentle smile. ¡°Come here, my child,¡± she said calmly, gesturing to her side by the bed.


    As she sat beside her, the Empress took her hand in her own cold ones and looked at her with a touch of affection. ¡°Jovine,¡± she started. ¡°I am so sorry.¡±


    Jovine widened her eyes at the words. ¡°Your Majesty, why should you possibly be sorry towards me?¡±


    The Empress looked down with a sad smile, holding her hand with a small pat. ¡°There are so many things I am sorry for towards you. The despair you must have been going through, how alone you must have felt. Words will never be enough to soothe the affliction that is still to come.¡±


    Unwelcome tears sprang into her eyes and her lips quivered dangerously, threatening to break the dam of tears waiting to be unleashed. ¡°Your Majesty,¡± Jovine whispered in a tremoring voice.


    At the first drop of sorrow, Empress Helene brushed it away with an expression of remorse.


    Jovine couldn¡¯t understand how she could be the one being comforted. She could see the pure heartbreak in the Empress''s eyes, yet she was here sharing her benevolence.


    Jovine grasped onto her hand. ¡°Please accept my heartfelt condolences, Your Majesty. The Emperor was a kind, fair ruler who embraced me into this family, and his death ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shhh,¡± the Empress soothed, bringing her into an embrace. ¡°No need to speak more on it, dear. It will all be better soon.¡±


    Jovine nodded, hoping her words were true.


    ¡°Jovine,¡± the Empress said in a faraway voice.


    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty?¡± she replied, sniffing away the last of her tears.


    ¡°Don¡¯t give up on him.¡±


    "Your Majesty?"


    Helene leaned back and stared at her in earnest. ¡°The road ahead is steep. And, I know you feel left in the dark. But, don¡¯t give up on my son. He needs you to bring him back.¡±


    Jovine frowned in confusion. There seemed to be so many things left unsaid to unravel the true meaning behind her sudden plea.


    Before she could ask, Helene continued on. ¡°I also need you to understand that I was wrong before. You have every right to be asking for answers. You are a strong leader, child. Don¡¯t forget who you are and where you come from. In the face of injustice, rage against it with shameless fury.¡±


    "I don''t understand..."


    The Empress smiled in sympathy, stroking her hair affectionately. ¡°It will all come back to you one day. One where all this nonsense will become clear. Now, go get some sleep. You have worked hard tonight, and the Empire owes you for it. Maximus will take care of the rest, so leave your troubles behind for tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°No, I am here for you, Your Majesty,¡± she objected, but the Empress insisted, dismissing Jovine to retire.


    With one last embrace, Jovine bid the Empress goodnight, and moved to reluctantly leave.


    Before she exited, however, she looked back once more to see the Empress clutch a portrait of the deceased Emperor in her hands, bringing it to rest atop her heart as she looked out at the balcony in somber sorrow.


    Under the glaring moonlight, Empress Helene was the image of regal heartbreak as the breeze and shine enclosed her in her mourning.


    ----


    At the click of the door sounding Princess Jovine¡¯s exit, Helene de Tristaine closed her eyes and let one last tear escape. For her dead husband. For her hardened son. And for the Princess who would soon face tragedy.


    Standing along with the beckoning breeze, Helene walked towards the open balcony, taking in the twinkling starlight and the city beyond that buzzed with life.


    Alexander always loved this particular view of the night sky against the city of his people. They had ended several days on this very site, watching over their growing Empire as they embraced under the gazing stars.


    But, she lacked the warmth of his arms around her now. She could no longer hear the rumble of his laugh vibrate against her back or feel the heat of his lips whisper words of love against her smiling face.


    Looking down at the picture of her beloved, she called out to him.


    ¡°I¡¯m coming, my love. I¡¯m coming to you.¡±


    Then, without hesitation, Empress Helene threw herself off the towering balcony and soared down to her imminent death.

 Regret

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    Don¡¯t give up on him.


    I will never give up on you, Richard. Until my last breath, I will stand by you.

 Crowned

    ¡°On that day, meet me here.¡±


    Jovine shivered under the canopy of the starless night sky as the scent of green and withering flowers caressed her. Sitting on the cold marble fountain, she plucked at a lone yellow rose she had found discarded on the seat.


    In the early months of their marriage, she would take frequent walks in the evenings with Richard in the Palace Gardens, the very place where he had discovered her secret chocolate escapade and where she had seen him smile for the first time.


    ¡°You were an endearing little rascal back then,¡± he had teased.


    She had looked at him in feigned offense, failing to keep her smile at bay. ¡°Rascal?¡±


    ¡°The way you smiled at me with chocolate slathered all over your mouth, talking about stars and other nonsense,¡± he had laughed.


    Jovine chuckled at the image, remembering the panic she had felt back then. As they reminisced under the stars, walking hand-in-hand and smiling from ear to ear, she marveled at how far they had come.


    ¡°On the days when the burden gets to be too much, I often go back to that night,¡± Richard had softly admitted to her. ¡°The innocence of it all. Finding that even the perfect Jovine Rainer was endearingly imperfect. It made me feel glad to find a partner in you. To know that I wasn¡¯t alone in this.¡±


    Jovine had stopped in her tracks, grasping his hand tightly. ¡°You are never alone. Not if I have a say in it,¡± she assured him.


    Richard gazed into her eyes, a look of peace settling over him. Pulling her close, he placed a soft kiss onto her lips, smiling when she leaned in for more.


    ¡°Let¡¯s make a promise,¡± he had whispered against her.


    Leaning back, he looked down at her with a warm smile. ¡°Long into the future, on the day before we are to be crowned as the Emperor and Empress of Theolos, meet me here. As a reminder that our burdens can be shared. That we are not alone.¡±


    Jovine grinned at him, her heart melting at his thoughtfulness.


    ¡°On that day, meet me here,¡± he pressed, hugging her closer.


    ¡°I promise,¡± she said, matching her mouth to his with enthusiasm.


    But, he was the one that failed to keep it.


    On the night before their premature coronation, Jovine went to the gardens, keeping to the promise she had made him long ago. In a way, this felt like her last line of hope.


    Throughout the previous weeks, amidst the haste of planning the coronation soon after the Royal Funeral, Jovine had only exchanged tense dialogues with her callous husband. Through curt discussions regarding Imperial affairs and brief encounters during weekly Audiences, he had dismissed her abruptly every time, as if he struggled spending more time with her than he had to.


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    When she brought up the question of Mallory, he would tense up, ordering her to retire. When she asked about the trembling he hadn¡¯t felt, he passed over it as the effect of strong liquor. He was shutting her out, and Jovine didn¡¯t know how to bring him back to her.


    So, despite the divide he had placed between them, she brought it up to him that morning when he finally emerged from his office to find her waiting outside.


    Before he could pass her, she blurted, ¡°I¡¯ll be in the gardens tonight. Just as we promised.¡±


    Richard stopped, flicking her a glance as he looked down his nose at her with a small frown. After giving a short nod, he walked away.


    Taking it as the first sign of hope in a long time, Jovine held onto it, looking forward to the night and the promise they had made to one another.


    But, countless hours had passed as she waited for her husband to show. But he never did.


    Jovine gripped the stem of the apetalous rose, relishing the pain of the thorns embedding within the skin of her palms. As she looked at the fallen petals being whisked away by the frigid gust, the harsh sting of tears came.


    Biting her trembling lips, she stared ahead at her blurred surroundings. She was the one who would be alone in this. She would never leave him, but he could easily leave her. She knew this now.


    Placing her bloodied hand over her mouth, she muffled her growing sobs. She was alone. Alone.


    The sound of rustling in the bushes ahead snapped her head up. Looking up in anticipation, she searched for the source. Perhaps Richard was here.


    But, after long moments of silence, her hope deflated as quickly as it came.


    With one last look at the barren rose, she let it fly away into the wind and left with a heavy heart.


    -------


    On the first day of Winter, Richard and Jovine de Tristaine were crowned as the new monarchs of the Theolos Empire. As ashen as the somber sky, the people of the Empire couldn¡¯t be as happy for their new sovereigns, still in mourning for the late Emperor and Empress who had just been freshly buried.


    But, Richard boasted a look of pride as he looked down at the crowd of his people gathered in the Holy Church. As the High Priest placed the heavy crown of leaden gold and gems on his brow, power fizzed in his veins.


    Jovine stared straight ahead, her swollen eyes focused into the distance as she felt the weight of the cold metal pressing into her skull. Everything felt too suffocating. The dense velvet cloak. The constricting force of her corset. The weight of her husband¡¯s hand bound against her own in a red cloth of silk.


    She felt chained to her fate.


    A sudden flash of white caught her sight in the crowd, and when she looked its way, her eyes clashed with fiery amber ones.


    The stranger. From that fateful night. The one with the silver hair and the heavy cloak.


    He looked at her with an unexplainable intensity, and it caused an unwelcome feeling of danger. With his large frame and the elegance of his appearance overshadowed by the rugged lines of his face, the man dripped of power and wealth. Jovine ran through every name she had learned in her studies through the back of her mind, but she couldn¡¯t place one for him.


    Then, her eye caught on the golden emblem stitched into the breast of his dark suit. A Columbine Flower entwined in thorny vines.


    She had seen that crest before in the history books. Who did it belong to?


    Jovine pondered, curious to figure out ¡ª


    The name flashed through her mind. The Vel Feyras Family.


    Yes. This was the Grand Duke of Theolos. From Mallory.


    Jovine¡¯s eyes widened at the realization, and she could swear a spark of delight flared in the Grand Duke¡¯s eyes.


    Before she could react, however, a rough squeeze from Richard¡¯s hand brought her attention to the High Priest, who looked at her in inquiry.


    ¡°Your Majesty?¡± he implored.


    At the look of her confusion, he nodded in understanding and repeated his words. ¡°Do you pledge to serve the Empire as its fair and loyal sovereign?¡±


    Swallowing down her anxiety, she distantly heard herself say, ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Then by the grace of the Lord and the blessings of the Holy Reign, I declare Richard and Jovine de Tristaine as the Emperor and Empress of the Theolos Empire.¡±


    Empress of the Theolos Empire.


    If power was any indication of misery, Jovine de Tristaine was now walking down the road to tragedy.


    God help me survive this, she prayed. Help me.


    Help.

 Calamity (Part I)

    Long may you reign.


    A constant reverberation that rang through her dazed mind, Jovine held back a flinch every time the same four words were uttered to her.


    In the face of all the loss, grief, and heartbreak, her ascension to the throne was an abandoned thought she had neglected. So, sitting there in the Great Hall of the Palace, with a blur of faces declaring the longevity of her reign ¡ª it felt like drowning in a flood of panic.


    She was far from ready to rule, especially now that she no longer had a partner to rely on.


    Looking beside her, she found her husband, the new Emperor of Theolos, looking down upon his people bowing in deference. And, the look of power in his hungry eyes inspired an unbidden sense of foreboding.


    Richard de Tristaine was hardly a compassionate man before. She couldn¡¯t bear to think what the depths of his hollow nature would allow now.


    Looking away, she closed her eyes, willing herself to push through the rest of the night without betraying the crippling anxiety that was slowly consuming her.


    At the sound of a greasy voice, Jovine clutched onto the jagged edges of the carved seat of her mounted throne, already dreading the interaction to come.


    ¡°My most sincere congratulations to Your Royal Majesties. May God bless the Emperor and Empress. Long may you reign,¡± Lord Harrison purred, lowering into an ostentatious bow.


    A thin, scrawny man with a tall frame and graying whiskers, Lord Harrison of the House Ballio was known for his two-faced nature. From their brief encounters in the past, Jovine knew she would be fine never crossing paths with him ever again.


    ¡°Thank you, Lord Harrison,¡± Richard responded smoothly, a hint of dismissal sounding in his tone.


    But, as always, the haughty Lord continued on. ¡°How unfortunate it is for such a joyous occasion to be shrouded in so much grief. Please accept my condolences, Your Majesty. To think the late Emperor fell victim to something so small as a weak heart condition no one even knew about¡­¡±


    Jovine could hear several chattering conversations come to a halt. Lord Harrison had just implied something many gossiping citizens had whispered on the streets. Something even she had found herself suspecting.


    ¡°I would watch your words, Lord Harrison,¡± Richard warned in a low voice.


    ¡°My apologies,¡± he responded with a lowered head. ¡°I meant nothing but the astonishment I felt when I heard the news.¡±


    But, even from afar, she could see the small smirk inching its way up his face. With one more dutiful bow, he left, a new trail of whispers following in his wake.


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    Whispers of the late Emperor¡¯s unexpected death from an illness that seemed too convenient not to be devised. Whispers circling, but never touching, the unspeakable accusation against the new Emperor, who now sat on his father¡¯s throne. And, whispers of the hidden truth many believed would never be brought to light. A flurry of them invaded the grand occasion.


    From her periphery, she saw her husband clench his fists, trembling in anger at such blatant hearsay being paraded around him on the day of his own coronation.


    Out of habit, Jovine reached out to touch his hand, hoping to transfer some semblance of support through the contact. It had always worked before.


    Amazingly, she felt the strain in his hand release, and she looked over with hopeful eyes to see his face relax into one of cold blankness. He hadn¡¯t pulled away from her, and that small fact planted a seed of optimism within her.


    She grasped on tighter, never wanting to let go, but at the sight of his narrowing eyes, she turned to find the silver-haired stranger approaching the dias. The Grand Duke.


    Grand Duke vel Feyras bowed. ¡°Many blessings to my new sovereigns.¡±


    Jovine stared at the man in front of her, one she had been searching for in the crowds ever since the realization of who he was hit her. The Grand Duke would have answers for her. Answers about the truth of Mallory. Answers about the death of the Emperor she had not dared question. And, answers her husband would never give her.


    Grand Duke vel Feyras rose to meet her eyes, and as she deliberated how to obtain a chance to speak with him, he spoke first. ¡°May I have the honor of a dance, Your Majesty?¡±


    Taken aback by the unanticipated request, Jovine opened her mouth to respond, but the words failed to form.


    With a slow smile, he looked towards her husband. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t mind would you, Your Majesty?¡±


    Richard leaned back in his seat, studying the Grand Duke. With a wave of his hand, he said, ¡°By all means, she¡¯s all yours.¡±


    Jovine couldn¡¯t help but feel a sting from the way he said it. As if she was an object to hand off so easily.


    At the Grand Duke¡¯s outstretched hand, she rose to take it, but before she could step down, Richard grasped onto her, stopping her momentarily. Rising along with her, he leaned in and muttered, ¡°Behave.¡±


    Then, without another look, he walked away to refresh his empty glass.


    Jovine looked at his retreating form, the previously sprouting seed of optimism already withering away.


    A warm, calloused hand closed around her own clenched ones, and she looked down to see the Grand Duke regarding her expectantly. At the sound of the melodic orchestra beginning a new tune, Jovine allowed him to lead her down to the dance floor, where several other couples were swaying to the music.


    Richard should have been the one she was dancing with. That¡¯s how she had always imagined it. Dancing with her husband on the joyous day of their coronation. But here she was, dancing with an unfamiliar man.


    For a few long seconds, they wordlessly danced, mechanically moving to the rhythmic chords.


    ¡°You look beautiful tonight, Your Majesty,¡± the Grand Duke offered.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± she replied distantly, her eyes focused on the back of her husband, who was conversing with Lord Maximus.


    At the sound of a chuckle, she looked up to find the Grand Duke¡¯s amused expression. ¡°You seem to be quite enamored by His Majesty.¡±


    ¡°Well, he is my husband,¡± she replied practically.


    ¡°Yes, he is,¡± he mused with an unreadable face.


    Jovine frowned as he twirled her around. She couldn¡¯t even begin to figure the man out.


    Shaking her head, she redirected her focus to ask what she had wanted to from the start. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I have a few questions for you.¡±


    The Grand Duke nodded. ¡°I¡¯m sure you do.¡±


    ¡°Mallory,¡± she began. ¡°I need to know what happened there.¡±


    Jovine felt the slight pressure of his tightening grip on her waist. ¡°What would you like to know?¡±


    ¡°Everything.¡±

 Calamity (Part II)

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s cold. Frozen. But, also quite lovely. I may be biased, but it¡¯s a shame many don¡¯t know about the hidden beauty of Mallory.¡±


    Jovine blinked. ¡°Pardon?¡±


    The Grand Duke tilted his head, looking innocently bemused. ¡°You wanted to know everything about Mallory.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant,¡± she said with narrowed eyes.


    A deep chuckle rumbled out of him, and she could feel the vibration of it touch her chest as he stepped into her, gently lifting her off the floor in coordination with the playing waltz.


    ¡°I am a little disappointed, Your Majesty. I was hoping your questions would be about your curiosity for me,¡± he said as he twirled her back into his waiting embrace.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure any relevant information about yourself will be tied to your explanation of what happened in Mallory,¡± she shot back.


    The Grand Duke contemplated her words, nodding as if her statement made sense. ¡°Yes, I suppose that¡¯s true.¡±


    Jovine stifled a sigh of frustration, feeling as if she would never get a straight answer.


    A small squeeze of her hand from him failed in its attempt to bring her attention back to the observant Grand Duke.


    Jovine was already inside her head, and the discouragement from her hopeless venture caused her to miss a few steps. When she stumbled into him, he was quick to steady her.


    ¡°Nothing happened in Mallory.¡±


    She looked up at the soft words muttered by the Grand Duke, who slowly swayed with her to the ending symphony.


    ¡°The late Emperor and his son visited my estate. There were official discussions on resolving confidential issues within Mallory¡¯s borders. But, they left to return to the Palace a few weeks later. Whatever significant thing that happened to the Emperor and the Prince ¡ª it didn¡¯t happen in Mallory,¡± he supplied.


    Jovine stopped in the middle of the dance floor, unable to comprehend what she had just heard. ¡°You showed up on the night His Majesty returned to the Palace. How do you explain that?¡± she forced out, staring at the woven Columbine Flower on his chest rather than meeting his eyes.


    ¡°His Majesty summoned me. I just happened to arrive when he did.¡±


    ¡°Why did he summon you?¡±


    ¡°To talk about my return to Court,¡± he replied with a frown in his voice. ¡°Your Majesty? Are you feeling unwell?¡±


    Jovine shook her head. This can¡¯t be right, she thought. All this time, Mallory had been the bearer of the answers she had been searching for. But, now¡­


    Now, nothing made sense.


    ¡°I sent letters to Mallory. What of them?¡±


    ¡°I never got them,¡± he muttered, gripping her hand.


    Jovine¡¯s mind raced with endless questions, and as much as she hated to admit it, doubt started to creep into her mind. Could Richard really be capable of ¡ª


    The sound of her husband¡¯s shout of pain whipped her head to the side, scattering her thoughts, and she was met with the horrifying sight of blood dripping from his hand.


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    ¡°Your Majesty!¡± she exclaimed, ripping herself out of the Grand Duke¡¯s hold and frantically rushing over to where he stood by the grandiose fountain of sparkling wine.


    Richard freed a string of vibrant curse words as he stuck his bloodied finger into his mouth, attempting to staunch the flowing blood. The chipped flute of his wine glass shimmered in red as a maid briskly carried it away, looking anxious and fearful of his wrath.


    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± Jovine breathed, reaching out to him through the gathering crowd of concerned subjects.


    Taking his hand, she inspected the wound, hating the sight of his broken skin seeping trickles of fresh blood. Jovine searched for the handkerchief Lady Margaret had neatly folded into the breast of her gown, and she brought it to the delicate injury, wrapping the clean cloth around it with a deep, worried frown.


    ¡°No need to overreact. I¡¯ll survive,¡± Richard huffed.


    Jovine tied the fabric into a deft knot. ¡°I don¡¯t like seeing you bleed,¡± she murmured.


    Richard breathed out a sound of amusement. ¡°You always did fret over the smallest injuries,¡± he remembered with a small twitch of his lips.


    Jovine looked up, reveling in the smallest smile she had seen from him, but one he had given to her nonetheless. Oh, how she had missed it.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t hurt yourself. It pains me to see you suffer,¡± she admitted, keeping his hand gently placed in hers.


    The Emperor gazed back in thought at his Empress, oblivious to the watching eyes surrounding them.


    The sound of a loud clearing throat and the clink of glass interrupted the moment and brought their attention to the orchestra floor, where Lord Harrison stood with a raised glass.


    ¡°In commemoration of this grand night, I have prepared a musical gift for thy Royal Majesties,¡± he announced with a boastful, slurred voice.


    Unconsciously, Jovine exchanged a knowing look with her husband, one that they had frequently traded in the past in response to the clueless, vexing Lord who always failed to read the room. Richard returned her look, and they both looked away to hide their growing smiles.


    Jovine¡¯s heart soared. There you are, she thought.


    The shameful doubt that had inched its way into her mind evaporated. No matter how much he had changed, he was still a good man. She believed it.


    As the ensemble played to the request of Lord Harrison, Richard extended his arm to her. ¡°Well, I suppose I should dance with my Empress.¡±


    She gave him a sweet smile, letting him lead her to the floor where she passed the forgotten Grand Duke, who looked at the scene with a stoic face.


    As Jovine danced in the familiar hold of her husband, she felt happy for the first time in a long while.


    But even that peace was short-lived.


    As the Emperor and Empress gracefully swayed to the gentle tune, an alluring women in red settled behind a large golden harp waiting for her on the stage.


    At the first pluck of its strings, a hauntingly beautiful voice glided through the air, capturing the attention of several spectators. The enchanting song slithered into Jovine¡¯s ears, compelling her to look towards the sound of such beauty.


    With blood-red hair and tempting, sumptuous lips, the singer reminded Jovine of sin. She pulled the attention of countless men, who were now enamored by her bewitching dark gaze that roamed the room expertly and her petite, yet voluptuous body that oozed in sheer confidence. And, her voice. It was so enticing, even Jovine found herself leaning towards the melody.


    Jovine stopped against the stiff form of the Emperor, whose eyes were suddenly fixed on the mysterious woman singing a ballad of love.


    She froze.


    The way he was looking at her¡­


    With a slightly parted mouth and a flushed face, he looked captivated. Jovine¡¯s heart galloped in panic.


    No.


    She recognized that gaze. It was one she would find in the darkest of nights when he used to ravish her body in a rage of pure, lustful passion.


    The pierce of betrayal ripped through her chest. Why was her husband looking at another woman this way?


    The sudden dissonant strike of a chord and a whimper of pain put a halt to the lovely song. The broken string of the glittering harp had cut the woman¡¯s finger.


    Without hesitation, Richard rushed to the stage in concern, where the woman was caressing her injured hand.


    Kneeling down beside her, he gently took her hand and, with a deep look into her eyes, stuck the tip of her finger into his mouth to lick away the flowing blood. As their eyes clashed, tension pulsated throughout the room and whispers started to form.


    Empress Jovine de Tristaine, left behind on the emptying dance floor, watched as her husband looked upon another woman with desire.


    Right in front of her.


    Death would have hurt less than the fracturing shards of her broken heart.


    Now, she had truly lost him.


    Now, he was too far gone from her.

 Endure

    Shock. Pain. Misery. Agony.


    Jovine was assaulted by a torrent of piercing emotions as she stood watching her husband betray her.


    The look of concern and hunger on his face as he looked upon the mysterious woman with the haunting voice and the bleeding finger repulsed her. She could feel the fury churning in the pit of her stomach and the excruciating ache of her shattered heart as she looked at him caressing the woman¡¯s hand.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± His gruff voice sounded throughout the room.


    The woman looked up from beneath her lashes, a harsh blush that matched the color of her hair spreading across her cheeks. ¡°Yes,¡± she answered in a breathy voice.


    He reached out a hand to sweep across her flushed face.


    ¡°Maximus,¡± Richard barked, never taking his eyes off the woman before him.


    The Royal Secretary rushed over, looking agitated. ¡°Your Majesty, there are several eyes watching, and the Empress ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Silence! Summon the Royal Physician,¡± he snapped.


    Lord Maximus hesitated, looking as if he wanted to say something more, but from one fuming glare from the Emperor, he hurried away to fetch the Physician.


    The woman looked at the Emperor with wide eyes, awed by his presence.


    ¡°Tell me your name,¡± he demanded.


    ¡°Emilia,¡± she answered eagerly. ¡°Emilia Syrene.¡±


    Richard smiled. ¡°Emilia Syrene,¡± he repeated, savoring the taste of her name on his lips.


    Jovine wanted to die.


    Seeing her own husband offer someone else a smile he used to save for her broke her. She couldn¡¯t move. Couldn¡¯t breathe. Couldn¡¯t fathom what was happening before her eyes.


    Whispers of scandal surrounded her but the embarrassment of it all was nothing compared to the pure torture of the scene playing out before her.


    Richard extended a hand out, and the memory of the way she used to be one he always reached out to flashed before her eyes. But it wasn¡¯t her he was holding onto this time. It was her. Another woman.


    As Emilia stood, she leaned into Richard, who looked down at her with intense, burning eyes, and it felt as if the world around them was intruding in this moment between the two. As if Jovine herself was the outsider who didn¡¯t belong.


    No. Get away from him.


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    A burst of rage tore through her with a vengeance. She wanted to claw the woman away from her husband. Wanted to watch her bleed.


    Out of pure instinct, Jovine moved to tear the treacherous woman away, but a firm hand stopped her.


    She flicked her head to the side to find an older reflection of herself staring back at her with resolve. Marchioness Elizabeth Rainer, Jovine¡¯s mother who had remained in the distance through the whole ordeal, held her daughter back.


    Jovine trembled with the fury she was unable to unleash as her mother gave a minute shake of her head, and she could hear the unsaid words.


    You are an Empress now. You will remain composed. You will not break here.


    This was the prison she had never expected. She was both the most powerful and the most helpless woman in the world. She could do everything and nothing, and the weight of her crown was a chain she knew she couldn¡¯t escape now.


    As if her mother could hear her resentful thoughts, she tugged at her with disguised force, walking her through a crowd of leering nobles and willing her to leave behind the Emperor and his new object of desire, who was now being treated by the Royal Physician.


    With her surroundings blurring and her mind running with terrible, horrid thoughts, Jovine was blindly led to the newly decorated Western Palace for the Empress. Entering the cold drawing room, she heard her mother dismiss her ladies, who had been eagerly waiting for her return.


    As soon as they were left alone in the dimly lit space, her mother spoke.


    ¡°Endure.¡±


    One word. But, it shattered her.


    Jovine fell to the floor, uncaring of the way her knees cracked painfully on the marble. Clutching her stomach, she bent over from the pain as an agonizing sob ripped through her.


    In the blink of an eye, she had gone from hope to despair. She went from dancing in his arms to watching another woman falling into his. For months, she had held onto him, not knowing when he¡¯d come back to her, but knowing, for sure, one day he would.


    Now, she couldn¡¯t help but feel it was too late.


    Even as her tears ran out, Jovine couldn¡¯t stop the whimpers. She loved him too much. And, it hurt to love him.


    Their story had started with so much promise. He had cared for her and adored her. Even when he returned as a stranger, she believed she still held a part of him.


    But, now there was only darkness ahead. And, she wanted nothing to do with it.


    Jovine¡¯s cries suddenly stopped. She placed her forehead to the cool marble of the ground, which was flooded with droplets of her shed tears.


    Then, like a possessed maniac, she struck her head on the floor. Over and over again.


    She wanted to numb the pain and feel the burn of her skull smashing against the floor instead.


    Crack. Crack. Crack.


    ¡°Jovine!¡± Her mother knelt down beside her in panic, attempting to stop her foolish actions.


    Jovine looked up at her mother with hollow eyes. ¡°Leave me be, Mother. Let me hurt.¡±


    Her mother clenched her jaw. ¡°Your love for him will destroy you. Forget it all, and move forward.¡±


    She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head. ¡°You don¡¯t understand. You never do,¡± she whispered into the floor.


    Jovine was always the invisible child who only held worth if she was able to ascend the throne. Now, she was the Empress, and it still wasn¡¯t enough to feel the warmth of her mother¡¯s love.


    ¡°He is the Emperor, Jovine. He is entitled to have any woman in this Empire, and your duty is to be a faithful servant. Expecting any more from a man like him¡ª¡±


    ¡°Get out."


    Jovine was done. She refused to hear anymore from her callous mother.


    Elizabeth Rainer stared at her daughter in shock, her mouth parting open in dismay. Then, with a cold look composing her features, she abruptly stood to leave. ¡°For your own sake, Jovine, do not let this ruin you. Be reasonable, and endure," she spat out with a look of distaste. Walking to the door, she slammed it close on her way out.


    The word rang through Jovine''s mind for long moments.


    Endure. Endure. Endure.


    The look in her husband¡¯s eyes as he looked at Emilia Syrene flashed through her mind again. She felt a maddening whirl of witless thoughts overcoming her from the memory.


    Perhaps this is all a temporary mishap. Maybe this is only an impulsive venture of infatuation that will run out in the end.


    Maybe I can bring him back to me.


    She needed hope to cling onto, and as pathetic as it was, this was all she could muster.


    I will bring him back to me, she weakly thought. To whatever end, I will claim his heart again.


    ----


    Jovine de Tristaine, unaware of how much time she had left, filled her head with senseless excuses for her unfaithful husband.


    Two years.


    That¡¯s all she had left until she would die.


    Two years.


    Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

 Concubine

    Pride didn¡¯t exist for Jovine when it came to love.


    No matter how pitiful or miserable she seemed, she could only think of one thing.


    Getting Richard back.


    After the night of the coronation, Jovine was determined to endure. Despite hearing the news of the lovely Emilia Syrene residing in the Palace at the command of the Emperor or hearing about his enchantment with the beauty from the far, humble Eastern borders of the Empire, Jovine endured.


    Even when she heard about the way her husband spent his days and nights with the woman, constantly asking for her presence and to hear her sing for him again, she was patient.


    Like a fool, Jovine was in denial. Convincing herself the Emperor¡¯s captivation with the wretched woman would be short-lived, Jovine told herself it wasn¡¯t too late to win him over again.


    So, Jovine devoted herself to her work. She was an exemplary Empress who drove herself to the brink of exhaustion to serve as a loyal servant to the Empire and her husband. On the rare days when she was able to see Richard to discuss Imperial affairs, she smiled and obeyed, pathetically desperate to gain his approval.


    She never brought up the question of the other woman or displayed her distress over his unfaithfulness to her. Instead, she smiled and loved him, hiding the extent of her suffering behind words of affection.


    But, Richard remained as neglectful as ever.


    He never showed a speck of interest in his own wife. Instead, he rushed through his obligatory meetings with her and brushed off her attempts to bridge their splintered relationship.


    When she sweetly greeted him with a smile, he looked down at her with an expressionless, impassive face. When she asked for just a fraction of his time, he disregarded her and left her behind.


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    In this injustice, she should have raged. But, she couldn¡¯t.


    Because, no matter how much it hurt to love him, she couldn¡¯t stop.


    Instead, she became the fool Empress who was thrown aside.


    And, in the midst of all this humiliation, Jovine found herself ending most days huddled on the floor of her closet ¡ª the only space she allowed herself to grieve.


    She cried herself to sleep, locked in the darkness where she was finally away from the eyes of the world that was bound to look down on the pathetic, pitiful Empress Jovine who was unwanted. And, when morning came, she crawled back out and started the day over again, practicing her smiles for her husband over and over again in front of a mirror until her cheeks ached.


    Jovine became a fractured version of herself. She was on the precipice of truly losing her mind, and day by day, she grew to hate who she became and couldn¡¯t stop the idiotic thoughts that blamed her own self for her husband¡¯s betrayal.


    And, the worst of it all was the way Emilia Syrene basked in her misery.


    As a woman born of humble origin in the darker slums of the Empire, Emilia was stunned by the ridiculous amounts of luxury she was gifted by the Emperor. Given her own room near the Emperor¡¯s chambers and granted her own maids to escort her, she lived in a comfort she had never known before. And, one taste of the life of luxury and power had her wanting more.


    Emilia Syrene, the new woman of the Emperor, became the limelight of High Society. With her brilliant voice and the Emperor¡¯s devotion held firmly in her grasp, the nobility of Theolos glorified the common woman. They fawned over her exotic beauty and flattered her swelling ego. And with the support of the Eastern Faction, who remained opposed against Empress Jovine, Emilia Syrene became a formidable threat.


    And, Emilia knew this. She knew how much power she held in this moment.


    So, she reveled in the Empress¡¯s demise and began to look down upon the discarded Jovine.


    On days when their paths would cross, Emilia would pass her in insolence, refusing to acknowledge the presence of her Empress and running to the Emperor instead. As Jovine was sent away by her husband, she would hear the resounding echoes of their laughter bouncing off the walls and puncturing her fragile heart.


    It felt as if they were laughing at her. At how despicable she was becoming.


    And, despite the deceptive malice Jovine could clearly see in the dark heart of Emilia, the world saw her as the new light of the Empire who would soon replace the Empress¡¯s stead.


    The fateful day came sooner than anyone expected.


    Because, on a bright Spring day that clashed against the darkness Jovine existed in, Emperor Richard de Tristaine proclaimed Emilia Syrene as his Royal Concubine.

 Never Real

    <div>


    ¡°Let me through.¡±


    Lord Maximus fidgeted under the harsh stare of Empress Jovine.


    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± he pleaded. ¡°He refuses to see you ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Maximus,¡± Jovine bit out, clenching her fists against the fabric of her gown. ¡°Don¡¯t do this to me. Not you as well.¡±


    The older man looked down at the young Empress, who looked as distressed as she sounded. With bloodshot eyes and the worsening state of her frail body, Empress Jovine was a vision of heartbreak. And, how could she not be?


    She was cast aside by his master, and no matter how gracious she had been in the face of all the horrid rumors and the heartless way the Emperor paraded his new mistress around, her despair couldn¡¯t be so easily disguised.


    The memory of her as a young girl suddenly flashed through his mind. He remembered seeing her for the first time when he was brought to the Palace by his father, who had served the late Emperor. She was a bright child with a bright mind. Her docile, dutiful nature didn¡¯t escape the eyes of the Court, who either praised her for her refinement or saw the child as a weakness to exploit.


    But, back then, he believed the Prince would protect her.


    No matter how the young Prince Richard might have tried to hide it, even Lord Maximus could tell he held a fondness for his betrothed.


    From the way he allowed himself to smile in front of the timid girl or the small snippets of conversation the older man overheard, it was clear the Prince cared for the girl.


    And, when they had finally become man and wife, nothing warmed his heart more than watching the way they cherished one another. Lord Maximus would have even said they were in love.


    So, nothing shocked him more than when the Emperor cast his wife aside for another woman.


    Unable to deny the pitiful Empress, Lord Maximus stepped aside with his head bowed down.


    ---


    Jovine stopped at the threshold of her husband¡¯s chambers, a place she had not been invited to for a long while. It looked the same, with its rich blue tones painted throughout the room and a large four-poster bed reminding her of the moments she had spent in his arms.


    Richard was settled comfortably behind a large, oak desk littered with papers and feathered quills. At the sound of the door closing, he looked up.


    His eyes narrowed in displeasure. ¡°I was not to be disturbed.¡±


    ¡°How could you?¡± she whispered brokenly, trying to suppress the tears she had been holding at bay.


    Richard tilted his head in contemplation, studying his haggard wife quivering in shock. ¡°How could I what, Jovine?¡±


    ¡°For months, I have tolerated that woman here. For weeks, I have waited for you to spare me a single glance. And, now, I wake to hear that you have taken her as your mistress?¡± Jovine¡¯s voice rose with each sentence, the rage of her husband¡¯s betrayal finally breaking the dam of emotions she had been keeping locked away.


    Richard grew very still, dropping the quill he had been holding onto the desk. The sound of its clatter echoed throughout the room.


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    ¡°What is your issue?¡± he asked coolly.


    Jovine dug her fingers into her palms. ¡°My issue?¡± She looked at him with pained eyes. ¡°My husband has taken another woman. He has shut me out and left me behind. That is my issue,¡± she bit out in an unsteady voice.


    Richard simply stared back with eyes lacking of any emotion or sympathy. ¡°You have an issue with your Emperor claiming a mistress for himself,¡± he stated back to her. ¡°Jovine, what did you expect? Did you think I¡¯d be wholeheartedly devoted to you?¡±


    Jovine gaped at her husband¡¯s words.


    He continued. ¡°My marriage to you was never a choice. It was another obligation in a long list of duties I was bound to. I never chose you.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± she breathed, shaking her head. ¡°We were happy. We were ¡ª¡±


    ¡°You can thank my dear mother for that,¡± he interjected casually.


    What?


    ¡°Do you know how much pestering I had to endure from her?¡± Richard gave a humorless laugh. ¡°The amount of times I¡¯ve had to try and win you over with sweet words and nauseating affection. It was exhausting. But, ¡®A happy bride is imperative, Richard. Jovine is now your responsibility. You need her. Make her need you.¡¯ Leave it to my mother to nag about the state of our relationship,¡± he rambled bitterly.


    ¡°No,¡± she denied. ¡°I don¡¯t believe you. You used to¡­want me. You promised me your commitment. You desired me in your bed.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t deny that you¡¯re a beautiful woman, Jovine. It definitely eased the issue of our consummation. But, can you blame me for getting tired of you? Heavens, if I had known you would be this pathetically needy, I wouldn¡¯t have encouraged any of it,¡± he said with a scalding tone.


    ¡°Richard¡­¡±


    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± he corrected with a harsh voice. ¡°Have some respect for me, Empress,¡± he sneered.


    Jovine flinched, stepping away until her back touched the wooden door.


    Richard scoffed at the sight as he leaned back in his seat. ¡°Look at you. Meek, little Jovine unable to take the brunt of the truth.¡±


    She could no longer stop the torrent of tears flooding her vision.


    None of it was real.


    The memories she held so dearly to her heart and the only source of comfort that had allowed her to endure the torture of the past few months were all fabricated.


    Cold. Calculating. Manipulative.


    Richard was exactly who everyone saw him as.


    Jovine used to believe he was better than he let everyone think. She believed she saw the best parts of him peak through the small moments of peace and tenderness they had shared.


    But, to think it was never real¡­


    ¡°If you¡¯re going to cry like a child, leave. I have no tolerance for your griping anymore,¡± Richard spat at her.


    Unable to take anymore of his barbs, Jovine turned away from him, her shaking hand touching the cold, metal knob of the door.


    She couldn''t breathe. She needed to get out.


    ¡°Asking me for any more is your greed, Jovine.¡±


    Richard¡¯s voice stopped her, but she couldn¡¯t bear to look back at him.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t choose you, but I choose Emilia. As my subject, my happiness is your happiness. I will no longer be lenient with you if I hear any more on this,¡± he dismissed.


    Closing her eyes, Jovine wanted the earth to swallow her whole. Anger. Pain. Betrayal. Denial. The force of all her emotions threatened to crush her, and she would welcome the darkness to the torment of her existence.


    Without another word, Jovine left in a state of shock.


    ¡°Oh, Jovine!¡± A cheerful, condescending voice made her wince as she came face-to-face with the beaming Emilia Syrene, the new Royal Concubine of the Theolos Empire.


    Disregarding the obvious suffering the Empress was bearing, Emilia chattered on. ¡°Did you hear the wonderful news? We¡¯re family now that we share a husband,¡± she squeaked, patting Jovine on the cheek.


    Jovine stood her ground. If she moved, she feared she would gouge out the eyes of the woman before her.


    ¡°Lady Emilia,¡± Lord Maximus admonished. ¡°Treating the Empress with such disrespect will not be allowed.¡±


    ¡°Oh, hush it, you,¡± Emilia clucked. ¡°And, you will address me as ¡®Your Highness¡¯ from now on. Am I understood?¡±


    Lord Maximus clenched his jaw as Emilia skipped past to greet the Emperor.


    ¡°Richard!¡± Jovine heard her sing in happiness.


    She looked back to see the sight of her husband¡¯s bright smile greeting the entrance of his mistress. Before the door slammed shut, she saw Emilia running to place herself on his lap as he welcomed her with beckoning arms.


    None of it was real. The thought wouldn¡¯t stop running through her head.


    Richard wasn¡¯t real. Their marriage wasn¡¯t real. Her happiness wasn¡¯t real.


    Like a mirage, she saw the image of her loving husband standing before her. One who used to smile and adore his wife.


    You were never real, she told him.


    Walking past the ghost of her husband, she walked into the darkness, allowing it to consume her.

 Awake (Part I)

    Two Years Later


    Night of the Winter Solstice.


    The edge of the dagger slowly pierced the flesh of the Empress.


    Jovine inhaled a gasping breath, the pain of the blade embedding itself through her ribs unbearable.


    Emilia Syrene looked up at her with manic eyes, a sick, perverse satisfaction flaring in the depths of her pupils at the Empress¡¯s approaching death.


    ¡°I win,¡± she laughed psychotically.


    ¡°No,¡± Jovine wheezed out, her knees buckling as her husband¡¯s mistress shoved the knife deeper until she couldn¡¯t breathe anymore.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Emilia whispered, bending over with the fallen Empress who was now bathed in blood.


    Jovine toppled to the cold ground as Emilia freed the hilt of the blade from her grasp and stood with a malicious grin.


    ¡°As always, you¡¯re too late,¡± she taunted. ¡°I will have everything, and you. You will be nothing. And, I am going to relish watching the life bleed out of you.¡±


    Unable to speak or move, Jovine¡¯s breaths stuttered as she choked on her own blood. Emilia was right. It was too late for her now.


    She could feel herself slipping into the unknown darkness that was death. The heat of her blood even began to feel like a warm cocoon enticing her to give into the pain.


    I¡¯m not ready, she raged against the pull. There¡¯s too much I still need to do.


    But, none of her pleas mattered as she felt the tip of the dagger a breath away from puncturing her heart.


    The familiar, low timbre of a voice she knew too well called out in the distance, anchoring her to the light.


    Richard?


    Emilia cursed under her breath, frantically wiping the blood on the fabric of Jovine¡¯s nightgown, and the movement of her body caused Jovine to sob out a cry of pain.


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    ¡°Shut up!¡± Emilia whispered in a panicked voice. Composing herself, Emilia took a breath before leaving Jovine in a pool of her own blood, discreetly shutting the door from any witnessing eyes.


    No, her mind cried out. The injustice of it all sparked an inferno of fury within her. She couldn¡¯t die like this.


    The distant murmur of voices sounded through the barricade of the door enclosing her in ¡ª


    Where am I?


    Disoriented, her memories were fading away, as if she was now looking through a fogged glass into her life.


    She directed her hazy vision around the room.


    An open window. The moon. Snow. Marble floors now ridden with red. A ceramic bath.


    Jovine was in a bathing chamber. Was it her own?


    Why couldn¡¯t she recall?


    Jovine squeezed her eyes shut, her body suddenly feeling cold and the pain in her chest settling down to a numbness.


    She didn¡¯t have much time. There was something she needed to do. Something she needed to say. Someone to say it to.


    A broken sob ripped through her mind. She was too far gone to know whether the tears manifested, but the misery and grief were there.


    I need to get to you.


    As if the subconscious thought was the last remaining force sustaining her body, Jovine found herself dragging her body across the floor. Her elbows slipped against the gore of her fatal wound, but it didn¡¯t stop her.


    Clawing in desperation, she reached the wooden door, but before she could attempt to open it, her head fell against the frigid ground.


    Death was coming for her now. She felt its insistent grasp determined to rip her away from this world.


    Perhaps hallucinations came with the invitation of death for she could have sworn she felt the caress of the breeze whispering words of sorrow in her ear.


    With a small creak, the door opened before her eyes.


    As if the dagger in her heart wasn¡¯t enough, the last image she saw before Death finally claimed her was Emilia Syrene straddling the body of her husband, their lips locked in a passionate tangle of betrayal.


    With one final breath ripped out of her body, Jovine de Tristaine was dead.


    <hr>


    Darkness.


    Emptiness.


    A void.


    Voices. Memories. Sudden light.


    ¡°I hate you,¡± a voice breathes.


    ¡°Hate me all you want. Just don¡¯t leave me.¡±


    ¡°I remembered something. It seems there¡¯s a lot I¡¯ve forgotten about our story.¡±


    ¡°Smile for me. You used to smile for me everyday.¡±


    A yellow rose. The smell of the ocean. ¡°It¡¯ll return to me at the right time.¡±


    The scent of snow and sandalwood. Silver. The bark of a gleeful dog. ¡°I wanted to take you from him.¡±


    Fire. Ink. Paper. ¡°I think you might be my only real friend.¡±


    A dark room. A closed door. ¡°Can I hold you? In this darkness, we don¡¯t exist. As soon as the door opens, you can pretend this never happened.¡±


    Sweat. Silk sheets. Tangled bodies. ¡°Bend over.¡±


    ¡°I want you.¡±


    A flood of tears. A painful ache. ¡°It would have been better if you never came back at all. The dream of you was better than this damned reality.¡±


    ¡°I love you.¡±


    A piercing wail of heartbreak and grief. ¡°No. You¡¯re not dead. Come back to me.¡±


    A trembling. Crescendoing until the darkness fractures.


    <hr>


    Jovine de Tristaine opened her eyes.

 Awake (Part II)

    With a sharp gasp, Jovine jolted forward, clutching her chest as if she could still feel the pierce of the blade within her heart.


    But, it wasn¡¯t there.


    The sound of cheerful chatter, clinking glasses, and lively music perforated her disordered senses, and when her surroundings finally came into focus, she was lost.


    The Royal Banquet Hall. But, what was she doing there?


    With her last memory being her own tragic demise, she couldn¡¯t make sense of the bright lights and the suffocating crowd of nobles blurring her vision. She couldn¡¯t remember anything else.


    How she got here. How she was still alive. Nothing made sense.


    Still clutching her chest, she clawed at her skin, still feeling the way the knife was embedded within her. Shaking uncontrollably, her breaths stuttered until it felt like her lungs would explode.


    She couldn¡¯t breathe.


    Just the way she couldn¡¯t as she dragged herself across the blood-stained floor, desperate to get to the door before life was ripped away from her.


    She bent over, unconsciously ripping at her corset, trying to free herself of the overwhelming suffocation hell bent on taking her away from this world again.


    Help me. Someone help me.


    A warm hand settled over hers, the unforgiving pressure of it momentarily anchoring her.


    ¡°Empress?¡±


    Richard¡¯s hard voice broke through the panic, but it brought her no semblance of calm.


    It enraged her.


    ¡°Jovine, what¡¯s wrong? You¡¯re making a scene,¡± he hissed under his breath, tightening his grip on her fragile fingers until the pain of it caused her to inhale her first full breath of air into her burning lungs.


    Traitor. Bastard. You devil scoundrel.


    Unable to bear the feel of his touch, Jovine wrenched her hand away from her husband¡¯s grasp. ¡°Don¡¯t touch me,¡± she bit out through clenched teeth, her voice sounding unsteady and venomous.


    Without even looking at him, she could sense the shock rippling through the bewildered Emperor.


    But, it didn¡¯t matter to her anymore.


    Where there was once great affection and tender adoration for the man she had loved, there was now only pure disgust and fury.


    Even now, she couldn¡¯t unsee the way he pleasured that wicked woman as Jovine laid in a pool of her own blood, reaching out for anyone to hear her. To save her.


    Trembling from the flood of emotions tearing at her, Jovine blindly stood, needing to get out.


    Distantly, she thought she heard Richard calling her name, but it didn¡¯t stop her.


    Long rows of white-clothed tables filled with delectable dishes and a floor of dancing guests who were now staring at the stumbling Empress entered her unfocused gaze as she maneuvered her way towards any exit that would free her.


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    I need air. I need to breathe. I can¡¯t breathe.


    The panic came rushing back.


    What was happening to her? She had died, hadn¡¯t she?


    Cradling her head between her hands, Jovine staggered into the nearest wall. She couldn¡¯t remember anything. Her memories were distorted. Gone.


    She recalled every painful experience of loving and losing her husband. She remembered everything until the day Emilia Syrene was proclaimed as the Royal Concubine.


    And, she remembered her death.


    But, everything in between was gone.


    What¡¯s happening? Have I gone mad? Where am I? Who am I?


    ¡°Your Majesty?¡± A soft, worried voice she knew well called out to her.


    ¡°Erin,¡± Jovine whispered brokenly, looking into the concerned face of the young maid who had stayed by her side since she was a child. ¡°Take me away from here.¡±


    Nodding fervently, Erin took a hold of the Empress, guiding her through the halls and stairs until Jovine found herself back in her chambers.


    ¡°Your Majesty, are you feeling unwell again?¡± Erin asked in alarm as Jovine fell to the floor, her hands still grasping her muddled head.


    ¡°Where are we, Erin? What¡¯s happening?¡±


    ¡°Should I call for the Royal Physician? You were feeling fine just this afternoon¡­have your migraines returned?¡±


    Clutching onto the girl who was kneeled on the ground with her, Jovine spoke with panicked eyes, ¡°Something has happened. I was dead, but now I¡¯m not. And, my memories. I can¡¯t recall anything important. I can¡¯t ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± the maid exclaimed, her doe-like face distorting in genuine distress for the unstable state of her Empress¡¯ sanity.


    Before she could continue, the rest of her ladies-in-waiting appeared. At the sound of their simultaneous outbursts of concern, Jovine¡¯s mind rang with trepidation. She couldn¡¯t explain it, but she felt exposed and vulnerable, even with her faithful attendants who had always been a source of comfort and friendship.


    ¡°I need to speak with Erin. Everyone else, leave,¡± she ordered shakily.


    Although startled by her abrupt command, they obeyed and departed quietly, leaving the two women in the drawing room.


    ¡°Your Majesty?¡± Erin squeaked.


    ¡°Erin, I need to talk to a friend right now,¡± Jovine started, determined to regain her composure before her mind was truly lost. ¡°Can you do that for me?¡±


    A moment of silence passed before Erin spoke again. ¡°Jovine, what¡¯s wrong?¡±


    Heaving out a breath, Jovine looked up at her closest friend, the one person she was sure she could trust right now. ¡°What I¡¯m about to tell you will not make sense. In fact, I can¡¯t even be sure if I¡¯m sane right now. But, I need you to believe me because I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll make it out of this alone.¡±


    ¡°Whatever it is, I¡¯m with you,¡± Erin assured her, and Jovine couldn¡¯t stop her tears at those words.


    For so long, she had isolated herself, her gaze solely fixed upon her unfaithful husband she was so intent on getting back. She faked smiles and displayed good health, when in reality, she submerged herself in misery and pain as soon as she locked herself away from the rest of the world. But, no longer would she sacrifice her well-being for the good of her husband. She would rage against it all instead.


    Taking a breath, Jovine began.


    She told her everything, starting from the recollection of her wrongful death to the alarming gaps in her faded memories. She let down her guard and finally expressed the torment of her broken heart and the anger that now consumed her.


    And, in return, Erin listened without a hint of doubt flashing across her face and offered explanations for the missing cracks in her past.


    It was Richard¡¯s birthday, and the Banquet was for his celebration. Emilia Syrene was proclaimed as the Concubine just a few months ago, and since then, Jovine had remained the subservient Empress loyal to her husband despite his betrayal.


    No more, Jovine thought to herself. I will take it no more.


    ¡°Do you really believe me?¡± Jovine finally asked. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have.¡±


    Erin gave a sad smile. ¡°I believe you. It does sound bizarre, but there have been talks of strange things happening in the Empire.¡±


    At that, Jovine straightened. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°There are rumors circling through town, talking about¡­magic,¡± Erin hesitantly supplied.


    Magic?


    Magic didn¡¯t exist.


    But, if that was the truth, how was she here right now?


    By some miracle, Jovine had traveled back to the past, and this time, she was determined to stay alive and reap tragedy on those who had wronged her.


    She had once existed in a haze, blinded by love and pathetically ignorant to everything but her husband and her husband only.


    But, now she was awake.


    And, for the first time, she felt truly alive for it.


    ¡°Tell me everything.¡±

 Happiest

    Jovine paced restlessly across the worn carpet of her bedroom floor.


    Biting her nails in anxious contemplation, her mind ran through her conversation with Erin over and over again.


    ¡°Have you ever heard the story of a world touched by magic?¡±


    Jovine frowned. ¡°Like the legends and fables we used to read as children?¡±


    ¡°Not exactly,¡± Erin grimaced. ¡°More like theories and history.¡±


    ¡°History?¡± Jovine repeated in surprise.


    ¡°You won¡¯t remember this, but just a few days ago, Lady Margaret and I raised a concern to you about ¡ª¡± Erin hesitated, biting her lip in apprehension.


    The stab of guilt pricked the Empress. In the past, she had lashed out prematurely, especially in the face of her ladies who expressed their reproach towards the Emperor who had cast her aside. Even then, she was foolishly tied to Richard, desperate to cling onto the idea of him rather than the reality. And now, in Erin¡¯s cautious nature around her, she saw the extent of how sightless she had truly become.


    ¡°Speak freely, Erin. I am listening now.¡±


    Erin nodded, taking a breath before starting again. ¡°Many people of the Empire are unhappy with the Emperor¡¯s rule, Jovine. They claim he is a power-hungry tyrant tarnishing the legacy of the late Emperor and Empress and that he doesn¡¯t deserve the crown. And, in light of all that, there are rumors of a magical lineage that bears the rightful claim to the throne.¡±


    Jovine widened her eyes. ¡°What?¡±


    Erin continued. ¡°As I did, most brush it off as baseless folly, but after what¡¯s happened to you¡­I can¡¯t help but feel there¡¯s weight in the whispers out there.¡±


    From the way she avoided her eyes and the slight fidgeting movements of her fingers, Jovine knew there was more. ¡°Erin, what are you holding back from me?¡±


    ¡°W-well, I don¡¯t know if it is true¡­I mean no reason to bring it up if it¡¯s just foolish gossip,¡± she mumbled nervously.


    ¡°Erin,¡± Jovine urged.


    With an audible gulp, she finally met Jovine¡¯s eyes. ¡°I think there¡¯s a rebellion forming. I¡¯ve had strangers come up to me asking if I¡¯ve ever dreamed of a world ruled by magic.¡±


    Jovine stopped before the window, resurfacing from the memory of her conversation.


    Long hours after Erin left, her mind wouldn¡¯t stop running.


    A world touched by magic. Dreaming of one ruled by it.


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    A rebellion. A magical lineage.


    She couldn¡¯t even begin to comprehend the extent of what she had heard. Magic only existed in books and daydreams, and never has there been a question that it could be real. So, why now?


    Something mystical was occurring within the Empire, and she needed to know more.


    Grabbing her robe and a lighted candle, Jovine rushed out of her chambers, heading straight to the Palace Libraries. Erin mentioned something about theories and history, and there was something she had said that was particularly lingering in the back of her mind.


    Walking briskly past the darkened hallways and down the grand, marble staircase, Jovine advanced towards the large, oak door. She was bound to find something useful in the Imperial archives.


    The scent of old paper, ink, and embers enveloped her as she stepped into the large expanse, the sight of ceiling-high ledges stacked with countless books greeting her. The warmth of the kindling fire and the red and gold furniture intertwining the endless shelves felt familiar, and it helped her breathe a little easier.


    With years of Imperial Education and the long nights she had spent perfecting her role as the Crown Princess, Jovine seamlessly maneuvered her way through the rows. Specifically looking for the historical account of the Empire, Jovine stopped by a large, velvet-lined tome resting near the back.


    Found it.


    As she touched the soft padding of the spine to heave it out, the sound of ice clinking against a glass tumbler froze her.


    ¡°Well, this is certainly a surprise.¡±


    The sound of his slurred words tensed her body until it pained her. This was the last person she wanted to see right now.


    ¡°You always did like to read in the dead of night,¡± Richard murmured.


    Jovine slowly turned, facing her husband who sat on a plush, burgundy settee with a glass of spirits twirling around in his hand. His face looked flushed and dark as the burning hearth flickered lights of reflection across his complexion.


    Palpable hatred flared within her as she stared at her intoxicated husband.


    ¡°Hm,¡± Richard mused. ¡°You¡¯ve never looked at me that way before. It almost looks as if you hate me.¡±


    ¡°And, if I do?¡± Jovine asked coolly.


    He tilted his head, studying her. ¡°I¡¯d tell you it¡¯s been a long time coming.¡±


    She frowned. It wasn¡¯t the answer she was expecting.


    ¡°But, I have to say I never expected it to feel like this,¡± he mumbled as an afterthought.


    Clenching her jaw, she looked away. If she wasn¡¯t so consumed with abhorrence for him, she could have laughed at how predictable he was.


    Her manipulative, scheming husband was well-versed in playing her heartstrings like a meager puppet, and it would have stirred her before, but not anymore. Besides, if fate ¡ª and liquor ¡ª were on her side, he wouldn¡¯t even remember this pathetic encounter in the morning.


    ¡°This. Your little outburst earlier tonight. Is it all some new way to get my attention?¡± he rambled on.


    ¡°Think as you wish, Your Majesty,¡± she dismissed, turning back to the book she had come here for. Taking it off the shelf and blowing the dust settled on the black covering, she flipped it open, browsing through the pages and ignoring the spike of awareness prickling down her spine from her husband¡¯s gaze.


    ¡°If it is, it¡¯s working,¡± he admitted.


    Closing her eyes, Jovine slammed the book shut. Rage bubbled in her veins, eager to burst out and strike her pompous, lying, cheating husband. If she stayed any longer, she would end up doing something she¡¯d regret. Now was not the time.


    Without even sparing a glance, Jovine moved to walk away.


    ¡°It¡¯s your husband¡¯s birthday,¡± Richard cried out, his voice raised. ¡°Do you have nothing else to say to me, Jovie?¡±


    She flinched at the long-forgotten nickname he had called her long before, when life felt like a promise and her love overflowed in abundance. Turning her head, Jovine blankly looked at him, slightly pleased by the haughty ire displayed across his face.


    ¡°May it be your happiest birthday, Your Majesty.¡±


    As his eyes flared in understanding, Jovine left him behind.

 How can I make you suffer?

    Jovine slammed the door to her bedchamber, her heart beats thudding against the book clutched tightly to her chest. Leaning against the wall, she slid down to the ground.


    She was practiced in the art of masking her feelings. She had always been quite good at bottling every unwanted emotion, and after months of facing Richard¡¯s betrayal and disguising her misery, it was almost like a bad habit.


    So when she saw him sitting there, drunk and slurring insincere words meant to shaken her resolve, the rage she had buried in her pursuit for answers surged back with a vengeance. But, as always, she couldn¡¯t quite unleash it. Because no matter how much she wanted to make him suffer, she didn¡¯t have the means to do it yet.


    Impulsively, she flung the heavy tome across the room, watching in twisted fulfillment as it knocked over a vase. Jovine envied the way it shamelessly shattered against the floor, the chaos and uninhibited nature of its demise so freely expressed in the broken shards. If only she could explode like that.


    Standing in a daze, she walked to where the book lay open against the fragmented glass. As she kneeled, she felt the pain of the smaller pieces digging into her skin, but it didn¡¯t faze her. Instead, she grasped a larger, jagged edge, observing the way its sharpness promised affliction. Her chest throbbed with the phantom pain of a dagger, the memory of her death echoing through her.


    How can I make you suffer? she thought bitterly. How can I bring you to misery.. to kneel before me, asking for mercy in the face of my wrath?


    Jovine clenched her fist, gripping the broken piece of glass that could so easily be exploited as a weapon. Murderous intent suddenly flashed through her, so acutely she saw an image of the bloodied bodies of her husband and his mistress tossed before her feet.


    No, Jovine.


    She gasped, recoiling away from her own thoughts as she flung the shard away from her.


    This wasn''t her. What was she thinking?


    With shaking hands, Jovine wiped her wounded palm against her nightgown. But as she did, a distinctly familiar scene flashed through her mind as she remembered the way Emilia had wiped her own bloodied hand against her before leaving her to die.


    ¡°No!¡± Jovine shrieked aloud, scrambling away from the mirage before her.


    Clutching her knees to her chest, she rocked back and forth. She was lost in a sea of emotions, her memories fractured and the trauma of her death still too fresh for her to claim sanity. She wanted revenge, yet she had no direction on how to obtain it. She wanted them to suffer as much as she had, but she couldn¡¯t bear to lower herself to their despicable nature. If she did, she would only be a captive to the cycle of tragedy.


    So, what could she do?


    Jovine was tired of crying, yet the tears came anyway. Her frustration, repressed anger, and the injustice that was still left unavenged was enough to make her want to fade away into the darkness just to find peace, but the thought of someone like Emilia walking away unscathed made her blood boil.


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    If she did nothing, she would find herself on the path to death. With her memories gone, she had no way to navigate this foreign terrain, and all she was left with was the war within her mind fighting for vengeance and freedom.


    When will my agony end?


    Unaware of how much time was passing, Jovine simply remained huddled on the floor, waiting until she was able to quell her torment.


    It never truly came, so all she could do was pull herself together.


    Mindlessly, Jovine found herself clearing away the broken mess, picking up every piece of glass until the disorder was erased. She found a clean cloth to wrap her bleeding hand and tended to the cuts on her knees. She took off her blood-stained nightgown and even went to the lengths to wash it away in her bathing chambers so her ladies wouldn¡¯t be alarmed in the morning. After hanging it to dry, she found a spare nightgown to don.


    Jovine collected herself until she felt a sense of control, and all that was left to do was walk over to the open book still lying on the ground.


    Give me the smallest answer, at least, she prayed as she bent down to lift it. The least she could start with was finding the reason for her reincarnation.


    Seating herself on a divan in the drawing room, Jovine studied the displayed pages. It was an old entry on the Cult Wars that had ravaged the land 500 years ago ¡ª a part of the Empire¡¯s history all the citizens were familiar with.


    Erin had mentioned the presence of magic in theories and history, but the Cult Wars sprung from warring religions and underground cults bringing twisted ideals and schemes into the young kingdom until the Tristaine Dynasty solidified its rule and eradicated the treasonous masses. After ruthless battles and bloodshed, the Royal Family declared the Holy Church and High Priest as the single authority over the chosen faith, and all traitors were either sentenced to death or excommunicated.


    It was history Jovine had never questioned, yet if she read the faded entries with the different perspective she now held, she couldn¡¯t help but wonder if something was purposefully left out.


    If these ¡°cults¡± were centered around magic or the supernatural, it could align with the ideas Erin had heard on the streets. Could history have been fabricated for the sake of the Empire? But how could people forget such a crucial part of the story?


    Jovine squeezed her eyes, shaking her head. She was desperate enough for answers that she was rewriting history in her mind. Sighing in exasperation, Jovine scolded herself for her deluded thoughts and flipped through the pages.


    She scanned through the same accounts she had studied as a young child, impatience creeping under her skin the longer she spent searching for an explanation that never came. It wasn¡¯t until she neared the end that she found something unfathomable.


    Past the entries of Richard¡¯s grandparents and his father¡¯s youth as the Crown Prince, Jovine came upon several pages that were torn out. The only legible heading was on a ripped sheet titled Dreamers in a handwriting that she recognized.


    The late Empress Helene.


    Jovine¡¯s blood ran cold.


    What was this?


    Countless times in the past she had gone through this exact book, yet something that never existed was now before her.


    And the word Dreamers¡­


    ¡°I¡¯ve had strangers come up to me asking if I¡¯ve ever dreamed of a world ruled by magic.¡±


    Jovine recalled the words Erin had said and terror prickled down her spine as she stared in shock.


    This couldn¡¯t be a coincidence. She swore this had never been there before, yet the ripped pages still intact were the same faded yellow as the ones preceding it, as if it had been written all this time. A handful of pages were missing, meaning someone had ripped them out, and the handwriting was unmistakably the late Empress¡¯s, whose penmanship was as familiar as her own after studying under her for years.


    Flicking through the torn pages in a state of frantic panic, Jovine finally came to the entry of Richard¡¯s birth, the expected record that used to come right after, but something crumpled was stuck between the spine of the book now.


    Taking it out with bated breath, Jovine unfolded the battered page until a discolored map came into view.


    I don''t understand, Jovine thought in disbelief.


    What are you trying to tell me?

 "E"

    Erin carefully balanced a tray of warm honey tea as she walked through the halls of the Palace.


    It was the break of dawn ¡ª the moment when the cold hue of twilight touched the windows as the candles began to flicker away. There was a chill in the air and the echo of distant footsteps signified the start of a new day.


    The Empress was yet to wake and it would still be a while until the other ladies started preparing, but Erin had woken from a restless sleep, concern and apprehension tugging at her conscience. She had tossed and turned all night, running through the inexplicable revelation her Empress had divulged, and when she could no longer find sleep again, she had jumped out of bed.


    Jovine had dismissed her last night, insisting she retire despite her insistence to stay. She was worried for the fragile state of the Empress¡¯s body and mind. After everything that had happened and everything that was supposedly going to happen, it didn¡¯t feel right to leave. But, she respectfully obeyed, knowing Jovine wouldn''t let herself cry until the room was empty.


    Arriving at the door to the Empress¡¯s Palace, Erin took a breath and stopped. She would be lying if she said there wasn¡¯t a single speck of doubt drifting through her mind, but she also wasn¡¯t lying when she told Jovine she believed her.


    Throughout the past few months, the Empress had become a ghost of herself. Erin was a witness to the way everything crumbled before her. From the moment Prince Richard had left, each passing day took a little more of her light. No matter how much she may have tried to hide it or push through the pain, the Empress was slowly breaking and fading away, and for those who loved her, it was tortuous knowing nothing could truly heal the scars embedded within her heart.


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    So, no matter how preposterous her story may have sounded, she trusted the Empress she served. And, after all the heartache and cruelty she was burdened with, Erin knew Jovine needed to see that she wasn¡¯t alone.


    Determined, Erin quietly opened the door into the drawing room.


    Her eyes widened.


    Sitting in the unlit room, staring into the unknown, Empress Jovine was awake.


    Looking haggard and almost hollow, a trickle of dread rippled down her spine at the sight of her Empress.


    ¡°Your Majesty?¡± Erin called out in a wary voice.


    At the sound of her voice, the Empress jolted. ¡°Erin? What are you doing here so early?¡±


    Promptly closing the door, Erin walked over to the table before her and laid out the tea set she had prepared. ¡°I wanted to greet you before the others arrived¡­see how you were feeling,¡± she explained, moving around the room to open the curtains for the coming sunrise and lighting a few candles to brighten the dark place.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you came,¡± the Empress started. ¡°I need you to do something for me.¡±


    Erin turned to find the Empress clutching something in her hands as she stood from the divan. She stumbled unsteadily, and Erin rushed to her aid. ¡°Your Majesty! Are you unwell?¡±


    Jovine clutched onto the young girl¡¯s arm, leaning against her. Up close, Erin could see that her eyes were red and heavy from the lack of sleep.


    ¡°Send this for me,¡± Jovine said lowly, pressing a sealed letter into her hand.


    Erin looked down to read the address. A simple, cursive ¡°E¡± was written on the front. She froze.


    ¡°Jovine,¡± she whispered in a shaky voice. ¡°Is this for¡­him?¡±


    The Empress reached out, gripping her arm in a sense of urgency. ¡°I need you to go now. Can you do this?¡±


    Erin swallowed, looking up into her pleading eyes. She nodded hesitantly.


    A worried frown marred the Empress¡¯s beautiful face. ¡°Make sure you¡¯re not followed. Simply send it, and come right back.¡±


    Erin tightened her hold on the letter, and calmed her racing heart.


    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty.¡±

 Provoke (Part I)

    Helene de Tristaine. Beloved Mother, Wife, and Empress. May you rest in peace until we meet again.


    Placing a humble bouquet of wildflowers against the engraved headstone, Jovine paid her respects to the late Empress. She recalled that bitter, gray day when she stood in the Imperial Cemetery with a numb, faraway husband that couldn¡¯t care less for the family he had just buried and the suffocation of regret strangling her breath. It felt like a lifetime ago.


    ¡°Even now, you¡¯re still haunting me,¡± Jovine whispered hollowly.


    Squeezing her eyes shut, the image of the map she had shoved into a locked drawer flashed across her eyelids. All through her sleepless night, she had tried deciphering it. The faded map. The missing pages that never should have existed. The late Empress¡¯s written entry left behind. Someone was leaving her a trail of clues, and while she couldn¡¯t explain how, she knew without a doubt it was the late Empress.


    ¡°It will all come back to you one day. One where all this nonsense will become clear.¡±


    The words Empress Helene had spoken to her brushed by like an ominous whisper. Even then, it felt as if she knew something. Something that was coming and something she couldn¡¯t explain just yet.


    It had always weighed in the back of her mind. Empress Helene was a woman of purpose. No matter how heartbroken or grief-stricken she would have been from the death of her husband, Jovine couldn¡¯t believe she would leave her son behind. And on that forsaken night, Jovine could have sworn there was a spark of defiance still burning behind her mourning eyes. She was a woman of great wisdom and one who had the look of suffering branded within her past.


    So, why would she leave like that?


    Jovine clenched her fists, her eyes stinging and her head pounding painfully. With one more bow of deference, she turned away. Determination sang through her veins as she walked past the ancient gravestones embedded within the harsh green of the warm Spring day. For too long had she submitted blindly to the dark. Now, her eyes were opened and it felt as if the world was finally in focus. Time ran slower, and although she still felt lost, she was alive. And, that¡¯s all she could count on at the moment.


    Up ahead, she saw Lady Margaret and a few of her younger maids waiting by the gardens. Seeing that Erin had still not returned, Jovine felt the stirrings of concern.


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    It was only after a long, careful deliberation the night before that she had decided to write the letter. It troubled her to write it. It pained her even more to have to ask Erin to deliver it for her. But, she needed more people on her side. Someone to help protect her as she ventured out for answers, and someone who was devious enough to do the things she couldn¡¯t quite bring herself to do yet.


    So, trusting the task to Erin, Jovine shook away the doubts and walked on ahead towards her ladies who greeted her with trepidation.


    ¡°Your Majesty, please consider taking the afternoon to rest,¡± Lady Margaret pleaded quietly as they walked through the Palace Gardens.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Jovine assured her with a small smile. ¡°But, I will take advantage of the fresh air and sunshine. Will you bring all the documents I need to review to the West Pavilion?¡±


    Satisfied enough, Lady Margaret happily departed to retrieve the necessary records. As soon as she was left with her maids, Jovine turned to them as well.


    ¡°Leslie, would you bring out some tea and biscuits for a quick snack?¡± Jovine asked the shy girl with soft brown eyes. Lighting up, she chirped her affirmation and scurried away.


    ¡°Harper,¡± Jovine called to the last maid walking with her. ¡°I would like to go over some historical accounts from the Imperial Library. If you could ask the Keeper to arrange an overview of all the records he can find, I would appreciate it.¡±


    Looking uneasy, the young girl timidly spoke, ¡°I will wait with you until Lady Margaret and Leslie return, Your Majesty.¡±


    ¡°No need to worry. I would like a few moments alone.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty,¡± she hesitantly bowed, and Jovine watched as she hurried away.


    Sighing, Jovine basked in the sunlight warming her face. Some of her maids were newer additions to her service once she was crowned as Empress, and while their loyalty was yet to be tested, she wanted them to feel secure with her. Feeling a bit down, but relieved for a moment alone, Jovine rested in the comfort of the chirping birds and familiar green.


    It wasn''t until she walked past the monumental marble fountain splashing crystal waters through the air that she stopped, the slight reprieve of peace she felt fading away. Out of habit, she had come here ¡ª the place stained with her memories of Richard.


    Her little chocolate escapade, her nightly walks with him in the past, her desperate hold on their promise to meet here on the night before their coronation. A sharp twist of pain convulsed in her chest.


    She hated him. She hated how much she had loved him, and how hard it was to forget that she couldn¡¯t bear to love him now. Not when she could still see him entangled in that wretched woman¡¯s arms while she was taken away by Death.


    Her breaths heaved out unevenly, and her vision slowly turned red again.


    ¡°Your Majesty?¡± The sound of a deep, surprised voice startled her.


    She slowly turned.


    Clashing against intense gold eyes, she came face-to-face with Grand Duke Amon vel Feyras.

 Provoke (Part II)

    Dressed immaculately in a dark suit embroidered in threads of gold and with his silver hair tied back artfully from his sharp face, Amon vel Feyras should have been a vision of elegance. But his towering height and the intimidating breadth of his shoulders screamed power and intensity. It was clear he was a wealthy noble in high standing, but there was a rugged, wild nature in those jarring gold eyes of his and the firm set of his jaw that made him feel dangerous and untamed.


    Jovine recalled seeing him a few times after the coronation, but those encounters were blurred. Back then, all she could remember was watching for Richard¡¯s attention.


    Pathetic, she thought in self-loathing.


    ¡°Something troubles you,¡± Amon murmured with a frown, stepping closer until they were mere inches apart. ¡°What is it, Your Majesty?¡±


    Her eyes shuttered, attempting to suppress the surge of anger that had overcome her. When she looked at him again, her expression smoothed into one of polite stoicism. ¡°Nothing I won¡¯t survive,¡± she replied with a forced smile.


    The Grand Duke¡¯s frown deepened. ¡°You prefer to bear your burdens alone, yet the weight of it seems to be suffocating you.¡±


    Jovine¡¯s face fell at his bold, daring words. It was almost as if he was challenging her to explode. ¡°What brings you here, Grand Duke?¡± she evaded.


    Looking down with a resigned smirk, he stepped back. ¡°I was offered quarters last night after His Majesty¡¯s Banquet. I¡¯m set to leave soon, but I¡¯m glad to have crossed paths with you. I admit I was quite worried with the way you left so abruptly last night.¡±


    She internally winced, now remembering how completely hysterical she must have looked. If only they knew the truth of it. She sighed. ¡°Yes, well, I wish you safe travels, Grand Duke.¡±


    Amon remained silent for a while, simply staring at her with an unreadable expression. A humorless laugh broke the tension. ¡°As straightforward as always.¡± He tipped his head up towards the sun, letting the light cast down on his ethereal face. ¡°One day, I hope you¡¯ll take what you¡¯re owed and break free from whatever ¡ª or whoever ¡ª it is that put such a pained look in your eyes, Your Majesty.¡± He met her gaze with a fierce look as the wind picked up in a savage whirl. ¡°I hope you¡¯ll be selfish and rain fire on them.¡±


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    Jovine¡¯s hands trembled as his words sunk in, burrowing deep into her soul until she felt a raging pull to do exactly as he said. Oh, how she wanted to take, break free, rain fire. All of it. Clenching her fists to quell the desperation clawing at her to escape, Jovine dug her nails into her palm until the agonizing pain of her broken skin screamed in fury. Gasping, she looked down and saw her bandaged hand dressing the cut from the night before bleeding through the fabric. She internally cursed as her palm throbbed.


    Amon¡¯s hand shot out and grabbed onto her wrist as he crowded into her body.


    ¡°What happened to you?¡± he roughly cried, his eyes blazing and his face warped in terrible concern.


    ¡°It¡¯s a mere cut¡­Nothing to ¡ª¡±


    Mumbling an incoherent string of frustrated words, Amon whipped out a gold handkerchief from the breast pocket of his suit. In a flash, he unwrapped the red-soaked cloth ¡ª looking down at the jagged cut as if it pained him ¡ª and gently wound her hand in the fresh fabric. When he finished tying a skilled knot atop her palm, he simply held on, his sizable, warm hand engulfing her dainty, pale fingers. With his thumb caressing her skin, it felt as if he wanted to soothe the pain away with his touch.


    Jovine watched his face morph in a look of¡­ache. Speechless, she stared at him in bewilderment. The way he touched her. The look in his eyes. It felt too intimate.


    Amon looked up, his frown deep-set and the grimacing lines around his mouth carved into his skin, but as he looked into her eyes and saw the question there, he froze. A flare of astonishment sparked in the gold depths of his piercing gaze. His grip tightened slightly, and he stepped closer.


    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± he whispered, a look of awe tilting the corners of his mouth. ¡°You ¡ª¡±


    ¡°How terribly insolent of you, Amon.¡± The Emperor¡¯s booming voice broke through the haze.


    Jovine bit her inner cheek, startled and enraged at the sound of his voice. Amon¡¯s face darkened, but he held onto her hand, his eyes never leaving her. She refused to break her gaze as well, even as she felt her husband step close beside her. It wasn¡¯t until Richard yanked her body into his side with a hard hand on her waist that she tasted blood in her mouth.


    ¡°I could have your head for touching the Empress when she doesn¡¯t want you to,¡± Richard seethed with an arrogant smile in his voice.


    Jovine watched as Amon clenched his jaw, but she felt her own face relax, her rage settling into one of calm fury. She flicked a glance at her husband who stood at her side with a look of haughty authority and claim.


    ¡°Who said I didn¡¯t want him to touch me?¡±

 Provoke (Part III)

    Watching his pride shatter would have tasted sweet enough to assuage her anger, but the only sign of her husband¡¯s displeasure was his warning grip at her waist. He pulled her harder against his side and seized her hand from the Grand Duke¡¯s hold.


    Inspecting her wrapped palm, he ran a finger across the knotted cloth. ¡°You only like it when I touch you," he sneered with a knowing glint in his eyes.


    She clenched her jaw. It may have been the truth just a few months ago, but now, she couldn¡¯t bear to feel his skin against her own. ¡°After everything, do you honestly think that¡¯s still true?¡± she murmured under her breath, conscious of the Grand Duke¡¯s gaze piercing the side of her face.


    Richard¡¯s eyes narrowed. Abruptly untying the twist of the Duke¡¯s handkerchief over her injured hand, he blindly flung the fabric away. Keeping his gaze on the inflamed gash, he ignored her remark and spoke to the Grand Duke. ¡°You¡¯ve overstayed your welcome, Amon.¡±


    Jovine tried escaping his grasp, but Richard tightened his hold and savagely dug through the inner pockets of his suit. Whisking out a dark, silk cloth, he wrapped her palm with it. When the Grand Duke continued to stand there, unmoving and unresponsive, Richard snapped his head to the side with a dirty look on his face. ¡°You aren¡¯t expecting us to waste our time giving you an unnecessary send-off, are you?¡±


    Appalled by his brash actions in front of their company, Jovine subdued her revulsion and turned away from her vexed husband and towards the man who had only been civil in her presence. ¡°I apologize ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± Richard snapped.


    Jovine continued, ignoring his words and finally freeing her wrist from his grasp. She disregarded the feel of his hand roughly settling at her waist again. ¡°I apologize for the intrusion, Grand Duke Amon. Are you leaving the Capital?¡±


    Amon looked back at her, his eyes no longer soft but hard and unyielding. Just as his lips parted to answer, Richard¡¯s voice cut through. ¡°Amon will be leaving for Mallory. I would say it¡¯s a shame he won¡¯t be coming back but ¡ª¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Amon interjected.


    Richard stiffened. ¡°What did you say?¡±


    ¡°The matter we discussed before¡­I¡¯ve decided my answer is no.¡±


    Unaware of what he meant, Jovine frowned as she looked between the tense exchange.


    A menacing calm settled over her husband. ¡°Be very careful what you say next.¡±


    Amon turned his gaze back towards Jovine, a daring smile splitting across his face. ¡°You see, I¡¯ve found a reason to stay a while longer.¡±


    Unwillingly, her pulse jumped. The way he was looking at her sent chills down her spine. Richard¡¯s fingers trickled down to her hips possessively. ¡°Leave,¡± he uttered to the Duke, his tone calm but scathing.


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    Amon stepped closer, bowing low and taking her uninjured hand to place his warm, smiling lips against it. He murmured his farewell into her skin. ¡°I will see you again, my Empress.¡±


    Jovine held back from snatching her hand away, the promise in his words strangely making her feel uncomfortable. Her husband was the last person who deserved her loyalty, but habits were hard to break. With Richard¡¯s body plastered to her side, she found herself needing the reminder that the man beside her wasn¡¯t the one she fell in love with. He was an unfaithful scoundrel who deserved every ounce of hatred she had been holding back for too long.


    Unable to respond, Jovine simply nodded. With a curt bow towards the Emperor, Grand Duke Amon vel Feyras departed, casually stalking through the Gardens. She kept her eyes on his retreating back when a humorless laugh sounded at her side.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to pathetic lengths to get my attention,¡± Richard scoffed.


    Jovine¡¯s body turned rigid. ¡°Take your hands off of me,¡± she quietly gritted out.


    Instead of heeding her request, her husband swerved her around until their chests pressed together. Leaning down, he observed her with a clinical stare. ¡°You¡¯re injuring yourself, causing scenes in public, and consorting with Amon vel Feyras of all people. You wanted to catch my eye and now you have. People are whispering, and you know how much I hate bothersome things like this wasting my time. What do you need for all this foolishness to stop? A night in my bed?¡±


    She internally flinched at his belittling insinuation. The way he spoke to her wasn¡¯t a husband speaking to his wife. He was treating her as if she were the tiresome mistress begging for a spare second of his time. He was as calculating and cruel as ever. She shouldn¡¯t have expected anything less. Instead of lashing out as she so wanted to, Jovine leered at him with hollow eyes. ¡°If I need a good frolic between the sheets, rest assured I won¡¯t go looking for you.¡±


    A look of genuine, unpleasant surprise flashed through his stormy eyes. Although his disgruntled expression was a sight she would have reveled in, Jovine wanted nothing more than to get away from his heated body. Harshly pushing against his chest, she wrenched herself out of his embrace. Dusting herself roughly with her hands as if she could wipe his fingerprints off with a flick of her wrist, she briskly walked past him.


    Richard grabbed her elbow, jerking her back. ¡°What has gotten into you?¡±


    His indignant face and baffled voice caused her to scoff. ¡°Does it bother you, Your Majesty? Envisioning me with another man?¡±


    His grip hardened. ¡°I know you, Jovine. You only see me. You have always only looked at me. Don¡¯t make me laugh with your unfounded innuendos.¡±


    She was the one who could laugh right then. How worthless did he think she was? ¡°Why would I be looking at you? You have Emilia. It¡¯s only fair I should have my own lover, is it not?¡± She had never considered having another man in her bed, but if it could wound her husband¡¯s pride, she would spout just about anything.


    ¡°Lover?¡± he spat. ¡°I am your husband.¡±


    ¡°In name only.¡± She leaned in, whispering her next words. ¡°Nothing in our marriage is real. Wasn¡¯t it you who admitted it?¡±


    Rage flared across his face, but he seemed to be at a loss for words. Ripping herself away from his hold for the last time, she looked at him blankly. ¡°I have people waiting for me.¡±


    As Empress Jovine turned her back and walked away from her husband, she didn¡¯t see the hurt flicker across his face. Richard de Tristaine stumbled back, seizing his head from a stubborn migraine pounding at his temples. He squeezed his eyes shut from the blunt pain and when he opened them again, his bearings calmed and pride overcame the confusion. When Jovine¡¯s form was no longer visible, he tilted his head and scoffed. A twinge of something unpleasant twisted in his hollow chest, but he ignored it. Instead, the Emperor turned away, telling himself he would not be affected and allowing the ghost of his memories blow away with the wind as he stepped through the grounds that were forever tainted with the echoes of his fading wife.

 Inevitable Ruin

    Jovine stomped through the gardens, blindly making her way to the Western Pavilion. She hated that she could still feel the imprint of his hand against her bodice. She despised that she still saw the storm that had raged in his eyes.


    Jovine stopped short, looking down at the dark cloth wrapped around her hand. Abruptly, she tore it away, clutching the fabric in her fist when the embroidery caught her attention. Smoothing it in her palm, her eyes traveled through the golden threads elegantly stitched into a pattern of yellow roses in the corners of the deep blue fabric. She furrowed her brows, her lips parting and a sharp throb echoing through her chest.


    Only a handful of years had passed, but it felt like a lifetime ago. It was on the night of their wedding that she had gifted the handkerchief to him. She had spent endless nights perfecting the design, working until her fingers cramped so she could offer him a piece of their most cherished memory together ¡ª the day he proposed to her. The day she fell in love. It had the yellow roses from the hill and the deep blue of his eyes she had fallen for. It wasn¡¯t much, but she recalled the smile in his eyes and the kisses he rained down on her when she presented him with the humble gift.


    He still carried it with him.


    A part of her resolve threatened to shatter as the longing for her husband crushed her. She had to remind herself how much she hated him. She hated how he hurt her, the way he took another woman into his bed and stood aside as she died. She hated his callous heart and the cruelty etched into his face. But if she was honest with herself, the only thing she hated the most was how much she had loved him. Even now, in the midst of her overwhelming hatred, she still felt the echos of her devotion. It was nothing short of pure torture.


    Biting her trembling lips, Jovine looked once more at the yellow threaded roses, the image of the field of flowers on the Summer Palace hills calling out to her.


    He¡¯s gone, she told herself again and again. That man¡­that memory¡­is no longer real.


    Richard wouldn¡¯t remember the significance of this meager piece of cloth. She was sure of it¡­


    The frantic clicks of running heels took her attention away from her thoughts. Looking up, Jovine saw Emilia Syrene running through the stone path cut through the wall of green leaves and carefully tended beds of budding flowers. Dressed heavily in a deep red, bedazzled gown with her hair held back by a glittering headpiece, her agitated face matched the frantic pace of her tread. Her maids followed promptly behind, their eyes widening when they saw the Empress.


    Jovine slowly clenched her fist. She held back an unconscious flinch as the memory of her death tore through her. It was their first collision since her awakening in the past, but Jovine was surprised to find herself tranquil and still as her wrath veiled itself beneath her calm exterior. Whereas her unfulfilled resentment for her husband felt like being burned by the red-hot mark of rage, seeing Emilia felt like cold fury steadily icing its way up her spine and into her bloodstream. She wouldn¡¯t lash out and strike her as her instincts urged her to. She would play it smarter if she wished to come out of this alive.


    When Emilia finally came across her cold gaze, she slowed her hurried steps and narrowed her eyes. Quickly flicking her sights around, it looked as if she was looking for someone else ¡ª or as if she expected for someone to be with her.


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    ¡°Where is he?¡± Emilia snapped, stopping before Jovine with a distasteful look on her face. She continued spinning her head around wildly.


    She was looking for Richard. Jovine¡¯s lips twitched in response to the evident displeasure Emilia displayed at the idea of her in any close proximity to her own husband.


    When it was clear that the Emperor was no where near, Emilia sneered at her with a scoff. ¡°You¡¯re embarrassing yourself trying to get him back. That outburst last night? I would laugh, but I find it too pitiful to even do that. Don¡¯t delude yourself, Jovine. He¡¯s mine.¡±


    Emilia walked past her, harshly brushing by with her nose pointed up in the air. Jovine had always been a cowering fool in their encounters before ¡ª always fearful of being on the end of Richard¡¯s ire if she hurt a speck of his mistress¡¯s bursting pride. But now, she couldn¡¯t care less. She had her own temper to unleash.


    ¡°Emilia,¡± she coolly called, smoothly turning to watch her and her maids stop in their tracks. Emilia flipped around with a glare in her flared, black eyes.


    Jovine calmly walked forward, even going so far to tuck an errant strand of red hair behind the woman¡¯s ear. It was condescending and something she wouldn¡¯t have ever done, but the spark of furious surprise in Emilia¡¯s eyes brought satisfaction. She was tired of being trampled.


    No more.


    ¡°You will address me as Your Majesty from now on,¡± she coldly started. ¡°You will treat me with respect, and you will adhere to the Imperial Regulations and properly announce yourself.¡±


    Emilia released another hateful scoff. ¡°What did you say?¡±


    ¡°Do I need to repeat myself?¡±


    Emilia snickered. ¡°Is this a new persona you¡¯ve adopted for Richard?¡±


    Jovine abhorred the way she called her husband so familiarly. It shouldn¡¯t have bothered her at this point, but bitterness overcame her. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter where you stand with the Emperor. I am the Empress of this nation, and you will recognize me as such. You will give me the same respect I offered you when I recognized you as his Concubine.¡±


    Emilia crossed her arms, tilting her head in contemplation as her maids exchanged tense looks. ¡°Your title means nothing, Jovine.¡± She stepped closer and leaned in. ¡°I have the Emperor in my grasp. One he won¡¯t escape. That alone gives me a capacity even you can¡¯t reach. Am I understood, Jovine?¡±


    Her words caught her attention, subduing the initial anger that tried to devour her. ¡°In your grasp,¡± Jovine repeated Emilia¡¯s words. ¡°One he won¡¯t¡­escape. You have a strange way of portraying your relationship with His Majesty.¡±


    Emilia¡¯s brow twitched as she leaned away. Her expression settled into one of pure loathing. ¡°I have his heart. He loves me. That means he won¡¯t ever easily escape our devotion to one another. You are the one who needs to be careful around me. Richard will never stand for it if you treat me so carelessly.¡±


    ¡°Your naivety is showing, Emilia. The very fact that you rely on his heart for advantage is the very thing that will have you cast aside just as quickly. Your dependence on his favor makes you nothing but a woman balancing on the fickle nature of a man. There is no capacity in that. There is only inevitable ruin.¡±


    Emilia smirked. ¡°Would you care to bet on that? Where I¡¯m concerned, Richard¡¯s favor will never run out. That much I guarantee.¡±


    A familiar face in the distance caught Jovine¡¯s eye as Emilia spoke. Brushing through the garden path, Erin was finally back. When their gazes met, Erin gave a firm nod. The letter was delivered.


    ¡°Your confidence intrigues me,¡± she blankly muttered, looking back with sharp eyes. ¡°I see no reason to go to the lengths of gambling, but you can count on my interest in your unwavering faith.¡±


    Lifting Emilia¡¯s hands, she dropped Richard¡¯s embroidered handkerchief into her grasp. ¡°I¡¯ll assume you¡¯re on your way to His Majesty and trust that you¡¯ll return this for me. It belongs to him.¡±


    Without waiting for a response, Jovine was the one who walked away this time. As she headed towards Erin, unsettling thoughts and doubts poked the back of her mind. She didn¡¯t have the means to find answers before or take action against her unjust, coming death, but her plans would soon begin now.


    I will live, she vowed. And they will suffer.

 Hes Mine

    Emilia Syrene, Concubine of the Theolos Empire, simmered in pure fury.


    As Empress Jovine¡¯s elegant form disappeared behind the corners of the lush gardens, she looked down at the blood-stained, embroidered handkerchief. The pattern was familiar. It was one she had seen the Emperor carry countless time.


    Why did Jovine have it?


    She bit her lips, an ugly rush of envy spreading through her veins. The Emperor loved her, not the wife he cast aside. She was the one he spent his nights worshipping. She was the one he cared for every second of each passing day. Not Jovine. Her. Seeing a single speck of interest thrown in Jovine¡¯s direction enraged her.


    Crumbling the fabric in her fist, she flung it hard at one of her maids. The young girl flinched, hurrying to catch the floating cloth.


    ¡°Burn it,¡± Emilia coldly ordered.


    ¡°But, Your Highness ¡ª¡±


    Emilia threw a scathing glare at the cowering girl before her. She was newer to her service but timid enough to conform with a bit of scolding. ¡°Are you questioning my order?¡±


    The girl clamped her lips shut, shaking her head vehemently. ¡°N-no, Your Highness.¡±


    ¡°Burn it. Rip it to shreds. Do whatever to make sure it¡¯s utterly ruined,¡± she snapped.


    The girl bowed her head in understanding.


    ¡°Pay no mind to the Empress¡¯s words, Your Highness. She merely wishes to provoke you.¡± Lady Abigail¡¯s soothing voice penetrated her fog of anger. She was an older court lady sent by Lord Ballio when she ascended to the status of Concubine, and although her air of noble arrogance sometimes vexed her, Emilia was wise enough to take advantage of her talents. The woman was almost as conniving as she was.


    ¡°Of course she¡¯s trying to provoke me,¡± Emilia scoffed, freeing a few buttons from her gown to better highlight her spilling cleavage. Her voice feigned a casual air of superiority, but inside her mind, a thread of trepidation weaved through her. The Empress had been a distant annoyance, a pest and device to play for her ego. She couldn¡¯t explain just how pleasurable it was to watch Richard rebuke his wife for her gain. And every single time, Jovine had been a submissive puppet, dancing to the strings of her husband¡¯s ire. The Empress¡¯s blind love for her unfaithful husband was so pathetic it was humorous to watch such a beautiful, powerful woman shrink in surrender to someone like her


    But the woman who asserted her authority just now was different. She was strong and unflinching and¡­catching the eye of the Emperor. At the Birthday Banquet, she watched as Richard¡¯s gaze followed his fleeing wife, his dismayed hand still outstretched from the grasp Jovine escaped. When she had heard from one of the passing maids that he was out in the Gardens looking close and cozy in front of the Grand Duke, she had rushed out without a second thought. Lady Abigail was right. The Empress was nothing. She had to find Richard.


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    Emilia instructed her ladies to prepare a bath and fresh sheets in her chambers, expecting another tumble with her lover soon. As they departed, she passed through the vast Gardens, impatiently trampling across the overwhelming foliage barricading her sights as she looked for the Emperor. When she found him near a bush of yellow roses, her heart galloped in anticipation. But as she neared, she slowed her steps and observed the Emperor¡¯s troubled, frowning stare. His face was lined in puzzlement and distress as his fingers gently stroked the yellow petals. Emilia didn¡¯t know where his thoughts could have possibly wandered off to, but a sense of unease prickled her.


    She scrunched her face in anguish and harshly pinched her thighs until tears swelled up in her eyes. Crying out in a trembling voice, she ran towards the Emperor. ¡°Richard!¡±


    He turned his head, finally noticing her presence. His eyebrows stayed knitted as she slammed into his body and circled her arms around his waist.


    ¡°Emilia?¡± his muddled voice called, automatically taking her into his arms. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    She burrowed deeper into his embrace, dramatically sniffling into his powerful chest. ¡°T-the E-Empress¡­she¡­¡± Emilia cried harder.


    Richard clutched her shoulders and leaned her away until their eyes met. ¡°What did you do?¡±


    Her theatrical blubbers stopped.


    What?


    Her temper bubbled up to the surface, but she suppressed it. ¡°What did I do?¡±


    Richard wiped the tears from her cheeks. ¡°Jovine is not one to retort unless she¡¯s evoked to. What did you say to her?¡±


    Emilia¡¯s heart skipped a beat and not in the way she had wanted it to. Why did it sound like he was defending her? All the times in the past, he had solely appeased her. ¡°Nothing!¡± she protested, her voice high-pitched and whining. ¡°She was the one who looked down on me and demanded I bow down to her like some sort of servant!¡±


    He raised a brow, tilting his head. ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound like her.¡±


    ¡°She did,¡± Emilia insisted, fisting the lapels of his suit. ¡°She demanded I recognize her dominance over me. How could she ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Jovine is the Empress, Emilia. You would do well to remember that.¡±


    This time, genuine tears ran down her face. ¡°Why are you taking her side? You know how difficult it¡¯s been for me in the Palace. You know everyone looks down on me. The last thing I need is someone like her making me feel lower than the dirt on her shoes!¡±


    Richard¡¯s frown deepened as her sobs grew louder. ¡°Emilia ¡ª¡±


    She looped her arms around his neck, pulling his head down until their noses touched. ¡°Kiss me,¡± she whispered urgently.


    ¡°What?¡±


    Emilia clawed at his nape and pressed her body into him. ¡°Hold me. Take me. Now.¡±


    Surging into him, she trapped his lips in hers. She poked her tongue against his mouth and waited until he opened and kissed her back.


    Her surroundings blurred and their bodies heated as things took a passionate turn. As the Emperor¡¯s hands traveled through the curved crevices of her body, Emilia couldn¡¯t stop her relieved smile from spreading against the skin of his neck.


    Do you see, Jovine? He¡¯s mine.


    Mine.


    Mine.


    Mine.

 Bonus Scene: Under the Stars

    Jovine Rainer - Age 17


    Taking a sip from her delicate, porcelain cup, Jovine Rainer discreetly swept her eyes across the large expanse of the Imperial Drawing Room. Though she told herself she was simply observing the grand, elegant decor, there was someone she was hoping would walk through the door.


    The resonant sound of her father¡¯s laugh caught her wandering attention. Amicably chatting with Emperor Alexander de Tristaine, Marquess Edward Rainer ¡ª a man who never really smiled much ¡ª looked the most content as she¡¯d ever seen him before. His handsome, lined face was lit up in fond nostalgia as he conversed with the Emperor who was more an old friend than a monarch.


    They were seated around a table mounted with platters of delectable goods, her mother sitting across from her where she doted on her youngest brother, Edgar, who was still young enough to cling to her side. Easton, her second brother and heir to the Rainer name, sat near her father, stiff but polite as ever as he dutifully engaged in conversation.


    ¡°It¡¯s a shame Elias wasn¡¯t able to make it,¡± the Emperor spoke, noticing the absence of her eldest brother.


    Her father¡¯s face fell, his mouth opening to answer, but as quick as ever, Jovine¡¯s mother placed a firm hand on his arm.


    ¡°Elias is still recovering his health, Your Majesty. We thank you for your prayers,¡± she smoothly intervened.


    Her father thinned his lips but took his wife¡¯s hand ¡ª a comfort he reluctantly sought. Although Jovine felt uncomfortable from the sudden tension and the thought of Elias, she stayed silent and proceeded to drink her tea. She retreated to the comforts of her own mind, dwelling in the silence of it as the chattering around her resumed. When the cushions beside her shifted, Jovine looked to her side to find that the Empress had arrived. Touching hands with her husband as they exchanged sweet smiles, she turned to Jovine with a spark in her eyes.


    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± Jovine greeted happily, her face brightening in the warm presence of the Empress. She reminded her of Richard whenever she saw the same blue eyes and dark, luscious hair, but where the Crown Prince was more aloof and distant, Empress Helene held an air of cordial welcome that made her feel at ease.


    ¡°How are you, my dear?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m faring well, Your Majesty.¡±


    As the doors opened again, Jovine immediately straightened, straining her neck to see who had arrived. When a Palace Maid burst through with more trays of steaming goods, she instantly deflated.


    An amused chuckle escaped from the Empress. Leaning in, she whispered to Jovine, ¡°He¡¯s in the Observatory near the Gardens.¡±


    Jovine¡¯s cheeks flushed. ¡°Your Majesty?¡±


    ¡°Richard. You should go find him. I¡¯m sure he¡¯s waiting for you too.¡±


    At the mention of his name, her heartbeats thundered against her chest. The thought of him waiting had the blood in her veins rushing in anticipation. ¡°Would it really be alright for me to go to him now?¡± Jovine asked in hesitation, looking around at her family and catching the sharp gaze of her mother who tilted her head in curiosity.


    ¡°Go to him,¡± the Empress encouraged, a gentle smile painted on her beautiful face.


    Freeing a sincere grin, Jovine quickly excused herself and headed out the doors of the Drawing Room. She felt a light flutter urging her with unrestrained excitement as she sped through the paths of the Palace. It had only been a few weeks since she last saw him, but her thoughts wandered towards the Crown Prince more and more the longer they were apart. She found herself longing for the time they spent together ¡ª no matter how brief or formal the exchanges had been. She dreamed of his distant smiles and the glint in his deep eyes. She missed him. All the time.


    Jovine stood, breathless, in front of the Imperial Observatory, her heart pounding as her eyes traveled across the soaring structure of silver steel and glass. It was a magnificent sight, with the ending trail of blooming vegetation from the Gardens and the backdrop of glowing stars veiled around the dome. This was the only place in the Empire where the Heavens felt close enough to touch. In a way, it felt fitting to find him here.


    Before entering, Jovine calmed herself by the mirrored glass and scanned her flushed appearance. Hastily patting her hair down from her rush through the wind and wiping her clammy hands on her gown, she took a big breath and settled her racing heart. Jovine opened the heavy, steel door and stepped into the cool air of the inner Observatory.


    The place was scattered with golden instruments, stacks of bookcases lining the walls, and candles emitting a soft yellow glow over the space. Looking around, she searched for the Prince in expectation. When he was nowhere in sight, she climbed the spiraling staircase leading to the open doors of the roof where a large terrace waited. Jovine poked her head around the circular expanse, and as her eyes came across a crossed pair of boots by the edge of the balcony, her pulse jumped.


    There you are.


    Jovine slowly walked around the Observatory dome. Splayed out across the ground with his arms pillowed behind his head and his eyes closed, Crown Prince Richard de Tristaine appeared to be dozing under the stars. A fond smile lifted the corners of her mouth as she quietly stepped closer and looked down at his sleeping form. His sharp face appeared younger and almost at peace in the quiet. His long, muscled form was relaxed languidly with his buttoned shirt rumpled and slightly undone. He looked beautiful.


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    Jovine crouched down, reaching a hand out to brush away the hairs dancing in the breeze. Just as her fingers touched the strands, stark, blue eyes fastened on her. She gasped and fell to her bottom, her hand quickly retreating.


    ¡°Your Highness,¡± she breathed, startled and embarrassed.


    When he saw it was her, Richard eased his tensed body and settled back into a comfortable position. ¡°How did you find me here?¡± he asked, closing his eyes again.


    Jovine swallowed the lump in her throat. Was she intruding? Maybe he wasn¡¯t waiting for her after all. ¡°The Empress¡­she¡­I thought¡­I apologize, Your Highness,¡± she stammered, her spirits falling. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have disturbed you.¡±


    When she stood to leave, his hand shot out and latched onto her wrist. Jovine¡¯s eyes widened, praying he didn¡¯t feel the flutter of her pulse thrashing under his touch.


    ¡°Stay awhile. The stars are the brightest now.¡±


    Speechless, she simply stared back.


    Richard peeked an eye open. ¡°If you¡¯re hesitant to lay down on the ground, there¡¯s a chaise inside with a view through the windows.¡±


    Jovine narrowed her eyes. Seating herself beside his form, she laid back and turned her head towards the stars. The floors were cold and rough, but the vision above her was breathtaking. Richard¡¯s hand left her skin, but the feel of his body next to hers lent a glow of warmth in the chill night.


    ¡°They really do shine bright tonight,¡± Jovine softly said.


    She saw him nod through the corners of her eyes. ¡°It almost feels as if you can touch them, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    Jovine smiled. They were exactly her sentiments. Reaching a hand out, she squinted her eyes and traced a path through the stars. She felt his gaze branded on the side of her face as she continued admiring the sky.


    ¡°What do the stars mean to you, Jovie?¡±


    Her heart soared at the way he said her name. She turned her heated cheeks towards him, looking deep into his thoughtful eyes. Their heads were close together and the proximity heightened the blush stained across her face. Jovine pondered her answer. ¡°My father once told me stars are the lost souls waiting for their loved ones.¡±


    Richard¡¯s lips twitched. ¡°Is that so?¡±


    She looked back at the vault of light. ¡°Death is that much more tragic when someone is left behind. So for the ones who are cursed with the darkness of grief, stars are the consolation ¡ª the hope that they¡¯re up in the Heavens somewhere, waiting and watching.¡± Her father¡¯s words echoed behind each syllable, his saddened face still clear in her mind.


    ¡°Do you agree with him?¡± Richard asked curiously.


    She nodded. ¡°It comforts me enough to hope that it¡¯s true.¡±


    Richard looked deep in thought. ¡°My father says stars are the eyes of an Emperor. As far as the skies go, so should our eyes watching over the people, the cities, the homes and families and¡­¡±


    As his voice trailed off, she knew he felt burdened again. He never spoke of it, but Jovine sensed his fears and troubles. As the heir to a great Empire, how could he not?


    Glancing around the night sky, Jovine searched for a comfort she could offer him. ¡°Your Highness,¡± she gently called, pointing to a star in the sky on the left. Tilting her head closer, she looked up at him. ¡°Do you see that lone star over there?¡±


    Richard¡¯s eyes followed her direction until he sighted the single, bright star dazzling in the night. He inclined his head, slightly frowning at her vagueness. ¡°Yes¡­¡±


    ¡°I read somewhere that most stars roam the Heavens alone. A few lucky ones are born in clusters but many of them wander by themselves. But somewhere along the way,¡± she continued, arcing her finger across until it pointed at a group of stars waiting nearby, ¡°it¡¯s always found by another. It may take a little time, but their paths can meet.¡±


    He looked back down at her. There was a question in his eyes that urged her to continue.


    ¡°The eyes of an Emperor travel a lonely road, but there are others that look over the Empire as well. There are advisors, fathers, mothers, friends. Spouses. All their eyes are blinking together.¡±


    Their gazes were locked, both unwilling to break from the other. Richard¡¯s brows creased further and an obscure expression crossed his face. Jovine feared she misspoke, hating the silence that ensued. ¡°Your Highness¡­¡±


    His hand came up to meet her suspended ones. He clutched her fingers, intertwined them, and brought them to rest between their bodies. He slowly leaned in, their faces inching closer until the scent of his skin touched her nose. Resting on his elbow, he hovered over her still frame.


    ¡°What would you do if I kissed you right now?¡± he murmured quietly.


    A spark of desire pulled at her trembling body. ¡°I would close my eyes and let you,¡± she breathed, her voice so quiet and low it would have been hard to hear had they not been so close together.


    A slow, rogue smile spread across his face. His eyes darkened as he drew closer. Jovine squeezed her eyes shut, her heart hammering against her chest until it felt like her insides would bruise from the force. A soft huff of laughter sounded before Jovine felt a warm kiss at her forehead. She opened her disappointed eyes to a grinning Richard who smirked down at her.


    ¡°You¡¯re not ready to be kissed the way I want to kiss you right now,¡± he whispered playfully. ¡°When you¡¯re ¡ª¡±


    Jovine fisted the collar of his shirt and yanked him down against her mouth. A surprised groan vibrated against her. His mouth was hard and unyielding at first, but it quickly softened until the kiss turned innocent and sweet. A hand cupped her cheek, and while she felt greedy for more, she was hesitant to do anything but follow the rhythm of his lips. When he pulled her bottom lip between his mouth, her hands unconsciously traveled up his powerful arms until they found themselves pulling at his hair. A sound of approval growled out of his throat and the kiss turned feral.


    Richard parted her open, tasting the corners of her mouth until she was lightheaded. When she felt the stroke of his tongue, she gasped into him. He bruised her lips with pressure at the sound until the kiss turned into a wild, wet slide. When she felt his hand spanning the width of her waist and landing dangerously near her bosom, a tingling heat flamed in the pits of her stomach, causing her to clench her thighs and squirm underneath his heavy form.


    Richard broke the twist of their lips and dragged his mouth down the length of her throat. Panting heavily, Jovine yanked his head back up, wanting his lips back on her own. Looking down at her with unfocused eyes, he planted several wet kisses against her, mumbling incoherent words.


    ¡°You¡¯re dangerous,¡± she heard his words bleed through the haze. ¡°¡­scare me.¡±


    Just as their mouths melded together again, Jovine heard a voice that shattered their embrace.


    ¡°Jovine?¡± she heard Easton calling out from under the balcony.


    Instinctively pushing the Prince off her body, Jovine jerked forward with a hand on her swollen lips. When she glanced at Richard with panic in her eyes, she found him breathing hard with a frown on his flushed face.


    ¡°I need to ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Go,¡± he muttered lowly, wiping the glistening evidence off her mouth with the tip of his thumb. ¡°I¡¯ll see you later.¡±


    Nodding in regret, Jovine rushed down the steps of the Observatory and went to find her brother who was bound to disapprove. As Richard watched her flee, he clutched his pounding heart and licked his lips. Jovine Rainer was a dangerous woman ¡ª one who could bring him to ruin. Knowing he wouldn¡¯t be able to hold back if their lips ever touched again, he never allowed himself to kiss her after that night. At least, not until the day of their wedding finally approached.

 Bonus Scene: Wedding Night

    Richard de Tristaine swirled the bitter wine around his mouth as he glared at the men gathered around his wife.


    She looked stunning in a white, lace gown that clung to her curved form. Each movement tempted his eyes to wonder about the flesh hidden underneath. And his ring around her finger made her look that much sweeter. They were officially wed, and as he stood afar, watching all the hot-blooded males salivating after his wife in the Banquet Hall of their celebration, he felt violent.


    Richard¡¯s father was speaking with an Earl beside him, discussing something he had no ounce of interest in. It was clear the Emperor was trying to draw his attention back to the conversation, but he only watched Jovine. He saw her offering a polite smile to a young Lord who was so obviously enamored with her beauty as she thanked him with her mother and brothers at her side. He contemplated going up to the man to punch the shy smile off his face.


    A gentle hand touched his unforgiving grip upon the stem of his glass. Just as he was about to wrench himself away from whoever it was that touched him, his mother¡¯s amused voice stopped his impulse. ¡°Keep staring like that and I¡¯m afraid you¡¯ll burn a hole through every man in this room.¡±


    He took another sip, clenching his jaw when he saw Jovine evading the Lord¡¯s touch with a hidden grimace. He knew she didn¡¯t like to be touched by strangers. ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯retalking about, Mother,¡± he distantly mumbled.


    The Empress turned her son¡¯s face towards her. ¡°I know it scares you to feel. But take a chance this time. She¡¯s good for you.¡±


    Of course she was good for him. Jovine was pure and kind and beautiful. But it couldn¡¯t change his abhorrence to feel something like¡­love. He saw the way his parents loved each other and could even admit how much he cared for them himself, but since he was a young child, he held resentment for the vulnerability that came with the feeling. He could never explain why he was wired in such a twisted way, but he knew, without a doubt, that if he fell in love with his own wife, he¡¯d be damned.


    When he failed to respond to his mother¡¯s remark, she looked towards his bride with a resigned sigh. ¡°If it¡¯s so repelling to need her, make her need you as well. Maybe then you¡¯ll realize the weight of your emotions.¡±


    <hr>


    Jovine fidgeted in the burning heat of her wedding chambers, pulling at a hanging thread on her silk robe. Standing in the middle of a room bathed in firelight, she waited for her husband.


    The day had passed by in a blur. She was married to Richard now, and while the wedding and celebration felt faded and distant, the night she had been waiting for ¡ª and dreading ¡ª awakened her senses until she felt raw and exposed. Her mother and tutors had introduced her to the concept of consummation and what had to take place between a man and his wife on the night of their wedding. Erin had even snuck in a fairly improper book highlighting the acts taken between the sheets. Jovine cupped her flamed cheeks just thinking about the lewd things she had read.


    The Crown Prince was a striking man. She had to be blind not to notice the way every lady in the room watched him with lust in their eyes. He was strong and powerful and gorgeous. And the kiss they had shared that one night under the stars¡­


    She could still feel the foreign desire that had overtaken her. It raced through her veins like an addiction she didn¡¯t know how to sate. He never kissed her again after that night. The soft brush of their lips upon the altar when they married was the only other time his lips met hers. If that one touch ignited her, what would the night bring?


    Her troubling insecurity preyed on her endlessly. Richard had seemed displeased with something throughout the celebration. Even as he asked her for a dance, he looked impatient and cold. Would her husband find her desirable enough to take her? Jovine tightened her hold on the small box in her hands. If he held back his kisses because he didn¡¯t want her ¡ª


    The creaking door startled her out of her thoughts. Swiveling her head around, she saw her husband closing the door behind him with a guarded look on his face.


    She swallowed.


    As his eyes traveled down her robed body, his nostrils flared but he stayed silent.


    ¡°Your Highness,¡± she greeted, willing her nerves to calm.


    ¡°Richard,¡± he corrected, walking deeper into the room. ¡°Call me by my name.¡±


    Her breath caught as he walked closer, but instead of stopping before her, he passed her and went to a nearby dresser. ¡°Richard,¡± she murmured to herself, tasting the name on her lips. There was a dark tension in the room with them, and for the life of her, she could not figure out where her husband stood. Was he unhappy with her? Was he nervous? Why wasn¡¯t he looking at her?


    With his back turned, Richard started unclasping the buckles holding his uniformed suit. ¡°Many eyes were on you tonight,¡± he continued in a deceptively calm tone.


    She tilted her head in confusion. It was their wedding day. Many eyes were on the both of them. But for some reason, it didn¡¯t seem like he was speaking of that kind of attention. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t understand.¡±


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    Richard finally turned to her as he slipped out of his suit jacket. ¡°Every man in the room was looking at my wife.¡±


    She knitted her eyebrows. Was he¡­jealous?


    The heavy coat dropped to the floor with a thud and he slowly walked over to her with a dangerous look engraved in his dark blue eyes.


    ¡°It drove me crazy all night,¡± he uttered under his breath, running his hands up her arms. They settled around her neck as he leaned in close. ¡°You drive me crazy.¡±


    ¡°I could say the same about you,¡± she whispered, clutching the box in her hands like a lifeline.


    Richard turned his face away, but from the frame of his mouth, she could tell he was holding back a smile. A spark of hope lighted in her fluttering heart. When he turned back to her with his lips pressed together, his eyes caught on the crumpled black parcel she was gripping. He flicked curious eyes up at her. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡±


    Jovine released a shaky breath, looking down at the humble gift she had prepared for him. It had taken her many sleepless nights to finish it, the ache in her fingers and exhaustion in her eyes accounting for the effort that went into her token of love. ¡°It¡¯s not much,¡± she started timidly, worried he wouldn¡¯t care for something so trivial. ¡°But it¡¯s for you.¡± She extended it towards him with a blush painted across her face.


    Richard gently took the box in his hands and opened it to find a neatly embroidered handkerchief. Wordlessly taking it out, he examined the dark blue cloth and the intricate yellow threads expertly woven around the edges. His lips parted.


    ¡°The blue fabric reminded me of your eyes, and the yellow roses¡­¡± Her voice trailed off.


    Those cold eyes of his softened as he ran his fingers across the flowers. ¡°The Hill on the Summer Palace,¡± Richard softly muttered, looking up at her with the first real smile she saw from him that night. ¡°The day I proposed.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± she breathed, completely enchanted by the affection on his face as he remembered the day. ¡°Do you¡­like it?¡±


    Richard surged into her, taking her face into his hands and pressing a hard kiss against her mouth. He pecked her all over the face, making her giggle from his enthusiasm. ¡°I love it,¡± he whispered between each kiss, nuzzling his nose against hers. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Jovine wrapped her arms around his shoulders, finally breathing easy. Richard tucked the cloth into his pockets and ran his hands over her waist, making her shudder when they traveled lower upon her rear. ¡°You dangerous woman,¡± he muttered under his breath. She¡¯d heard him say that to her once before.


    ¡°You¡¯re the dangerous one,¡± she whispered back, dragging her fingers through his hair.


    Her husband chuckled darkly, pressing into her. When she felt his arousal, her eyes widened. ¡°Tonight, yes. I plan on being very dangerous,¡± he purred into her ear.


    The sweet moment evaporated into one that heated her stomach and caused her breaths to escape in heavier rhythms. Her nerves returned with a vengeance as Richard walked her backwards towards the large bed in the center of the room. When her thighs bumped against the edge, Richard leaned back, looking down at her with glazed eyes. He slowly untied her robe until a sheer nightgown was revealed. She heard him suck in a sharp breath. A rush of satisfaction warmed her insides at the sound. She had picked it out, thinking of this very moment.


    Held by thin straps, black lace cupped her breasts and a transparent fabric flowed down over her naked body. It showed the shadows of her curves and from the way her husband¡¯s eyes raked over her with a look of pure hunger, it did exactly what it meant to. It teased him shamelessly.


    As Richard traced the shape of her body with his hands, Jovine sought the courage to bring her fingers to the buttons of his vest. Nervously unfastening each one, she wasn¡¯t sure if her lungs were taking in any air. When her hands trembled too harshly to do the same for his shirt, Richard grasped her fingers.


    ¡°Let me,¡± he gently whispered. Taking over, he deftly unbuttoned his tunic and threw it across the room. Jovine¡¯s lips parted as she watched his chiseled, golden body flex under the flickering candlelight. Richard was always a large man with his towering height and broad shoulders, but seeing the glory of his bare skin with every indentation of hard muscle had her licking her lips in wonder.


    ¡°If you keep looking at me like that, I might just take a bite out of you,¡± he warned, crowding into her.


    Was it wrong that she didn¡¯t hate the idea? Richard turned them around and seated himself on the edge of the bed. Pulling at her thighs, he guided her to straddle his hips. She held back a whimper when the friction of his pants rubbed against a very intimate part of her flesh.


    She touched his hot skin and allowed herself to take her fill of his beautiful body. When her fingers ran across his abdomen, she felt him tense. Just as she reached the top of his pants, Jovine froze from sudden panic.


    Richard lifted her chin. ¡°Look at me. Just look at me, and I¡¯ll lead you.¡±


    She nodded, placing her hands on his chest instead. As they looked deep into each other¡¯s eyes, intimacy bloomed into a connection she never thought was possible with the cold Prince. His eyes looked at her in gentle adoration as he moved a finger underneath the strap of her nightgown. She gasped when he dragged it down her shoulder. Richard smiled at her reaction.


    He guided her hips with his other hand, moving her in rhythmic strokes above him. Pleasure sparked in her veins and lust fogged her mind. Feeling braver, Jovine unclasped the clip holding her nightgown together at the front. She felt him twitch as the fabric parted, exposing her breasts and the extent of her bare body.


    ¡°You¡¯re so beautiful,¡± he breathed, his large hand fondling her flesh. ¡°So beautiful it hurts to look at you sometimes.¡±


    As he kissed her most intimate parts and discarded every piece of clothing separating them, the night bled into a dance of passion and ecstasy. When they were finally joined and moving against each other in furious tempo, there were times when he held back. He would curse to himself as he tried to restrain his urge to ravish her body. But each time, Jovine kissed him harder, urged him further, and moaned into his mouth as he took her without abandon.


    And as their consummation was completed in the dead of night, he never stopped seeking her warmth. Their bodies were tangled in the sheets together as exhaustion found them, and when she woke again, he would enter her with a sly smile and kiss her deep into the early morning.


    It was the start of their bliss and pleasure, and while it didn¡¯t last forever, the promise of hope was sweet enough for a time where Jovine and Richard were happy and content.


    If only it had last...


    If only you didn¡¯t betray me¡­


    Where would we be now?

 Three Days

    Jovine woke with a frown.


    Snapping her head to the side, she half-expected to find him laying beside her, spent and sweaty from the images still trapped in her mind. To her great relief, all she found was Erin sprawled out on her back, softly snoring and drooling away in her sleep.


    Dragging a hand down her haggard face, she cursed her dreams. For the past three days, her nights were haunted with memories. Whenever sleep had claimed her, she found herself back in love and in bliss with the husband she now hated. The worst part was waking up with the echos of happiness, only to remember the reality of her scorn.


    ¡°Look at me. Just look at me, and I¡¯ll lead you.¡±


    ¡°You only see me. You have always only looked at me.¡±


    Richard¡¯s words rang in her mind. Two different times. Two different men who spoke to her ¡ª a husband she loved and an enemy she loathed.


    It was hard to admit, but he was right. She had only ever looked at him. Stars, yellow roses, chocolate sweets, warm candlelight, marble fountains, steel domes. So many aspects of her memories and paths were intertwined with the very man who formed and broke her heart.


    Why do you have to haunt me, even in my dreams?


    She needed to get out.


    Jovine tucked the thrown blankets around Erin. The last couple nights, she had insisted on staying, and although Jovine despised becoming a burden, she was grateful for the company. Falling asleep to the familiar tone of her snores and the haphazard way she always took up all the space on the bed reminded Jovine of their childhood. They had often stayed up, giggling through the night when they were younger, and it eased the weight of her heavy heart to recover a piece of the simplicity and innocence she had felt back then. She brushed away the hairs stuck to Erin¡¯s drooling mouth, grateful and full of guilt.


    Wrapping herself in a velvet coat, Jovine ventured out of the Palace. As soon as the icy air burst into her face, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The feeling of suffocation soon departed and her head cleared from the remnants of the dream she was eager to forget. Jovine burrowed her hands into the fur-lined pockets of her coat and mindlessly walked through the Palace grounds.


    Life had changed since she awakened in the past. Her duties remained as an Empress, but she was no longer a heartbroken wife who desperately sought her husband¡¯s attention. She no longer lingered by his offices, sent requests for his audience, or matched his daily schedules to run into him by chance. She no longer waited in the Dining Halls at every meal, hoping he would show up at least once to dine with her. In fact, she hadn¡¯t faced him or Emilia since their last encounter. It should have brought her some semblance of peace, but Jovine was as restless as ever.


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    She filled her days poring over historical texts or the hidden map she still couldn¡¯t decipher. And nothing was brought to light. This maddening chase the late Empress seemed to be sending her on had no end, and Jovine sometimes feared she¡¯d lose her mind by the end of it.


    And her letter remained unanswered. Three days had come and gone without a single reply and it unsettled her. Perhaps she shouldn¡¯t have written it at all. Expecting anything from it was her first mistake.


    Jovine sighed, a stream of vapors puffing out into the cold night. She wrapped her arms across her chest to chase away the frosted chill and when she finally realized the trail of her path, her feet had already taken her to a spot she had been frequenting more often than not. She stared up at the quaint little chapel. It was an old stone building with wooden fixtures and kaleidoscopic murals etched into the glass windows. Built hundreds of years ago by Emperor Thomas de Tristaine, it was meant to offer a space for those who searched for peace and prayer. Things Jovine looked for these days.


    As the years passed, not as many members of the Imperial Family or even the Palace servants came around the area. It was settled on the outskirts of the Palace and shrouded by a path of overgrown willow trees and a running pond, so the space was always quiet and empty enough for Jovine to rest in the silence. She found it comforting, sitting on the hardwood pews as she closed her eyes and basked in the fractured, colored sunlight streaming through the vibrant windows. She would sometimes try praying, speaking to a divine God she believed existed but never truly pursued.


    When her father brought her along to a church in their town as a young girl, she had once heard the minister speak of a love that never faded. In the face of her brokenness, the idea was as appealing as ever. A higher being who was above the corruption humans always fell for and one who would be steadfast in love and forgiveness. It was healing thinking something like that could exist.


    So Jovine whispered the truth of her broken heart in the secrecy of the empty chapel and prayed her quest for vengeance wouldn¡¯t cost her a soul she didn¡¯t want to lose. If she was already without a heart, she couldn¡¯t bear to forfeit anything else.


    Jovine briskly walked through the path of willows, yearning for the heat she¡¯d find indoors and a moment to recollect her scattered thoughts. Just as she ascended the stone steps, a harsh gust of wind almost knocked her back and a piercing whistle from the breeze rang in her ears. Jovine¡¯s heart picked up, startled from her near fall, but it was also from a strange sense of something unknown that sank the pit of her stomach.


    When she reached out to open the doors, a voice in her head told her to turn back.


    Unease bled into her senses but so did a dangerous dose of reckless bravery.


    She opened the door and stepped through the threshold.


    Zing.


    The glint of a blurred knife flew through the air, whisking so close to her skin she felt the cold steel. In one blink, it was embedded right by her ear and into the doorsill.


    The moment came and passed so abruptly she barely had a chance to flinch. Instead, her body locked up until every muscle was strained and the breath she was holding choked her airway. All was frozen except her eyes, which traveled up to the parchment stabbed into the knife. Her letter.


    A dark, hooded figure emerged from the standing columns. The glint of a scarred, hidden face and his light hair briefly appeared under the moonlight shining through the open doorway but then he was back in the shadows again. His height was small and a few inches shorter than where she stood, but the magnitude of his aura overwhelmed his small stature.


    The man himself was fear incarnate.


    One flick of his wrist and a match sparked in the dark. He whipped his hood off, and Jovine met his green eyes.


    "Hello, Vinnie," he smirked.


    ¡°Hello, brother.¡±

 Elias Rainer

    Elias Rainer.


    First-born son of the Marquess. Discarded Rainer heir.


    A lost man.


    And her eldest brother.


    Jovine¡¯s eyes traveled across the harsh scar marring the left side of his face, and the sting of tears threatened to spill. He had grown out his hair to hide the old wound, and it only reminded her of the time she let slip away. She believed she was prepared, but as she watched the familiar tilt of his mischief glimmering under the wavering candle flame, her heart broke.


    He quirked a brow at her silence, but she didn¡¯t know where to start. Too many words balanced on the tip of her tongue and yet nothing seemed good enough.


    How have you been? Are you eating properly? Don¡¯t you hate me?


    ¡°When did you arrive?¡± It was pathetic, but it was the only sentence she could manage to say.


    He leaned against the column. ¡°Three days ago.¡±


    Of course he had.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been a fool, Vinnie,¡± he continued, his eyes hollow. ¡°An utter fool.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    At her candid response, he tilted his head, surveying her from afar. She had no arguments against his observation.


    Jovine glanced at the dagger by her head. ¡°Was the knife really necessary?¡±


    ¡°You know my penchant for flair. Don¡¯t blame my resentful excitement that you only called me now.¡±


    ¡°Lias ¡ª¡±


    ¡°You should have called me that night.¡±


    Jovine swallowed the lump in her throat, instantly speechless.


    Elias pushed himself off the column and paced, looking around the small chapel. ¡°I was even there. Did you know?¡±


    She didn¡¯t.


    ¡°I watched from the shadows. My baby sister crowned as the Empress.¡± He expansively gestured with his arms in a pose of victory. ¡°What a night it could have been!¡±


    Jovine dug her nails into the palm of her hands, focusing on the pain instead of the urge to cry or scream.


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    ¡°But then your snake of a husband tainted it with his¡­distasteful carnality.¡± The glint of another knife flashed into the palm of his hands as he expertly twirled it around his fingers. ¡°I should have slit his throat right then for you.¡±


    Elias turned a manic look towards her frozen form at the door. ¡°Well, better late than never, isn¡¯t that right Vinnie? So who should I kill first? The snake? Or his whore?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she blurted out, breathless and panicked by the wild look in his crazed eyes.


    His movements stopped too suddenly. Half-shrouded in the dark, fear sliced through her constricted chest.


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± she said in a small voice. ¡°I should have called for you sooner. But not for those reasons. I should have called you because you¡¯re my brother. Because I missed you.¡±


    ¡°You foolish girl,¡± he muttered under his breath, looking away from her.


    ¡°I can¡¯t seem to stop making the same mistakes,¡± she continued, her voice growing in strength. Keeping her eyes on the back of his head, she pulled the knife from the wall and caught the fluttering piece of paper. ¡°Once again, I¡¯ve called you for the wrong reasons.¡±


    Hoping her body remembered better than her hesitant recollection of memories, she hurled the dagger through the air and watched it arc across the space. Just as it neared his skull and alarmraced through her veins when she thought he would miss it, Elias turned and caught the handle with a purely deranged smile.


    She had his attention now. He was no longer drowning in the dark thoughts she knew would have pulled him under.


    ¡°Your aim is strong,¡± he chuckled, looking at her with renewed glee.


    Despite her trembles, her lips twitched. ¡°If I recall, I had a brother who insisted on teaching me how to wield a blade instead of throwing pebbles with me by the lake.¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t all be as dreadfully dull as Easton, now can we?¡±


    Jovine huffed out a reluctant laugh. Her second brother, Easton, was a kind man who would throw pebbles with her when they were young. But she couldn¡¯t deny that the thrill was always absent when Elias wasn¡¯t there.


    He was the only one who could truly understand her. The only one who would stand with her in the dark.


    They were both disappointments. He was the one with a mind too broken to inherit his right as the future Marquess. She was the second-born child who failed to be the son her mother wanted as a replacement. Together, they were both unwanted.


    As the humor wafted away, she stared into his eyes. ¡°I called you for help,¡± she admitted. ¡°Will you help me, Lias?¡±


    Elias sucked in his cheeks. Disapproval raged behind his eyes, but so did a distant look of pity. He disappeared behind the columns and appeared again with a bundle in his hands. Flinging it across to her, she caught it with a frown. Old, ragged clothes, a size too big for her, settled in her arms.


    ¡°Get dressed,¡± he said, moving around the building as he searched the walls.


    ¡°W-why?¡± she asked in bewilderment.


    Elias turned to her with an impassive face. ¡°Your letter held a list of concerns that ran on for miles. Might as well start with one of them, no?¡±


    Jovine looked around, still stunned. ¡°Now?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± he stated blankly, going back to his strange wall inspections.


    When she didn¡¯t move, he turned to her with narrowed eyes. ¡°Get dressed. Close that wretched door behind you. And let¡¯s get going.¡±


    Her eyes wide and perplexed, Jovine went to shut the heavy wooden door. As soon as it slammed shut, she heard a winded creak coming from the other side. She whipped around to find her brother heaving open a hidden door behind a dense, decorated tapestry.


    ¡°W-what¡­How ¡ª¡±


    ¡°A story for another day,¡± he mumbled breathlessly.


    ¡°Where are we going, Elias?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re going out,¡± he said blandly, dusting his hands off.


    ¡°To where?¡±


    Elias looked back with a wicked smirk.


    ¡°To be rebels.¡±

 Its a game

    A separate world existed within the late night streets of Theolos. It was one that thrived in the darkest parts of the Empire and blinded its spectators with the untamed nature of incivility.


    Lights and clamor from rowdy taverns, dirty words and lecherous moans echoing from brothels, bodies of drunken men slamming into her shoulder as they walked past with lewd words ¡ª Jovine writhed in discomfort as she closely followed behind Elias.


    Disguised as a lowly boy, she fidgeted in the itchy clothes he had loaned her. She had always been slightly taller than her brother, who unusually stopped growing at the age of 13, but his muscled form had filled out enough to drown her slight frame. Her hair was tucked into an oversized, loopy hat and a wide tunic was stuffed into his scratchy, tweed jacket.


    Every single aspect of their venture was tainted in unpleasant infliction.


    The force of her ignorance was clearer than it had ever been. As an Empress, her understanding of the Empire should have been unclouded, yet the tarnished state of these streets were distressing. Broken glass and debris littered the roads. Violent fights raged in every corner. Frail bodies hungered in dark alleyways. Lust and intoxicated danger permeated the air.


    Just how far had she neglected her own Empire?


    Jovine swept her eyes to Elias, expecting to find him just as concerned, but his demeanor looked almost¡­free. In the darkness of the chapel and throughout their journey down a hidden path she was still baffled to know existed, he was distant and obscure. Yet, on the wild streets of Theolos, he seemed pleased.


    Instead of shrouding his scar with the strands of his hair, he boasted it proudly, leaving his golden locks tied at his nape. His posture lightened, his steps eased, and his eyes glinted in mischief.It made her wonder about his life after he had left the family.


    Jovine hesitantly reached out to grab his arm when a sultry woman with smudged lips and spilling cleavage slammed into his body, taking his face into her hands and sticking her tongue down his throat. Her mouth dropping open, Jovine looked away with a harsh blush.


    ¡°Not tonight, Lettie,¡± Elias chuckled, swatting her rear with a wink. ¡°I¡¯ve got a guest with me.¡± He looked back at Jovine with a delinquent smile.


    The woman whined her regret but quickly moved onto another man by the lamppost, eager to lure him into the nearest pleasure house. Biting her inner cheeks, Jovine looked high up into the sky, unwilling to relate any vulgar thoughts to her brother.


    Elias swung his arm around her neck and tugged her into his side as he continued walking. He pinched her nose playfully until they scrunched up in irritation. ¡°Your face looks like a tomato, Vinnie.¡±


    ¡°Shut it,¡± she grumbled, refusing to keep contact with his amused eyes.


    He sniffed into the air and started whistling a tune, throwing dirty looks every now and again at the drunkards who brushed against their bodies. To relieve the awkward air and the pit of trepidation simmering in her gut, Jovine turned her attention to the carts wheeled onto the streets.


    Many sold small trinkets and vials of what smelled like alcohol and potent tonics, but an old woman behind a wooden wagon laid out gems and bottles of what she called out to be ¡°Amulets and Love Potions!¡±


    Jovine pulled on Elias¡¯s sleeve. ¡°Lias,¡± she whispered, finally looking up at him. ¡°Tell me what you know about magic.¡±


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    The twitch of his brows was the only indication of his stagger. ¡°I know as much as you do.¡±


    To her great disappointment, that was all he said.


    ¡°It¡¯s back in the Empire,¡± she baited, scrutinizing every inch of his face. He didn¡¯t loose a single reaction.


    ¡°Lias ¡ª¡±


    A hard body slammed into her side, and when she looked around in alarm, a hooded man shoved a cold object into the palm of her hands. With that, the figure disappeared into the crowd. Jovine snapped her head back to her brother, opening her mouth to sputter her agitation, but he shot a warning glance at her.


    ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± Elias muttered under his breath, leading her towards the entrance of a dimly lit tavern. ¡°Don¡¯t say another word.¡±


    Opening the chiming door, he released his hold over her shoulders and walked into the quiet space. Jovine kept her head down, drowning in the painful thuds of her racing heart as she clutched her hands over what seemed to be a metal coin.


    In contrast to the boisterous crowd in the other pubs, small groups of people were softly chattering as they threw back drinks and munched on bowls of peeled nuts. The tavern was quaint and sparsely decorated with wooden tables and a bar at the front where a burly man with a tattooed face wiped down the countertop.


    Elias held up two fingers to the man, and gestured for her to sit at a table in the furthest corner. She seated herself without a thought and stayed, frozen, waiting until Elias returned with two glasses of frothing liquid. As soon as he was back in front of her, Jovine threw a scathing glare a her brother, fed up with his secrecy.


    ¡°You better start talking now, Elias Rainer.¡±


    He raised a brow, sipping his drink in leisure. Smacking his lips loudly, he opened his palm for her. Sitting on it was a small, silver coin with a serpent engraved into the head. ¡°Open your palm.¡±


    Jovine relaxed her fist and released a similar coin on the table before them. This one was gold with a familiar flower engraved into the center. Her brows folded. ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± she murmured.


    Elias leaned across the table, his green eyes piercing into her skull. ¡°Where did I say we¡¯d be going?¡± he asked.


    ¡°To be rebels.¡±


    ¡°Yes. And did you see them?¡±


    Was he referring to the strange man who had put the coin into her hand? She was far from understanding his cryptic words. ¡°Did I?¡± she asked with narrowed eyes, on the verge of throwing her drink in his smug little face.


    ¡°You did,¡± he smirked. ¡°Look around you, Vinnie. What do you see?¡±


    She glanced around at the abnormal serenity and the absolute nothingness that existed in the unremarkable tavern. ¡°There¡¯s nothing amiss.¡±


    ¡°Yes. Because the rebellion is everywhere. The rebels are everywhere. They exist in the dark, out in the open where everyone, yet no one, can find them. They¡¯re unseen and perfectly blended into every corner.¡± Elias deftly balanced the two coins on his fingers. ¡°In utmost secrecy, they wager and gamble at the fate of the Empire.¡± He flicked them up into the air and caught them as they fell. ¡°Two houses. Two powerful men. Politics is simply a house of cards.¡±


    Elias slammed the coins onto the table and pointed at the engravings. ¡°You recognize these seals?¡±


    When she swiveled her eyes to each familiar mark, clarity punched into her chest. ¡°Lord Ballio,¡± she muttered, looking at the serpent. ¡°And Grand Duke Vel Feyras,¡± she whispered in disbelief, recognizing the distinct Columbine Flower. ¡°Two men, waging for the throne?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a game, Vinnie.¡±


    Jovine looked up at him with wide eyes.


    ¡°Your very own people treat the lives of Royals as pawns. Underground, they place bets on the winning House and support their desired contender,¡± Elias said in a vacant voice.


    She swallowed, looking around at the people who practically blended into the walls. Rebels were everywhere. Elias couldn¡¯t find everywhere. She wouldn¡¯t find everywhere. Unless¡­


    ¡°It¡¯s a game, Vinnie,¡± he repeated. ¡°You¡¯re either a player or a piece. So what will it be? Will you play? Or be played?¡±


    Jovine stared into her brother¡¯s eyes, wishing he would just give her a clear answer, but she knew it wasn¡¯t as simple as that. The Empire was in shambles. That much was clear. Her people now played a match of politics.


    What was her answer?


    Play? Or be played?


    As her head spiraled in a fragmented mess, her eyes were drawn to the sound of the chiming bell. She watched as an elderly, hooded man with dark eyes and a long, graying beard entered the tavern. As soon as their eyes met, the man froze in terror, his eyes widening. Slamming the door, he bolted out in a rush before Jovine could comprehend the act.


    Then the startling realization punctured her haze.


    ¡°Elias,¡± she trembled out, panicked and afraid.


    Her brother saw the fright in her eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been recognized.¡±

 I See It All (Part I)

    A shadow darkened over her brother¡¯s features.


    ¡°Take a sip of your drink.¡±


    Jovine blinked at him, baffled by his direction. ¡°Did you hear what I said?¡±


    His sharp eyes trained on her fiercely. ¡°Do as I say.¡±


    Unable to shake the image of the way that man had looked at her, Jovine lifted the cold glass with unsteady hands. It was unfathomable to think anyone could recognize her. Not only was she in disguise, but it had been a momentary glance with someone she had never met. It was beyond comprehension to believe such a short glimpse could lead to recognition.


    She took a sip, staring at Elias with wide eyes. Choking down the iced, bitter liquid, her throat burned from the acid taste. She released a flurry of coughs as her eyes watered from the harsh aftertaste.


    Elias clicked his tongue in disapproval and swiped the coins from the wooden table. ¡°Stand tall, walk slowly, and follow me.¡±


    Without giving her a moment to react, Elias fluidly rose as he tipped the rest of the acrid ale down his throat. He slammed the glass down and moved towards the back without looking her way. Startled, Jovine abruptly stood and shifted to scramble after her brother when she recalled his instruction.


    Panic would give her away.


    Clenching her jaw, Jovine straightened her shoulders. Digging her toes into her worn-out shoes, she took measured steps. Her eyes were solely centered on Elias¡¯s head as he calmly led her through a door nestled in the furthest corner of the tavern. Jovine held her breath until a gust of stale air puffed into her face.


    Elias finally turned to her in a shadowed, littered alleyway. ¡°Who recognized you?¡±


    ¡°I-I don¡¯t know,¡± she muttered.


    ¡°Describe it for me, then,¡± he snapped.


    ¡°It was a man. Old. Graying beard. Large frame,¡± she detailed from her shaky memory. He had left too swiftly for her to gauge anything else.


    Strangely, her brother¡¯s grim expression cleared. ¡°I see.¡±


    ¡°Lias, no one should have recognized me, but I swear ¡ª¡±


    He grasped her elbow and swiveled his eyes through the streets ahead. ¡°We need to get back.¡±


    ¡°Who was he? Do you know him?¡±


    ¡°The night is getting deeper. It¡¯s best to move now.¡±


    Frustration simmered deep in her chest until it boiled up to the surface. Jovine wrenched her arm away. ¡°ELIAS.¡±


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    He met her fuming eyes with distant surprise.


    ¡°I am tired of your vague explanations and half-truths,¡± she gritted out. ¡°You¡¯re hiding something from me. You¡¯re not telling me a damn thing about anything! You say we¡¯re leaving to be rebels. I get some far-fetched tale of political coins and a gamble for the throne. You bring me to a city so far gone. And not a single word or reaction from you. I tell you I¡¯ve been recognized, and you act as if it¡¯s nothing. What games are you tangling me in?¡±


    Elias tilted his head, looking at her with vacant eyes. ¡°You always choose the most inconvenient times to come out and play.¡±


    Jovine¡¯s breaths stuttered out in rage. ¡°Don''t jest with me ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Empress Jovine de Tristaine,¡± he enunciated firmly. ¡°As the name states, you are an Empress of this Empire. You cannot tell me you are that dull to miss the point of all this." He advanced on her slowly. "How long will you keep closing your eyes? How long will you remain weak and ignorant?¡±


    Remorse and a lethal hit of self-loathing pierced her. Lips trembling, she whispered, ¡°Why do you think I¡¯m doing all this? Do you think I don¡¯t know how pathetic and despicable I¡¯ve been? Do you think I don¡¯t see how much I¡¯ve let myself go? I see it all. I see myself, and I hate the woman who stares back.¡±


    A tick fluttered in his jaw as he allowed her dejected words to dwell in silence.


    ¡°It¡¯s why I need help. It¡¯s why I called you.¡±


    His eyes softened for a breath. ¡°Words aren¡¯t enough when you can see it for yourself,¡± he said quietly. He took her hand and pulled her along until she followed. ¡°Trust me, Vinnie. My infuriating habits would fail to tell you what you need to know.¡±


    Regretting her outburst, Jovine stuck to her brother¡¯s side as he led her through crowds of bodies still lingering in the dimming streets.


    ¡°The man who recognized you,¡± Elias mentioned as they passed the last open shop and traveled into a quieter, more familiar part of town. ¡°If I¡¯m not mistaken, he won¡¯t pose a danger. It¡¯s unusual he would know you by a glance, but you¡¯re safe, Vinnie. When the time comes, I¡¯ll tell it all to you.¡±


    Elias ushered her through a trek too rapid for her to give a proper response. When he finally slowed his steps, she realized they were closer to the Capital and surrounded by buildings she knew. Piece by piece, a sliver of her brother¡¯s intent shone through.


    A direct explanation wasn¡¯t needed ¡ª the plight was clear enough to her.


    The cities and towns were lined in unmatched hierarchy. From the Capital to the rural lands and hidden slums, the ghastly differing conditions were solely based on wealth. As they traveled through the Empire and into the deepest parts, her people were seemingly abandoned and left with scraps while the Palace and the Capital basked in abundant comfort and luxury. It was repulsive to witness the contrast. The towering houses of gold, the cleaned streets, even the scent of the air screamed in prosperity.


    The people were right to resent and hate. The truth was explicit enough to cut her.


    As her mind spiraled into darker thoughts, Elias stopped in a town that was close to her heart. It was the Haven ¡ª a city established long ago by the late Emperor and his vision to look after the broken and lost. Orphanages, shelters, centers for food distribution, counsel for those in need ¡ª it was a place of second chances and one of the shining lights in the Empire. The late Emperor and Empress had great plans to expand its reach, and Richard had exceptional purpose to carry on his parent¡¯s legacy.


    But the sight before her shredded every matter of her being.


    ¡°Do you see, Jovine?¡± her brother whispered.


    She saw it all.


    Broken wooden posts that used to host free meals for the hungry. Shattered windows that used to distribute clothes and food to those shivering in the frost. Trashed buildings that used to boast loud, screaming children running around in glee.


    Everything was caved in. And destroyed.


    What have you done?


    Richard, what sins have you hidden from me?

 I See It All (Part II)

    Jovine crumpled to the ground, her knees withering from the shock.


    Elias caught her with ease.


    ¡°H-haven,¡± she whispered in mortification. Jovine clutched her brother¡¯s arm with an iron grip. ¡°W-what have they done to it?¡±


    She felt his hard glance branding the side of her face. ¡°You tell me.¡±


    Trembling, Jovine slowly turned to him in anger. ¡°Are you implying I was a part of this?¡±


    ¡°I suspected it.¡± Elias curled his lips in deranged entertainment. ¡°But you really didn¡¯t know.¡±


    Jovine shoved him away, anger bubbling in her veins. ¡°WHAT. HAPPENED. HERE?¡±


    ¡°Look around, darling sister. I think you can figure it out.¡±


    It was marked and unmistakeable.


    Amid the scattered debris, renovation arrangements were embedded in the loss. As if someone had broken Haven just to piece her together into something unknowable.


    Haven had been sold. And placed into the profit pockets of a noble.


    ¡°Where are the children? The families?¡± she whispered.


    ¡°Most likely sold. Or indentured.¡±


    Jovine closed her eyes, reigning in the insurmountable wave of guilt and despair. ¡°Who?¡± she seethed, her eyes traveling through the crumbling bricks and wooden shards. Who did this? Who now owned the place that belonged to the people?


    ¡°Harrison Ballio.¡±


    She froze, her eyes shooting open. ¡°Harrison Ballio is a powerless Lord.¡±


    Elias scoffed. ¡°He¡¯s a Baron now. With an elevated status and the Emperor¡¯s favor, you can imagine how simple it was to obtain a place like this.¡±


    No¡­


    A faint recollection of her Coronation suddenly came to mind.


    ¡°Emperor¡¯s favor¡­¡± Jovine¡¯s words trailed off, unable to admit what she already speculated.


    Elias grasped her arm again, turning her to face him. She met his stormy eyes. ¡°Who do you think Harrison Ballio brought to the Capital all those months ago?¡±


    She bit her inner cheeks.


    ¡°Who do you think brought Emilia Syrene?¡± he sneered, his fingers digging into her arm.


    The sight of her brother¡¯s distress overcame her initial shock. His body quivered violently. The once-familiar look of his savage blood-thirst shined through his glazed eyes. Jovine grasped his shoulder, ignoring the burning pain from his strengthening grip.


    ¡°Elias,¡± she called gently.


    When a twisted smirk lifted the sides of his face, panic surged through her veins. If she lost him to his shadowed mind, she didn¡¯t know when he¡¯d be back again.


    ¡°Elias. Don¡¯t give in to it.¡±


    His face dropped. His eyes cleared. Pushing her away, he swiftly turned. Jovine watched his shoulders heave in harsh, panting breaths as he brought his dagger out. A low grunt sounded before he faced her again with a bleeding palm.


    Her heart shattered. She wanted to rush to him and embrace away the darkness he always felt. But he¡¯d refuse her. He always had.


    Casually wiping his hand against his trousers, he blankly asked, ¡°Do you recall it now?¡±


    Jovine clenched her jaw. She did.


    On the night of her Coronation, when she had danced with Richard, Lord Ballio had proposed a gift. A singer. Emilia Syrene.


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    Elias continued. ¡°Think about it, Vinnie. The man who introduced that wretched girl to the Capital is now a Baron with Haven under his hands and his seal on the coins wagering for the Throne. Under what circumstance would an Emperor allow such foolish treachery?¡±


    Jovine shook her head. It didn¡¯t make sense. No matter how enamored Richard was, she couldn¡¯t believe a man who always guarded his feelings would allow them to overtake his authority. His pride itself wouldn¡¯t allow such privilege for a Lord he barely tolerated.


    ¡°Your weakness remains in that small part of you that still believes he¡¯ll come back,¡± Elias said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t ¡ª¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t even know it, but you still want to save him. Deep down, where your secrets are buried and for reasons I truly cannot fathom, you still love him. Stop ruining yourself, Jovine. If you refuse to strike, it¡¯ll be you buried in the dirt. If you won¡¯t see blood, they¡¯ll leave you to die in your own puddle.¡±


    Jovine choked on her breaths. She had lived it already. Had died at Emilia¡¯s hands and bled out as her husband held the woman who ended her.


    Was there no longer a line for her to cross? Was Elias right?


    ¡°I won¡¯t kill,¡± Jovine muttered.


    ¡°Jovine ¡ª¡±


    She stared him down. ¡°There are worse things than death.¡±


    His eyes twitched.


    ¡°Death is too quick. Too final. Too merciful. I want their pain to go beyond something so simple. I don¡¯t want physical ruin. I want absolute torment. Their mind, their emotions, their spirit ¡ª I want to rip it all away. You of all people should know just how frightful such a fate is.¡±


    A purely malicious, delighted smile spread across her brother¡¯s face.


    Jovine extended her hand. ¡°Give me the coins.¡±


    He threw them for her into the air. Catching them, she looked down at the two seals. The petals of the Columbine Flower blinked up at her in gold.


    ¡°Amon Vel Feyras,¡± she started. ¡°How active is he in this wager?¡±


    Elias raised a brow. ¡°From what I¡¯ve gathered, the Grand Duke has declined any role or action in his name. He¡¯s kept himself away from it all.¡±


    ¡°But people are still flocking to him?¡±


    ¡°They believe he¡¯s worth something more than he¡¯s letting on. And I suspect he¡¯s made his first move.¡±


    ¡°Move?¡±


    He scoffed. ¡°Every refusal was backed with his imminent departure from the Capital. Yet, he¡¯s decided to stay for reasons unknown.¡±


    Jovine swallowed. The glint in Amon Vel Feyras¡¯s eyes when they bid farewell touched her mind. ¡°I see.¡±


    ¡°Why do you ask?¡± Elias ventured.


    He wanted to know her path. And although she had settled her resolve, a lingering sense of insistence pulled at her strings.


    Jovine looked back at Haven, fury climbing up her throat until she had to swallow back the bile. ¡°Give me until morning,¡± she told Elias. ¡°I have one last thing to confirm.¡±


    <hr>


    Emperor Richard de Tristaine squinted against the glaring sunlight and the sharp call of birds twittering outside his chamber windows. Clutching the cup of coffee a maid had left on his desk, he slowly sipped on the steaming, bitter liquid as he leaned back on his chaise. When a trickle of his drink seeped down his chin and onto his suit lapels, he cursed under his breath.


    Reaching into his inner pockets, his fingers dug for his handkerchief. When nothing caught in his grasp, the irritating fact reminded him again.


    He had given it to Jovine. For the wound he found himself wondering about, he had wrapped a piece of cloth that should have meant nothing.


    Yet he found it strangely empty to be apart from it.


    He was sure Jovine would have used it as an excuse to come see him. In fact, he¡¯d been looking forward to that timid smile she always gave him when she happened upon his path. Because he knew she always waited for even a glimpse of his face.


    But Jovine never came.


    Four days, and nothing from his wife.


    Richard had received all news of the Inner Palace through written reports instead of her physical presence, and when he had even shown at the meals she always attended, Jovine wasn¡¯t there.


    Pride stopped him from marching over to demand why she was acting like a stranger. Jovine was different. The way she looked at him no longer held affection. Instead, it overflowed in venom and hate.


    Richard loosened the buttons of his tunic, surprisingly feeling strangled from the thought.


    He told himself it was an act she was putting on to gain his interest. He convinced himself the only reason he wanted to see her was to get that damned handkerchief back.


    But the unpleasant twist in his gut told him something he couldn¡¯t understand yet.


    Thoughts of his wife plagued him as they had been for the past few days, when Lord Maximus entered his chambers with his head bowed.


    Richard glanced at the man. ¡°You¡¯re late.¡±


    ¡°My apologies, Your Majesty.¡±


    Richard looked away, attempting to bask in the morning peace before Maximus piled him with papers he didn¡¯t want to look over.


    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± Maximus called.


    ¡°Not now.¡±


    ¡°The Empress is here to see you.¡±


    Richard straightened, swiftly turning around. ¡°The Empress?¡±


    ¡°Yes, she has requested an audience with you.¡±


    Richard smirked in triumph. He knew she would eventually give in. ¡°Let her in.¡±


    He settled back comfortably, picking up a random book to appear disinterested. But at the sound of her clicking heels and the sight of her swaying hips, his eyes traveled up her blue satin gown in appreciation.


    ¡°What is it, Jovine?¡± he asked in a particularly bland tone as he flipped through the pages.


    She stopped at his desk, and before he could look into that lovely face of hers, a dense collection of Imperial Records slammed onto the wooden surface. Flinching back from the force, Richard glanced up into the fuming eyes of his wife.


    ¡°You scoundrel,¡± she spat in rage. ¡°What have you done?¡±

 One Last Chance

    His smug air of victory vanished.


    ¡°What is the meaning of this?¡± Richard asked darkly, scanning the bound records.


    Jovine clenched her teeth, thinking of all the horrid accounts she had read from the files she forced out of a sleep-disheveled Maximus in the dead of night. ¡°As if it wasn¡¯t enough to be a faithless lecher¡­you¡¯ve become a thief as well.¡±


    Richard''s brows twitched, a quirk she always knew preceded his temper. ¡°Careful, Jovine. You would be wise to stop there.¡±


    A hysterical laugh lodged at the base of her throat. She could have burst out in mania right then and there. Jovine slammed another folder in front of him. ¡°Haven ¡ª sold.¡± Another file. ¡°Reports of famine ¡ª ignored.¡± Another stack pummeled forcefully onto her husband¡¯s desk. ¡°Counterfeit expenditures from the Imperial Inventory ¡ª hidden.¡± One after the other, Jovine listed out every source of corruption. ¡°Payments to nobles. Shortage of food. Unaccounted market cornering. Increasing indentured servants. Bartered properties.¡±


    By the end, Jovine¡¯s breaths came out in harsh staggers. ¡°You have truly gone and made yourself a crook.¡±


    ¡°Stop,¡± Richard gritted out.


    ¡°Do you see what you¡¯ve done to this Empire?¡± Jovine seethed, her voice rising in fury. ¡°You¡¯ve left it to rot. You¡¯ve abandoned your people. You¡¯ve ¡ª¡±


    ¡°STOP IT,¡± Richard bellowed, striking his fists against the wooden table until the horde of his transgressions cluttered to the ground. He stood, leaning over the desk until his fuming eyes met her fire. By the look on his face, she had now crossed a line she never toed, but Jovine would not back down. Not this time.


    With their faces inches apart, she whispered in a scathing tone, ¡°Your stars have extinguished.¡±


    Taken aback by her tangent words, he frowned. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°¡®My father says stars are the eyes of an Emperor,¡± Jovine began. ¡°¡®As far as the skies go, so should our eyes watching over the people. The cities. The homes and families.¡¯¡± She echoed the words he had once spoken to her in the past. The words his father had said to him.


    As if she physically struck him, he abruptly withdrew and turned his back to her. All she saw were his swelling shoulders.


    Jovine straightened. ¡°


    dare you?¡±


    you?¡± she challenged.


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    am the Empire. What difference is there?¡±


    your food. Your home. Your money. Your clothing. Your dignity. Your protection. If you are the Empire, you should suffer as they do.¡±


    you are not the nobles gorging on their wealth. They are not the ones reaping from your negligence. The families in the streets, the impoverished slums you¡¯ve forsaken, they are the ones who need you more than anyone. And, yet, you¡¯ve deserted them. Why? WHY?¡±


    One last judgment, and it¡¯ll all be over.


    I don¡¯t need you,¡± he gritted out in a shaky voice. ¡°I don¡¯t need your ignorance or your sympathy.¡±


    ¡°Just because you can¡¯t understand it doesn¡¯t mean you can move me.¡±


    dead.¡±


    will come to regret this,¡± she simmered. ¡°And when that day comes¡­I won¡¯t be there to pull you out.¡±


    I have to leave.


    this time.

 Get Out

    Emilia Syrene burst through the Emperor¡¯s door.


    The room was scattered with broken bottles and potent liquid, a counter tipped over and papers trailing all over the floor. It looked as if a brawl had broken out.


    Or a passionate tumble.


    Slowly, Emilia turned to the slumped form of the Emperor with wide, crazed eyes. Sitting in a puddle of liquor, with his head bowed and his arms resting limply against his bent knees, his face was hidden from her. Uncontrollable delusions shook her whole body.


    ¡°W-what happened in here?¡± she bit out in an unsteady voice.


    Richard¡¯s head remained lowered and unresponsive.


    Fisting her hands, a sharp sting of bitter insecurity burned through her veins.


    ¡°What did you do?¡± she accused, charging through the room towards the rumpled bed. Any sense of logic would have explained that it was still early in the morning to account for the unmade sheets or even the clear indication that only a single side of the comforter was slept on. But all Emilia could see was the flush that had painted Jovine¡¯s face. Her tousled locks, unfastened gown, smeared lips, heaving breaths. No amount of reason could rid of that image.


    Emilia overturned the heavy sheets, frantically searching for any sign that Jovine had laid here. She searched every corner of the room, as if a confirmation would be written in the walls.


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    You¡¯ve lost him.


    A wind of manic frenzy took over her small frame. ¡°WHAT DID YOU DO WITH HER?!¡± she shrieked, raging through the room until all that was left to dissect was the Emperor himself.


    Emilia threw herself down before him. The very fact that he had no words to offer or explanations to placate her petrified spirits struck a blow to her chest.


    This doesn¡¯t make sense. He¡¯s mine. He can¡¯t leave me.


    Wildly running her hands across his body, she examined his clothes. No piece was undone or carelessly put together. She harshly grasped his face, eyes running over every inch of skin to find that damn rouge she saw smudged across his Empress¡¯s lips. Nothing met her gaze except for his clean, golden skin.


    Just as a brief relief of doubt settled her nerves, she noticed Richard squeezing his eyes shut as if he were in pain. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you?¡± she asked in a high pitch. ¡°Richard?¡±


    Wrenching himself away from her touch, he blindly shoved her away. Emilia¡¯s lips parted in shock as she watched him cradle his head with trembling hands.


    ¡°Get out,¡± he gritted out in a low voice.


    She froze.


    Reaching out a hesitant hand, she touched his arm to find him shivering. ¡°R-Richard¡­what¡¯s wrong?¡±


    When he released a painful groan, she clutched his face again, tilting his glued eyes up to her panicked face. ¡°Richard, look at me,¡± she urged in a manic voice. ¡°Look at me!¡±


    Slowly opening his eyes, he muttered, ¡°Get out.¡±


    Emilia watched in horror as the glazed, hazy gleam in his eyes stared back at her in hollow measures.


    ¡°Richard, how long ¡ª¡±


    ¡°MAXIMUS,¡± he bellowed, knocking her touch off his skin. He massaged his temples with an aggravated frown. As soon as Lord Maximus rushed into the room, he ordered, ¡°Escort her out. I need a moment alone.¡±


    No¡­


    As she was pulled away, a taste of real fear tainted her tongue.


    Her grip was slipping.


    But, how¡­

 Goodbye, my love

    Tossing the small, rusted shovel to the side, Jovine impulsively used her fingers to claw at the dirt. She could practically hear the scolding she¡¯d get from Erin for soiling her hands so carelessly, but an impatient thrum of energy hummed through her veins.


    Jovine sat in the Imperial Cemetery, near the headstones lined with the bodies of past monarchs and decades of Tristaine rule. From the corner of her eye, she could still see the small bouquet of wildflowers she had placed on Empress Helene¡¯s headstone just a few days ago.


    When the shallow crater sufficed her intent, Jovine dusted her hands and released a heavy sigh. Spreading her left hand, she stared at the elegant band encircling her fourth finger. Her wedding ring ¡ª a symbol that vowed a life of commitment and love to a man who no longer existed. In the past, it had acted as an emblem of hope. Whenever she saw the matching ring still placed on her husband¡¯s finger, it used to quiet a fraction of her heartbreak. The thought that they still belonged to each other, no matter how much he had strayed, used to call out that this wasn¡¯t the end.


    But, the end was here.


    And she needed to say goodbye.


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    Slowly pulling the ring off her finger, Jovine placed it in the shallow hole. She covered it with the remnant dirt and placed a single, yellow rose to mark the place.


    A small, self-conscious laugh puffed out her lips. It did seem a little silly ¡ª the lengths she was going to leave her husband behind. But burying him was the only way to move forward without a hint of wavering doubt. The only way to bring down a tyrant. Because she was burying the man she loved, the man who never returned after he left her all those months ago.


    Jovine stood, looking down at the yellow rose with a sad smile. A part of her strangled chest eased when the work was done. The way she saw it, it was unfair to condemn a man she couldn¡¯t seem to separate from the one who stood in his chambers now.


    This man was a husband who held her in his arms, kissed her brow in the mornings, and took walks with her in the Gardens. He was one who snuck her chocolates by the fountain, smiled against her cheek, and whispered sweet words in her ear. The stars they kissed under, the nights they had shared in bliss, the hill of yellow roses she adored him in. The endearing frown of concern, his burdened shoulders that only wanted good for his Empire, the dimple in his left cheek when his kindness shone through. The way he held her hand, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles to calm her rampant mind. The rumble in his chest when he laughed and held her tightly, seeming as if he never wanted to let go. Jovine bid farewell to them all.


    ¡°Goodbye, my love.¡±


    Her sweet whisper trailed away with the gentle breeze, departing as her love did.

 About Damn Time

    Jovine entered her chambers to find a brightly pink-faced Erin hiccuping as she avoided the arrogant smirk Elias was shooting at her from across the room. As soon as Erin spotted her, she shot up out of her seat and scurried over to her side. Without a word, Erin placed herself firmly behind Jovine¡¯s body with a relieved sigh.


    Jovine glanced back at Elias, her eyes narrowing when he casually sauntered over to the tea set Erin must have prepared for him. As he plopped himself down in the emptied seat and picked up a dainty teacup, she asked, ¡°What did you say to her?¡±


    Elias turned wide, innocent eyes towards her, blinking as if he was above such reproach. ¡°Me?¡± he pointed to himself with a clueless glint. He raised his hands in surrender. ¡°I¡¯ve been nothing but a saint.¡±


    ¡°Oh, really?¡± Jovine glanced back at Erin with a raised brow.


    From the looks of it, she looked more embarrassed and flustered than offended. Knowing how crude and teasing Elias could be, it would have worried Jovine to have brought him so suddenly, but Erin gave her an awkward smile in return. Jovine couldn¡¯t help the small sliver of amusement. Elias could be painfully blunt and jarring, but Erin¡¯s no-nonsense sweetness would tantalize the man.


    ¡°Well, don¡¯t go around troubling her,¡± she said, walking toward her room with Erin trailing right behind.


    ¡°Am I troubling you, Erin?¡± Elias asked with a smile in his voice.


    Erin came to a stop, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to find an answer.


    ¡°Elias,¡± Jovine sent her brother a warning glance.


    He simply laughed into his cup.


    As she entered her private chambers to undress, Erin hurried to help her.


    ¡°Lord Elias meant no harm. I was only mortified to wake up in his presence this morning. You know how much I drool in my sleep¡­I probably looked like a wet potato.¡±


    Jovine chuckled. In her whirlwind mission since the break of dawn, she had asked Elias to wait for her as she hunted down those wretched records. With Erin still asleep in her bed, she could imagine the shock. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for bringing him here so suddenly. But, you do not look like a wet potato. In fact, I think my brother finds you quite adorable.¡±


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    Erin gasped in disagreement. ¡°Your Majesty, do not jest like that. The man terrifies me.¡±


    Jovine couldn¡¯t argue. Elias Rainer was a man of many talents and tragedy. He was far from being malicious or cruel, but scars ran deep within her forsaken brother. ¡°He¡¯s here to help me,¡± she explained.


    ¡°I know, Your Majesty. I¡¯m not ¡ª" Erin gasped again. This time in disapproval. ¡°Is this dirt underneath your fingernails!?¡±


    She gave a hearty laugh. Here came the scolding she expected.


    For the next few minutes, as Jovine dressed herself in riding breeches and a loose tunic, Erin never stopped scolding in that endearing way she always did. ¡°Do you know how worried I was this morning? You are an Empress, Your Majesty. You cannot go around so carelessly! And don¡¯t even get me started on the dirt.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Erin,¡± Jovine chuckled, patting her lightly on the arm when she finished buttoning her boots.


    Erin¡¯s little rant came to a stop. ¡°Pardon?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t remember the last time I felt like laughing.¡±


    Erin¡¯s mouth fell open. ¡°Your Majesty! This is not a matter to laugh about!¡±


    ¡°Even so, thank you. For your concern and your friendship.¡± Jovine gently grasped her hands in gratitude.


    Erin squeezed her fingers in support and gave her a slightly vexed laugh. ¡°Well, now I can¡¯t go on with you talking like that.¡± She picked up the old, ragged coat Elias had disguised her in the night before and helped her put it on with a look of unease. ¡°I know you¡¯re more than capable of whatever path you are to travel. But, please, Your Majesty. Be careful.¡±


    Jovine nodded with a sad smile. She wanted to tell her everything, but she was now embarking on a perilous road. She¡¯d have to be wary of how to proceed. Tying her hair back, Jovine walked back out to the drawing room, where Elias was languidly sipping on his tea with a sharp gleam shining in his eyes when he noticed her attire.


    ¡°So,¡± he started. ¡°What¡¯s your verdict?¡±


    Time ¡ª until morning ¡ª was what she had asked. To affirm and decide. And now, a choice she thought would be difficult came so easily. Jovine reached into the pocket of her borrowed coat and threw the small metal coin into the air. When he effortlessly caught it with his fingers, the question he asked her rang in her mind.


    Will you play? Or be played?


    ¡°I¡¯ll play.¡±


    Elias shot his gaze from the face of the coin to her determined eyes. A wicked smile lifted the corners of his mouth. ¡°About damn time.¡±


    ¡°Do you know where he is?¡±


    Defiance flashed across her brother¡¯s face. ¡°Who?¡±


    He knew exactly who she was talking about, but he would make her say it.


    Jovine lifted her chin. There was no turning back now.


    ¡°Amon vel Feyras.¡±

 A Man With Silver Hair

    Taking in the modest, unassuming inn, Jovine frowned as she noticed the rotting wood and the overgrown vines climbing across the stone steps.


    ¡°Are you sure this is the place?¡±


    Elias craned his neck, his sights settling on something in the back. ¡°Yes,¡± he muttered absently.


    Her frown deepened. Located on the outskirts of the Capital, it was close enough to the Palace but far from the comforts of luxury. Instead of the golden structures boasting heavily jeweled interiors with extravagant suites and high-class amenities, this building seemed more like a single-home cottage that hadn¡¯t been tended to for several months.


    This was no place for a noble and far from being an adequate, standard host for someone as highly regarded as the Grand Duke. Jovine told her brother as much, but Elias ignored her reservations and took hold of her elbow, guiding her away from the entrance. They stopped before an elevated wooden fence surrounding the small inn.


    ¡°But, the entryway is ¡ª¡±


    Before Jovine could finish, Elias hurled himself over the gate in one fluid swing.


    ¡°Elias!¡± she hissed, her mouth gaping open as she whipped her head around, hoping no one just saw her brother trespassing.


    From the lengthy height of the fence, she couldn¡¯t sight her brother¡¯s face. Exasperation raced to the balls of her feet, her mind racing indecisively on whether she should attempt to jump over or plan all the ways she¡¯d pummel her brother¡¯s face when she saw him again.


    As if he could hear her grumbling, the fence squeaked open to her brother¡¯s smirk. Jovine shot her hand out, trying to pull him back out. ¡°There is a perfectly fine door at the front,¡± she whispered.


    ¡°You worry too much, Vinnie,¡± he smoothly said, evading her touch and walking into what looked like the building¡¯s courtyard. ¡°If you keep frowning like that, you¡¯ll get wrinkles.¡±


    Jovine¡¯s eyes widened as she watched him casually stroll into private property. Debating whether or not she should follow, her instincts took over when a passing man on the road looked over at her frozen form in curiosity. Darting through the gate, Jovine slammed the fence shut and met her brother under a large oak tree planted in the middle of the fairly open garden. With rows of growing vegetables lining the exterior and wooden sheds nestled beneath a stairwell leading up to the inn, the large stretch of land seemed grander than the building itself.


    ¡°Lias, you can¡¯t just intrude into someone¡¯s courtyard,¡± she said under her breath, placing her body behind the tree¡¯s large trunk.


    Elias looked down at his watch. ¡°My bad,¡± he murmured in a distracted voice.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go back out and enter in a normal fashion like rational people. I just need a moment with him.¡±


    A small smile quirked his lips, his eyes finally leaving the ticking hands on his watch. ¡°I¡¯m giving you something better.¡±


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    ¡°What?¡± Jovine asked, not liking the mischief in his tone.


    The distant chatter of voices caught her attention. Her panicked eyes flew to the wooden door above the stairs. She cursed under her breath, turning to her brother and intent on dragging him out by force if she had to, but her mouth dropped open when all she saw was air.


    Did he just leave her?


    That little rascal ¡ª


    ¡°Oh! At least let me help with the small ones!¡± The raspy voice of an older woman clearly rang as the back door grinded open.


    Jovine plastered her body to the tree, praying no one wandered to the opposite side of her poorly chosen hideaway.


    ¡°It¡¯s really no trouble at all, Madam.¡±


    Jovine straightened. That voice¡­she knew it. Lowering her hood and staying hidden in the darkened shade, she peeked past the tree, and the sight before her muddled her expectations.


    A stout woman with graying curls framed around a warm face limped her way to the shed, her sun-kissed complexion beaming in gratitude. And trailing behind her was a man with silver hair. Loosely drifting along with the wind, the long, shimmery lengths fell across the broad shoulders of a man wearing a half-buttoned tunic that teased hints of muscled, golden skin and mud-stained black pants rolled up to his working calves. He balanced three large sacks on his shoulders as his corded forearms held them against his body with ease.


    Jovine blinked.


    Golden eyes, silver hair, rich voice ¡ª she knew who this was. And yet, she didn¡¯t.


    The Grand Duke she had met was always powerfully composed, his hair artfully tied back and his attire perfectly pressed and adorned. He was playful and dangerously flirtatious at times, but nothing like the boyish smile that glinted in the sunlight right now. Without all the fancy embellishments, he looked younger and comfortably common.


    ¡°Thank you, dear. You really didn¡¯t have to,¡± the woman said bashfully, arranging the clutter in the shed as he easily placed the heavy sacks on the floor.


    ¡°It¡¯s really my pleasure. I¡¯m always glad to help.¡±


    ¡°Oh, my! Look at you withering in this heat.¡± The woman frantically waved her hands at the wet droplets staining his shirt into a sheer film that plastered itself to the lines of naked muscle moving underneath the fabric. With his back turned, Jovine got a full glimpse of his strength.


    ¡°I do admit, I¡¯m not used to the temperatures here,¡± he admitted with a smile in his voice.


    ¡°Well, you wait right here and cool off. I¡¯ll bring you a glass of lemon ale. Ronnie just squeezed a fresh batch this morning!¡±


    He chuckled. ¡°I won¡¯t refuse one of Ronnie¡¯s concoctions.¡±


    ¡°Splendid,¡± the woman clapped, scurrying as fast as she could into the inn.


    Jovine shot back behind the tree. He was alone now, and she was unsure how to proceed. She had come all this way to meet the man, but now that the moment approached, she didn¡¯t know how to start. Here she was, disguised and hiding suspiciously as she watched him like a spying weasel. She couldn¡¯t even begin to explain herself.


    Despite all reasoning, her curiosity had her peeking out again.


    Arranging the newly stacked sacks, he grunted as he continued working. She didn¡¯t know how long she observed his efforts until he finally exited the shed with a clap of his dusted hands and sweat pasting his long hair to his face. Squinting up at the sun, he ran his long fingers through his silver locks and abruptly ripped his tunic off his body.


    Jovine gulped, her eyes automatically averting from the flash of bare skin. Even from her periphery, she noticed that Amon vel Feyras must be an extremely active man. He was certainly blessed with cords of hardened muscle etched into every crevice of his skin. Her face burning, she settled herself firmly behind the trunk.


    The sound of footsteps neared the tree, and her body locked up when his tired sigh resonated opposite from her where she stood. From the way his boots scratched against the wood, she guessed he was leaning on the trunk to rest.


    Crap. How did she approach him? Should she even try? Damn you, Elias. I swear, when you get back ¡ª


    ¡°You¡¯re terrible at hiding yourself back there.¡±


    She choked on her breath.


    The breeze carried his amusement to her pounding eardrums. ¡°You might as well come out now.¡±

 Amon vel Feyras (Part I)

    Amon vel Feyras shrugged his tunic back onto his shoulders.


    Amusement twitched his tips. He had spotted a flash of his shadower¡¯s cloak, sweeping beneath the hidden shade when he caught them sneaking a peak of his unglorified strip. The soft breeze carried over a small sigh of resignation from his mystery shadow, and it widened his smirk.


    A lean, hooded body slowly stepped out. The crunching leaves crinkled beneath their leather-clad boots, and although he remained relaxed, with his foot resting on the trunk and his hands settled comfortably in his pockets, he tensed when he heard the metal click of their hood unclasping.


    His sights settled firmly on the ground, he wondered which of his constant pursuers were here to implore him. The kids down the street who loved to spar with jagged sticks? Or was it one of those wretched ¡°supporters¡± who urged him to join their pointless game.


    ¡°Grand Duke Amon.¡±


    His pulse jumped into his throat.


    Whipping his head around, his eyes clashed with those deep turquoise depths he swore would haunt him to his grave one day.


    Uncharacteristically stumbling, he straightened. ¡°Your Majesty?¡±


    ¡°Surprised to see me?¡± she asked lightly.


    Yes.


    But the word never sounded. Instead, his stare burned into her face.


    Jovine de Tristaine could blind a man with her beauty. Even now, with her golden hair knotted at her nape and cloaked in common attire, she was stunning. He doubted she knew how many miserable bastards lusted after their own Empress. Or the smug arrogance the Emperor boasted to have such a woman on his arm ¡ª one who was as breathtaking and exquisite as she was, who only had eyes for him.


    It maddened him to lengths he didn¡¯t want to explore.


    Jovine raised her brows, the growing silence stretching on longer than he intended.


    ¡°You¡¯re definitely the last person I expected to see,¡± he finally answered. His eyes trailed down to her loose tunic and those taut black riding breeches that stuck to her skin like a torturous paste, outlining her splendidly long legs. ¡°Dressed like this,¡± he added in a voice that sounded too strained. ¡°And shadowing me behind a tree,¡± he finished with a tilt to his lips.


    Heat crept into her cheeks, and he marveled at the sight.


    ¡°You should know it wasn¡¯t my intention to shadow you. And I¡¯d say we¡¯re both a little surprised and¡­underdressed.¡± She momentarily glanced at his bare chest.


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    The idea of her blushing at his naked body was a heady rush. Smoothly rebuttoning his shirt, he smiled. ¡°My apologies.¡± Though he was far from feeling sorry.


    She gave a stiff nod.


    ¡°So, what brings you here, Your Majesty?¡±


    Jovine lifted her chin. ¡°I came to see you.¡±


    ¡°Is that so?¡± For all his bold composure, there was an underlying thread of unease squirming beneath his skin. The thought of her coming all this way to see him would have gladdened him like no other. But many people were coming to see him these days. For reasons he spurned and motives meant to goad him into action. Would she be the same?


    ¡°Spend the day with me,¡± she suddenly voiced, her lovely face difficult to read.


    His blood rushed through his veins, startling his nerves. Amon masked his bewilderment with a crooked grin. She was as unapologetically straightforward as they came. ¡°You sure know how to make a man speechless.¡±


    ¡°Is that a yes?¡±


    As if he could ever deny her.


    Before he could answer, the sound of Mrs. Rifter¡¯s uneven footsteps echoed behind him. ¡°Hold that thought,¡± he muttered, gently grasping her wrist and pulling her behind his body. She was small enough to hide.


    She sharply inhaled. ¡°W-wha¡ª¡±


    ¡°Dear goodness, forgive me for the delay,¡± Mrs. Rifter¡¯s husky voice called out, her hands balancing a tray of dried meats and lemon ale as she emerged from the wooden door.


    He felt Jovine¡¯s fluttering pulse thrumming against his palm. Amon tightened his grip, hoping to settle her nerves.


    ¡°Mrs. Rifter,¡± he intervened with a grateful smile. ¡°Would it be alright to drink that glass of ale inside? I¡¯d love to get out of this heat.¡±


    About to hobble down the stairs, Mrs. Rifter looked up, slightly relieved and curious. ¡°Yes, of course! Would you like something heartier to eat as well?¡±


    ¡°You''re gracious for the offer, but I have a prior engagement to attend to. I¡¯ll be in and out today.¡±


    ¡°Alright, then. Hurry on inside!¡± Giving him a toothy grin, she limped back through the doors.


    A few seconds passed before Jovine slipped her wrist out of his grip ¡ª an absence that felt too cold in his empty hands.


    He turned to face her. ¡°Let me grab a change of clothes, and we can get out of here.¡±


    She nodded, her steps already distancing herself away from the heat of his body and closer to the trunk of the tree. Just as he moved to leave, he hesitated and looked into her unreadable gaze. ¡°Don¡¯t go anywhere.¡±


    The first glint of a faint smile traced across her lips. ¡°I¡¯ll be right here. Hiding behind a tree.¡± A small incredulous laugh escaped as she pondered the absurdity of the situation.


    God, she was beautiful when she smiled.


    ¡°Good.¡± Unable to hide his elation, he practically sprinted back into the cottage.


    Rushing through the small, cramped space, he inhaled the tangy ale Mrs. Rifter laid out on the dining table, thanked his benevolent host, and bolted up the stairs with a mind-numbing brain freeze. Changing out of his mud-stained slacks and sweat-stained shirt, he was still buttoning everything up as he stumbled down the stairs to Mrs. Rifter¡¯s widened gaze.


    ¡°What¡¯s got you in such a hurry?!¡± she asked, watching him trying to balance on unsteady feet as he shoved his feet into his boots.


    He gave her a wide grin. ¡°I¡¯ve got someone waiting for me.¡±


    Before she could probe any further, he whisked out the back door and staggered down the wobbly stairs. At the sound of his haste, Jovine peeked out from her hideout.


    ¡°I¡¯m impressed,¡± she chuckled, stepping out when she noticed his panting breaths. ¡°I¡¯ve never met someone as eagerly ready as you.¡±


    Amon offered her his arm. She had no idea just how eager he was for her.

 Amon vel Feyras (Part II)

    ¡°Oh, this is too much!¡±


    Taking the warm bundle of syrup bread from the lady¡¯s weathered hands, Amon gave a generous handful of gold coins. With two young children clinging to her side ¡ª both sucking their thumbs and staring at him with wide, hungry eyes ¡ª the mother of two beamed with abundant relief and hesitation.


    ¡°It¡¯s well-deserved,¡± Amon simply said.


    She accepted her payment with parted lips. As he quickly bid the small family farewell, Jovine watched it all with soft eyes.


    For a good hour, they had roamed the nearest town market. Crowded with hustling bodies and tireless vendors, it was overwhelming to hear the desperate shouts of families bartering or feeling the tension that permeated the air. But, Amon had firmly led her through the commotion, and she had seen the compassion he undeniably held.


    Looking down at the countless sacks of varied goods he held from struggling peddlers they encountered, she recalled his gentle generosity. Whether it showed from his familiarity with the townspeople or his determination to offer as much of his support as he could, it was as if he couldn¡¯t bear to not scratch the surface.From stale sweets to rusted accessories, it was apparent he couldn¡¯t help himself when he was pulled to relieve a bit of the pain that festered in the Empire. Without needing a single word, Jovine got a glimpse into the character of who Amon vel Feyras was. Or who he showed himself as.


    From her faded memories and the blurred encounters she could barely muster, all that had remained when she thought of the Grand Duke was a man that exuded power, danger, and strength. He was a reckless flirt and shamelessly cryptic, as if he was always looking for a reaction. But in that courtyard of his humble lodge, with his hair loose and all formalities forgotten, Amon vel Feyras was¡­a surprise.


    He was easy, with a disarming nature that made her defenses falter. Even now, as he handed her a wrapped portion of sweet bread, he had an effortless smile. Along with the way his ears turned red from the heat or his constant shifting eyes, it was almost endearing. Stripped of all their pretenses and decorum, it felt far from a conventional meeting between an Empress and her Grand Duke.


    If she was different and fate had been simpler, she could imagine Amon vel Feyras as the boy next door. Someone who chased her through the forests when they were young or a friend she could walk to the markets with everyday, as they were doing right now. She could see him as comfort. And warmth.


    If things were different, she could have just been a girl with a man that had silver hair.


    ¡°Do I have something on my face?¡± His voice splintered her mindless wander.


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    ¡°Pardon?¡±


    He chuckled as he gently grasped her elbow to help her evade a group of men passing by. ¡°You¡¯re looking at me strangely.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± She looked away, embarrassed. ¡°My apologies. I didn¡¯t mean to.¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯d like, we can stop somewhere more settled and you can look at me as much as you want.¡±


    There he went again. Shamelessly teasing her. ¡°There¡¯s no need for that.¡±


    He hummed in feigned disappointment, and she smiled.


    Looking at her untouched bread, he continued, ¡°You must be hungry. I know it¡¯s not much, but it tastes quite good.¡±


    Jovine peered down at the small circular bread drowned in sticky syrup. From the way she had been distancing herself to watch him, it most likely seemed like the whole ordeal was beneath her. As if her people¡¯s destitution couldn¡¯t touch her air of regality. She couldn¡¯t blame him if he saw her as just another ignorant noble or an Empress who valued the taste of the seven-course meals her Palace Chef forged than a modest morsel of her people¡¯s labor.


    But, she had wanted to see who he was. Without any charades or manipulation, without the cold calculation the Emperor had weaponized to blind her, she needed to see him. Just as he was. Without interference that could inspire false kindness to impress her. Yet, her distance could be misunderstood.


    Taking a sizable bite of her portion, she ardently chewed. She noticed chunks of potatoes snuck into the mixture to make the batter thicker ¡ª indications of how most families were resorting to cheaper staples ¡ª and a bitter sense of guilt accompanied the sweet taste as she swallowed.


    ¡°It¡¯s delicious,¡± she said, looking at the Grand Duke with a subtle smile.


    Amon looked pleased as he took a chunk of his own portion.


    ¡°Is this how you imagined it?¡± he asked as they ambled through a quieter part of town. ¡°A day with me dragging you all over town,¡± he added with a smile in his voice. But, Jovine heard the confusion.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she simply answered. ¡°It would have made better sense for me to show you, but it seems you know the cities better than I do, Grand Duke Amon.¡±


    ¡°Amon,¡± he corrected. ¡°I ask for your familiarity, Your Majesty.¡±


    Jovine raised her brows. It was against Imperial Protocol to drop formalities. Yet, what was she doing here? Everything she meant to come out of this day was treachery against the Crown. ¡°Only if you¡¯ll call me Jovine,¡± she countered.


    ¡°Agreed,¡± he smirked. ¡°Jovine.¡±


    ¡°My goodness, you¡¯re bold,¡± she chuckled, unable to hold back her amusement.


    ¡°I¡¯d say we¡¯re on a very productive track. By the end of today, we might very well part as friends.¡±


    ¡°Is that what you¡¯d like? For us to be friends.¡±


    ¡°Absolutely,¡± he replied immediately, as if the answer was obvious. ¡°Hiding behind trees, journeying through markets¡­wouldn¡¯t you say we¡¯re quite there already?¡±


    Jovine sucked in her cheeks, looking towards the radiant sun and attempting to hold back a smile when she heard the tease in his tone. ¡°Very well, Amon,¡± she conceded.


    I hope you¡¯ll feel the same by the end of all this.


    ¡°Then are you open to another venture with me?¡±


    Jovine glanced at him. Those golden eyes of his were lit up in gratification, and a hint of mischief touched his lips. If there¡¯s one thing she found, it was that Amon vel Feyras was an easy man to like.


    Jovine nodded.

 Amon vel Feyras (Part III)

    With a satisfied smile, he led through the town square and towards an overgrown forest that smelled of rain and warm sunshine. Carefully navigating the uneven terrain and the scattering small animals that fled from their footsteps, they walked in silence, though it was a comfortable one that gave her the chance to appreciate the scent of nature and the peace that followed.


    How long had it been since she traveled past the sheltered Gardens in the Palace?


    She couldn''t imagine it could compare to the raw beauty of what was before her now.


    As the air chilled, the sound of rushing water echoed in her ears. Jovine¡¯s lips parted as they passed a block of trees that unveiled a towering waterfall.


    ¡°Oh my,¡± she breathed, walking slowly into the large expanse.


    ¡°Breathtaking, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Taking in the evergreens crawling across large boulders settled in crystal waters and the colossal shower of bubbling water, Jovine gazed in awe. ¡°I had no idea there was a place like this here.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a little hidden but cherished by the townspeople,¡± he said, taking her elbow and guiding her through a rough patch of moss.


    When they reached a fairly smooth pebbled strip, Amon placed his sacks of market goods on the ground as Jovine removed her cloak. Spreading it across the surface to act as a cover from the small rocks, Jovine looked up to find Amon rubbing his jaw with a perplexed look.


    ¡°You beat me to it. Are you being chivalrous for me, Jovine?¡±


    ¡°Oh, please,¡± she said as she promptly seated herself on her cloak. ¡°No need to be so moved.¡±


    His deep chuckle rumbled through the air as he brought over an array of treats he had purchased from the market vendors. Spanning from chocolate sweets to salted dried meats, he gestured at her to take her fill. He took a seat beside her and grabbed a handful of nuts from a small paper container. Out of habit, she took the first sweet thing she could find ¡ª a small roll of candied fruit to accompany the syrup bread she still held in her hands.


    It was the most peaceful she had felt in a long while, munching on simple snacks against a backdrop of sparkling water and endless trees. When she imagined how her encounter would have gone with the Grand Duke, it was nothing like the reality of it now. In fact, the ease and familiarity she felt with him was unforeseen.


    ¡°So, Amon,¡± she started, his name still a little foreign on her tongue. ¡°What¡¯s your story?¡±


    He raised a brow. ¡°My story?¡±


    ¡°Well, we¡¯re on our way to being friends, yet I don¡¯t know much about you.¡±


    ¡°I suppose you¡¯re right,¡± he admitted. ¡°But, the same goes for you.¡±


    ¡°A story for another then. If you tell me yours, I¡¯ll tell you mine,¡± she bargained.


    Amon chuckled, stretching his long legs out in front as he turned to her. ¡°Alright, where should I start?¡±


    Jovine swallowed the last of her bread and pondered if her questions would be too personal or invasive. But, her curiosity of the Feyras name was something that existed since her first studies. ¡°It¡¯s been long years since the Feyras Family was present in the Capital and at Court, so there¡¯s a lot of mystery surrounding the name.¡±


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    ¡°Most likely because we¡¯re seen as a threat.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± she acknowledged, thinking back to all those months ago when she herself had worried about not being able to provide her husband with an heir. As Grand Duke and the closest Royal blood-line, he could have claim to the Throne. ¡°But, I do know it¡¯s just you up there in the North. May I ask what happened to your parents?¡±


    Amon nodded, though he looked towards the trickling water instead of holding her gaze. ¡°My mother died right after birth, and my father followed a few months after. I don¡¯t remember them, so I can¡¯t say I miss someone that never existed in my life. But, I don¡¯t like to think of myself as an orphan.¡± A gentle smile touched his eyes. ¡°I have people that I like to call my Mother and Father.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d love to hear about them.¡±


    His eyes softened. ¡°My Father is the groundskeeper of my estate in Mallory. He¡¯s grumpy and not much of a talker, but you¡¯ll never know someone with a warmer heart than him.¡±


    Jovine looked down, smiling at the ground. She could hear the affection abounding through his words.


    ¡°My Mother, on the other hand, delivered me when I was born. She took care of me ever since and is a complete opposite from my Father ¡ª she talks too much most days and always smiles. More so when she¡¯s sad.¡±


    ¡°They sound like great people.¡±


    ¡°The best,¡± he said. ¡°Against all odds, they fell in love, and by the time I turned 16, they were married.¡±


    ¡°How beautiful.¡±


    And, it truly was ¡ª to watch him talk about his family and knowing he didn¡¯t bear the brunt of loneliness as most people presumed. In the cold North, shunned by the Capital and marked as distant peril, Jovine could only imagine Mallory and the Grand Duke¡¯s predicament as a dark, isolated existence. Yet, the way his eyes lit up as he remembered his home told a different story. And, the more she listened, doubt started to crowd in.


    As Amon easily told tales of Mallory, like the way his favorite bakery was run by his best mate¡¯s father who always had streaks of flour on his face or the quaint little flower shop his Mother loved to visit, Jovine couldn¡¯t help but feel she had come to the wrong person.


    She had come all this way, testing the man ¡ª the very man who clearly missed his home ¡ª to see if he was good enough to usurp the Crown. To see if he could take his place on the Throne. Her survey of his character showed he¡¯d be compassionate enough to care for Theolos, yet Amon didn¡¯t seem like someone who came to fight.


    So, as the sun arced across the sky until rays of light shone on her face and Amon finally looked to her to hold up her end of her bargain, she told him a fraction of her story with bitter guilt tainting her thoughts. A dull one compared to his, she realized her life had only amounted to being the Crown Prince¡¯s betrothed or the Emperor¡¯s bride. Even as a child she had only prepared for her role or waited in her brothers¡¯ shadows.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m not very interesting,¡± she finished with a conscious laugh. It had taken Amon a good hour telling her the things she wanted to know, and she could only manage a few drab sentences for hers.


    ¡°I beg to differ,¡± Amon countered. ¡°I hope one day you¡¯ll feel yourself wanting to tell me more, but for now, I¡¯m happy to know you.¡±


    Jovine stared into his unfazed eyes. Perhaps he was right and she couldn¡¯t find more things to say because she didn¡¯t want to tell him. But, there were stories that didn¡¯t belong to her. Like Elias¡¯ and her father¡¯s.


    ¡°I¡¯m happy to know you too, Amon.¡± The friendship he had mentioned at the start of all this began to form in fragile bonds. A bond she knew, in a moment, would be shattered.


    And, she was right.


    Because, as they packed up their eaten goods and she donned her cloak, they made their way back through the forest, and before they could re-enter civilization where eyes would be watching and ears could be listening, Jovine called out to him.


    ¡°Amon?¡±


    He turned, a curious smile pasted on his face. ¡°Yes, Jovine?¡±


    Jovine took a breath, her heart pounding heavily as she drew the courage. The doubts she held still rang in the balance, but she couldn¡¯t let her chance escape. "I hate to end it like this," she muttered.


    Reaching into her pockets, she grasped that small, but heavy, coin. Holding it up into the light, she finally asked the question she found him for. ¡°What¡¯s your play in this?¡±


    Every soft emotion, every amiable moment they shared in their day together, drained from his face. No longer smiling, no longer warm, Amon vel Feyras stared at her.


    Vacantly.


    And resigned.

 Pawns and Bargains (Part I)

    ¡°This is why you came to me.¡± He said it so softly, almost to himself. ¡°And the reason why you¡¯ve been watching me all day.¡±


    Jovine looked away, unable to hold his gaze. She wished she had the luxury for genuine connection, but no matter how many times he called her by name, their titles remained. And, so did her burden. What else could she do but be painfully honest?


    ¡°Yes,¡± she answered.


    A short humorless laugh escaped him. When she glanced down, she saw him clench his fists over the sacks he still held.


    ¡°I have no part, nor do I want one,¡± he muttered, his voice devoid of any emotion.


    She was right. He didn¡¯t want to fight, and the walls they had momentarily overcome were built again, barring one from moving the other. Pushing him further would drive him to a place where he¡¯d be far-removed from her reach. Jovine didn¡¯t want it to come to that, but did she even have a choice?


    ¡°Then, why are you still here?¡± she asked, finally looking him in the eye. Golden eyes that were no longer honeyed comfort but solid amber.


    He frowned in answer, confusion marring his striking face.


    ¡°It was clear you were meant to leave for Mallory, yet you stayed. That itself is a movement.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t stay to be a part of some twisted game,¡± he retorted.


    ¡°Regardless, you¡¯re still here. You care about the people. You have a legitimate claim. I know you understand the implications of your presence here.¡±


    A muscle flexed in his jaw as he wordlessly stared at her. Like he wanted to say something that couldn¡¯t be uttered. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he finally said. ¡°I was naive in thinking to stay.¡±


    ¡°Amon ¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be going back to Mallory soon. You won¡¯t have to worry about any interference from me.¡±


    He turned to start towards the village again when Jovine reached out and grabbed his wrist. She felt him tense.


    ¡°Interfere.¡±


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    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Take him down,¡± she said. ¡°Seat yourself on the Throne.¡±


    Heavy silence suffocated the mere inches between them. His eyes flitted across hers as he weighed the severity of what she just voiced.


    Treason.


    A harsh breeze rattled against her body.


    "Do you have any idea what you''re asking me to do?" he muttered darkly.


    "Do I need to make myself clearer?" she shot back.


    Amon scoffed, shaking his head. ¡°I see even my Empress is eager to use me as a pawn.¡± He shifted away from her touch. ¡°Which part about me called out to you? The horde of supporters I never asked for? Or the fact that your husband despises me?¡±


    Jovine internally flinched. He had every right to be angered. He was a pawn. But, they were all pawns in the face of power. No amount of embellished lies could change that.


    She settled on blunt honesty. ¡°Either. Both. Everything. There¡¯s no difference. Whatever part, it all comes back to you.¡±


    ¡°And my refusal means nothing?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m left with two choices, Amon. I can remain complacent and wash myself in the suffering. Or, I can fight. Play. Whatever it takes to end this.¡± Jovine lifted her chin, her voice gaining strength. ¡°I see the injustice burning in your eyes. If you do nothing, do you honestly believe the Emperor will leave you alone? Leave Mallory alone? You''re a threat. A formiddable one. He¡¯s too far gone to reason against you.¡±


    ¡°The Emperor and I don¡¯t have children,¡± she reminded him. ¡°You have claim. So, will you stake it now or be forced to when he¡¯s run Theolos to the ground? It''s only a matter of time.¡±


    His hard gaze pierced into her. She could see the conflict raging within him. Even he couldn¡¯t deny that the Empire would fester if Richard remained where he stood.


    ¡°And if there¡¯s been foul play?¡± he asked lowly.


    Jovine frowned at the strange question. ¡°Foul play?¡±


    ¡°What if you decide to forgive him?¡±


    An uneasy trickle of offense stirred in her gut. The way he worded his question felt bitter and unsettling, but she heard the underlying implication. Jovine straightened, her eyes narrowing. ¡°I¡¯m not going to the lengths of treason because I¡¯ve been scorned by an unfaithful man. No matter his failings as a husband, if Richard de Tristaine was fit to rule, the simplicity of abdicating my throne and leaving him would have been the most painless form of retribution. One that didn¡¯t gamble away my life and yours. But, he is not fit to rule. That much is explicitly clear.¡±


    Jovine glanced down at the coin in her palm, the gold engravings of his House¡¯s Columbine Flower glaring at her under the waning sunlight. ¡°I¡¯m not one to gamble. I don¡¯t like the risk.¡± The rushing wind caressed her as she looked up. ¡°But, I¡¯ve decided to bet on you, Amon vel Feyras."


    The breeze picked up in pace as he closed his eyes and swallowed. Standing there, with his silver hair dancing to the wind¡¯s symphony, she could see him with a crown. A crown of burden and corruption, but one he could tame with his humanity.


    Amon opened his eyes. ¡°Two conditions.¡±


    Her pulse jumped. Was he agreeing to play?


    ¡°Mallory will be restored as the Imperial Capital.¡±


    Restored?


    ¡°And you will marry and rule beside me as Empress.¡±

 Pawns and Bargains (Part II)

    Jovine stood motionless, stunned.


    He wanted to marry her...


    Wanted her as Empress¡­


    She felt her head shaking in refusal as she breathed, ¡°Why would you want me like that?¡±


    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I?¡± he challenged.


    Was it not obvious?


    If Richard was the crook, Jovine was the one who never stopped him from taking the key. The one who watched as he raided, burned, and thieved. The one who turned away when he freed his malice with her heart on his sleeve.


    ¡°The Emperor is not the only one at fault,¡± she claimed, shame twisting her gut. ¡°I was standing with him. I was devoted to him. I was ¡ª¡±


    ¡°You were blinded,¡± he finished for her. ¡°Am I wrong to assume he no longer affects you?¡±


    Jovine bit the inside of her cheek, looking away from his penetrating gaze. He wasn¡¯t wrong. She was awake, yes. Her husband was buried and any lingering attachment had departed. But, she still found herself shaking her head.


    His condition was preposterous. The Imperial Capital could be wherever he wanted it, but she couldn¡¯t be his Empress. She couldn¡¯t be tied to another forced marriage that only brought insufferable affliction and suffocation. And, Amon couldn¡¯t be tied to her either.


    ¡°I would be the wife of a deposed ruler,¡± she faintly began, looking back at him intently and imploring him to find reason. ¡°A ruler you need to exile and brand as a traitor. Any association with me would tarnish your claim. The Empire will already be in a fragile state, and you need a stronger consort to solidify it.¡±


    Amon stepped closer. ¡°Would I not be the Emperor?¡±


    Her heart stuttered at the spark in his eyes.


    ¡°If I choose you, no one can deny me,¡± he said. ¡°Only you.¡±


    It was both an oblivious and ruthless declaration. And one that made it clear the choice would come down to her.


    Her head spun as the fierce rhythm of her heartbeats pounded against her skull now. She had died as an Empress. The very seed of her demise was planted when she was chosen to be the Crown Prince¡¯s bride. When she fell in love with the man. When she gave into that wretched feeling for a tyrant Emperor, no matter how much it broke her.


    She couldn¡¯t do it again.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want the title,¡± she murmured.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want mine either.¡±


    Jovine flinched. Her hypocrisy was apparent. She was selfish to ask for freedom when she was chaining him down to the same fate. But, she wouldn¡¯t be able to endure it anymore. Even now, she barely felt sane. Waking up to know her death was imminent. Hanging onto the anger and fear that gradually chipped away at her crumbling mind. It was enough to rupture her.


    Amon¡¯s brows creased as he watched the raging thoughts shadowing her face. His hand slowly lifted, but it dropped before it could reach her.


    ¡°The change we want can only see light through authority,¡± he said. ¡°You may not want the title anymore, but you thirst for reformation. An Empress can forge her ideas into actuality. She will be my partner, a ruler, a mother to the people. I could marry anyone else, yes. But, if her vision for Theolos doesn¡¯t align, can you handle the doubt that things could have been different under your rule?¡±


    His ardent words stoked a fire in her veins.


    ¡°If I choose someone else,¡± he muttered. ¡°Would you walk away with no regrets?¡±


    An unwanted truth resonated harshly within her. Everything he said was precise enough to puncture the part of her that was purely against the idea of enduring the burden again.


    He was right.


    She wanted reformation. Change. Good. Prosperity.


    It was carved into her.


    Yet, the sensible side of her reluctance spoke.


    ¡°It¡¯s not as simple as that,¡± she weakly countered. ¡°For this ¡ª for us to even work, or even be considered as acceptable, we¡¯d have to¡­¡± Jovine faltered, trying to find the right words. ¡°We¡¯d have to be ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Lovers?¡±


    Jovine jolted, her startled eyes snapping up. It wasn¡¯t what she was thinking at all. At least not in the radical way he suggested.


    There was a very thin line they would have to tread. If her husband, the Emperor, was to be ousted, Amon could use the people¡¯s pity and their hunger for scandal to fuel their union. However, the line between a good story and a treasonous Empress was too precarious. They would have to weave a tale that held no truth.


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    Would he truly go to those lengths? Just for this outlandish proposal?


    She asked him. ¡°You¡¯d have us act as lovers?¡±


    His eyes darkened as he dropped the sacks and stepped a little closer.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything about acting,¡± he said in a low voice. Without their bodies touching, he leaned close until she felt his breath at her ear.


    ¡°One word from your lips, and I¡¯d serve at your pleasure,¡± he whispered. She jumped when she felt the gentlest brush from the skin of his lips.


    ¡°Gladly,¡± he continued softly. ¡°And well.¡±


    A dark shiver shuddered up her spine. Her heart thundered fiercely. She didn¡¯t question it. Amon vel Feyras would be wild and untamed and¡­


    She closed her eyes.


    The thought wasn¡¯t unwelcome. It could certainly taste sweet enough. What would it feel like to spite her husband by touching another man? One who was as beautiful and impressive as the Grand Duke.


    But, the fact of the matter was that she wanted to be free from the confines of intimate attachment, not strung into another one. The only man she had given herself to was Richard. The man who shaped her heart to shatter it. She knew how it ended.


    Despite the heat that emanated from Amon¡¯s body, a chill settled over her. ¡°You don¡¯t have to go to those lengths for me,¡± she uttered in a hollow voice. ¡°I don¡¯t want us to be like them.¡±


    She didn¡¯t say a name, but from the way Amon recoiled and looked into her shuttered eyes, she knew he understood. There was no reason to taint an already delicate bond with physical dependency. They could both see the foolishness it brought with the Emperor and his mistress.


    He took a slight step back, although they were still closer than comfort. ¡°Alright, then. An act it is. If I want a chance of winning over the nobles who stand behind the Emperor, I¡¯ll need you. It can mean nothing, though we would have to deceive a crowd.¡±


    Did she agree? If it meant Amon would play, could she subject herself to another relationship, another marriage, of convenience?


    ¡°What are you thinking, Jovine?¡± Amon asked, his eyes troubled and dark.


    Jovine opened her mouth, an answer balancing on the tip of her tongue. ¡°I ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Oh my, am I interrupting something?¡±


    At the intruding voice, Jovine and Amon sprung apart from one another. Standing a few steps away, Elias was leaned against an opposite tree, watching with terrible glee sparkling in his green eyes.


    A dreadful flush overtook her features. How long had her brother been standing there?


    ¡°Goodness, Elias,¡± she cried, her hand settling over her racing heart. ¡°You can¡¯t just ¡ª¡±


    ¡°What?¡± he asked innocently.


    She narrowed her eyes.


    Elias turned his amused gaze to a very confused Amon who looked tense and guarded. He straightened. ¡°Well, aren¡¯t you going to introduce me, Vinnie?¡±


    Her voice strained, she said, ¡°Amon, this is Elias Rainer. My eldest brother.¡±


    Amon¡¯s face smoothed in surprise. Wiping his hands on his shirt, he stretched out a hand in greeting. ¡°My apologies, Lord Rainer. It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you.¡±


    Elias walked over, shooting a wicked smirk in her direction. ¡°Already on a first-name basis, are we?¡±


    Before he could receive a particularly dirty look from her, Elias took the Grand Duke¡¯s hand. ¡°The pleasure is mine, Your Grace.¡±


    Amon started to form a polite smile when he stumbled from the bone-crunching force of her brother¡¯s grip. Elias was at least two heads shorter, but it didn¡¯t matter. Threat still shone in his eyes.


    Horrified, Jovine moved to unlink them when a breathless chuckle strangled out of Amon.


    ¡°I think I¡¯m going to like you, Lord Rainer.¡±


    Satisfied, her brother finally released his hand. ¡°Just Elias. I don''t have a title anymore.¡±


    ¡°Understood,¡± Amon supplied.


    Elias glanced over to Jovine¡¯s frozen form. ¡°I hate to cut the moment short, but we need to go.¡±


    Her brows creased.


    ¡°Now,¡± Elias added.


    She didn¡¯t need to ask why. Chattering voices already sounded in the distance. They were out of time.


    Jovine turned to Amon. As observant as ever, her brother stepped away and out of earshot.


    She looked into the Grand Duke¡¯s questioning gaze.


    ¡°Take the throne,¡± she decided. ¡°And the Capital and I am yours.¡±


    His eyes widened for a split moment before they settled again. ¡°Agreed.¡±


    With a nod, Jovine glanced back at her waiting brother and the forms of townspeople walking through the forest. They were most likely families going to their homes or those looking for a stroll to the waterfall. ¡°I¡¯ll write to you about our next move. You¡¯ll also have to move into the Palace if our charade is to take root.¡±


    ¡°As you wish,¡± he answered.


    ¡°I have to go.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    Jovine looked back into his stoic face. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Amon.¡± For everything.


    With that, she departed, her heart racing along with the flurry of unease poisoning her mind. Did she make the right decision?


    Donning her hood again, Jovine kept her head down as she made her way to her brother¡¯s side. ¡°Where have you been?¡± she asked as soon as she caught up to him.


    Elias raised a brow at her direct questioning. He reached into his coat and gave her a brief peek at a piece of paper in his pockets. Although it was mere seconds before he smoothly adjusted his jacket again, she knew what it was. How could she not after spending days poring over it? The late Empress¡¯ map ¡ª the one she could never decipher.


    ¡°I followed it,¡± he muttered under his breath.


    Jovine stopped in her tracks. ¡°You can read it?¡±


    Clicking his tongue in disapproval, Elias grasped her wrist to get her walking again. ¡°I can. If you know where to look, it¡¯s not difficult. I gather you missed it because you¡¯ve never seen this part of the Empire. The slums.¡±


    Her breaths stuttered. ¡°What did you find?¡±


    A scoff of disbelief loosed out of him. ¡°I didn¡¯t believe it at first. It was too easy.¡±


    ¡°Elias,¡± she urged.


    This time, he was the one who stopped. ¡°It led me straight into the rebels¡¯ base.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s an underground cavern where the gambles play out, where they wager and wait for Amon vel Feyras.¡±


    Jovine¡¯s heart dropped. How¡­


    A harsh breeze caressed her shaking hand, almost feeling as if someone was touching her. As if one revelation wasn¡¯t enough, another slammed into her.


    The wind.


    All day, it had been stirring around her, but it was only now that she realized it felt familiar. She had encountered it before. On the night she died, she swore she felt the same touch as she dragged herself across the bloodied ground.


    Rebels.


    A magical lineage.


    A world touched by magic.


    Restoring an Imperial Capital.


    Jovine spun around, her eyes searching the trees. He was further in the distance, but she still saw him standing there, his silver hair flickering through the breeze.


    ¡°Is that you?¡± she breathed, clutching at the invisible wind that almost felt tangible.


    Like a fever dream, the wind brought his answer to her ear.


    Yes.

 Her Attention

    With a twist of his fingers, the wind rushed back into his palm, and already, it missed her scent.


    Amon cursed under his breath as he watched Elias Rainer drawing her away. He hadn¡¯t meant to reach out to her. Or answer her question with his breath in the air.


    Now, she knew he resided in the wind. That it bowed under his mercy with a flick of his wrist or the maddening way it fled away from him when he was unguarded.


    Regardless of the small speck of control he had reigned over the past couple months, the air was a constant thrum of energy in her presence. All day, it had been swaying around her, moving in rhythm to the way she toyed with his emotions.


    It was prideful of him to assume he understood the depths of his powers.


    Even now, the urge to reach out to her felt demanding enough to rattle him.


    As she vanished into the distance, Amon leaned deeper into the shadowed trees, shrouding himself away from the small crowds of families. He tied his hair back as his chest constricted in strange spasms.


    What had he just agreed to?


    In the span of a few moments, it had gone from bliss to revolution. She had thrilled him. Angered him. Captivated him. And now, drawn him into a very dangerous game.


    Amon never coveted the Throne. He had never envisioned himself getting involved in a play for politics and power ¡ª the very things he loathed.


    He could have laughed, though nothing about this was funny. He was nothing but a pawn to her. She had only asked for his story, smiled for him, traveled through the markets with him, as what? A test? To see if he was worthy? It was ridiculously morose, yet nothing was more ridiculous than the fact that he accepted if it meant he could have her.


    Because, he was eager for her. Eager to know her. Eager to watch her defenses falter and to know what burned in her veins to inspire such foolish strength.


    Did she know that he despised her at first?


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    He had despised people like her. Someone who was so blinded by love that she cowered when she could have raged. Someone who was loyal to a fault. A virtue that bled into a crippling vice. It made him livid every time he watched her looking at the Emperor. Looking at a man who he could only deem as a faithless rake. It made him want to rile her, provoke her, push her to look away.


    But the more his eyes were stuck on this heartrending woman, the more he was stunned.


    He saw the strength it took to wipe away as many tears as she had shed. The will she had to muster to smile when all she would have wanted was to break down and cry. Amon realized the very thing he despised was that she refused to show the strength he knew she had to have.


    She didn¡¯t seem to remember, but he had found her countless times at the Banquets and Balls the Emperor threw for his lavish mistress. Hidden in the Gardens or settled in a dark hallway, he watched as she cried into her hands. He watched until it killed him and he couldn¡¯t help himself but approach her with a handkerchief ¡ª one she always declined with a smile on her face.


    Did she not remember all the times he had sat with her as she tried to convince him she was fine? The moments where she barely noticed him or the aggravating way her eyes passed through him every time he looked at her¡­ It was enough to know that he would never have the privilege of her attention. All of it was solely saved for her undeserving husband.


    Then, something changed.


    For the first time, she noticed him. In the Gardens, on the day he was to leave for Mallory, awareness had sparked in her eyes. Tension bled into the space between them. He was in awe.


    For the first time, he had her attention.


    And, like a smitten fool, it was the reason why he stayed. Despite his agreement with the Emperor to never return, he defied those orders if it meant he could have her attention for just a little while longer.


    He scoffed into the wind.


    He certainly had it now. Not only that¡­ she accepted his proposal.


    Amon swallowed down a bitter taste of remorse. It was selfish of him to ask for her hand, especially when he withheld the truth.


    The truth that he did suspect foul play. That the scent of dark magic was tainted on the Emperor.


    His knuckles whitened as he dug his fingers into his palm.


    He didn¡¯t tell her this too. That his memories of the Emperor¡¯s time in Mallory felt wrong and faded. That it baffled him to see such a wicked man but recall the way Crown Prince Richard had been eager to return to his wife.


    Was it wrong of him to keep it to himself?


    Was it wrong that it didn¡¯t matter now?


    He wanted her to be happy, but happy with him. If the cost of that was a Throne, he would take it. He would take as many crowns, stage as many coups and revolutions for a chance with her.


    He couldn¡¯t gauge the depths of these torturous feelings or the damage he would face if his suspicions were true, but one thing was set in stone.


    Loving her would be inevitable.

 Challenge

    ¡°Your Majesty?¡±


    The Emperor flinched. Turning away from the empty chair beside him, he slid his eyes to Harrison Ballio.


    ¡°May I ask your thoughts on the matter?¡± Lord Harrison continued expectantly.


    A heavy sigh puffed out of him as he pinched the bridge of nose. He hadn¡¯t heard a word he said. Nor did he give the slightest damn about it. ¡°Do as you wish,¡± Richard muttered with a wave of his hand.


    Ballio bowed, a devilish smirk stretching across his thin lips. ¡°Of course, Your Majesty.¡±


    Gathered in the Throne Room, Richard looked out at his Imperial Council. They stood in parallel lines with their hands clasped in front, and he didn¡¯t miss the way many members from the Western Faction threw him tensed glances from beneath the raised dais. Slumping down in his high-backed, golden throne, Richard massaged his sore temples with a scowl on his face.


    ¡°The following point of order is an announcement from the Minister of Finance,¡± Lord Maximus announced, placing a new scroll on the large, ornamental desk placed before the Emperor.


    Lord Jameson, a heavy-set man with a full copper beard, stepped forward with a grunt. Richard¡¯s eyes were on the verge of rolling to the back of his head before he found himself glancing at the seat beside him again.


    All morning, his eyes had wandered to the empty throne.


    The Empress¡¯ presence was never a requirement at these aggravating meetings, but just the sight of the barren seat reminded him that days had passed with her silence.


    The mere emptiness of it irritated him.


    Richard shook his head in abhorrence and looked ahead with his jaw clenched tight.


    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± Jameson bowed.


    ¡°Go on,¡± he sighed.


    Tipping his bulbous nose up in the air, he glanced around the room with a spark of haughty arrogance. ¡°After much deliberation, I have decided to resign from my position.¡±


    Immediately, members of the Eastern Faction called out in outraged confusion. Apparently, the news was unknown to them as well. Richard raised a brow. Finally, something of interest had spurred.


    ¡°Ridiculous,¡± Lord Frintle, a small, nasally man with balding blonde curls, bellowed out from the left. ¡°You would dare declare your resignation without consult or approval?¡±


    Jameson barely spared the man a glance. ¡°It has truly been an honor to serve on your Council, Your Majesty,¡± he began with a flourished bow of his head and a hand on his soft chest. ¡°But in my old age, I¡¯ve been feeling less and less worthy of such an active position. Surely, you can understand the need for someone who can bring justice to the role.¡±


    Taking in the raged expressions from his left and the pleased silence from his right, Richard couldn¡¯t help but scoff in amusement. Jameson, a man still young enough to dally with unassuming voracious ladies, was claiming humility before him now. A better excuse could have been his desire to spend more time with his neglected family in the countryside, but instead, he urged for integrity.


    A brief recollection of his Royal Secretary¡¯s concerns surged to the surface. If the speculative rumors held truth, the Minister of Finance was a naturally unethical man. One who was easy to bribe and manipulate. For nobles who enjoyed such dishonesty, a few bags of heavy coins would have been enough to sate his immoral agenda.


    Jovine¡¯s accusations echoed in his mind.


    ¡°You surprise me, Jameson,¡± Richard replied. ¡°Minister of Finance is a powerful position. Undeniably one of the more important roles in the Empire. I would think someone like you would be hesitant to give it up.¡±


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    Bringing his thick fingers to fidget with the cravat at his throat, the stocky, red-haired man laughed uneasily. ¡°Even I can understand when my time is up.¡±


    ¡°Is that so?¡± Richard mused, entertained by his ambiguity. ¡°Going by your complete disregard for protocol, I assume you don¡¯t even have a candidate for your replacement?¡±


    The minister perked up with renewed confidence. ¡°On the contrary, Your Majesty, I¡¯ve prepared one for you now.¡±


    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± Ballio interjected, stepping forward with a harsh frown indenting his pale face. ¡°I advise you decline this senseless request. We have all vowed commitment to our roles, and no matter how old and unworthy Lord Jameson may be feeling, he has an obligation to this Court!¡±


    ¡°Does it displease you so much to lose him, Ballio?¡± Lord Jurian Reyes, Prime Minister and Chancellor of Theolos, spoke up in a smooth voice. With his sharp, brown eyes and short, peppered hair, the man held an air of righteous elegance. ¡°Despite Lord Ballio¡¯s outburst, I agree with the proposal, Your Majesty. If the Minister decrees himself to be unworthy of such a position, I also urge you to approve a finer contender.¡±


    Ballio clenched his fists as a scarlet flush painted his cheeks. ¡°You stay out of this ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Silence,¡± Richard snapped. ¡°Jameson, do continue.¡±


    After throwing Ballio a contemptuous squint, Jameson straightened. ¡°Before announcing a candidate, I¡¯d like to briefly go over the profound issues surrounding ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Get to the point.¡±


    Lord Jameson cleared his throat and looked behind at the closed entrance, where two uniformed heralds stood with their backs painfully vertical as they waited to announce any approaching guests. At the sight of their still forms, the Minister fidgeted, his fingers curling back and forth over his gray Council robe. ¡°Well, I suppose the timing isn¡¯t to my advantage, but they should be here¡­¡±


    ¡°For goodness sake, Jameson,¡± Ballio spat. ¡°Enough with your schemes!¡±


    A prickling weariness tickled up the Emperor¡¯s spine. He pinched the bridge of his nose again. ¡°Is that what this is, Jameson? Are you toying for an advantage?¡±


    ¡°No! Not at all,¡± Jameson exclaimed. ¡°I-I am simply¡­¡±


    As the squirming Minister of Finance searched for the proper words, a discreet patterned knock ¡ª a sound that would slip past most people ¡ªdoused him in relief. All morning, his ears had been straining to hear the coming arrival. Now, he only had a few seconds.


    Jameson adjusted his posture and looked into the Emperor¡¯s devoid eyes with feigned strength. ¡°Forgive me, Your Majesty. I bring before you a man of great nobility, influence, and power, but one I have no right to announce myself.¡±


    As the Emperor raised a crooked brow, the heralds clicked their heels and moved for the double doors. ¡°Her Majesty the Empress has arrived for an audience!¡±


    All heads swiveled in the direction of the opening doors as Richard lurched forward in his seat.


    Approaching the dais with her sharp click of heels and a flowing turquoise gown, Empress Jovine de Tristaine strode through the room with her shoulders confidently set and a blank stoicism on her face. The room bowed before her in customary deference, but it was short-lived as they realized another pair of black boots stepped behind her in tandem.


    Looking up in horror, the ministers of the Imperial Council gaped at the imposing, formidable man with silver hair and blinding golden eyes.


    As the Empress and her guest stopped before the dais, Lord Jameson spoke up in a proud voice. ¡°Her Majesty the Empress has come to endorse my candidate.¡±


    Jameson looked towards Jovine and offered the floor to her.


    Jovine tilted her chin up and stared into her husband¡¯s livid face. For a moment, he swore he saw a spark of challenge in her exquisite eyes. ¡°Your Majesty. My Lords," she softly greeted.


    The room stilled, as if they were all holding their breaths.


    "I bring to you an unmatched contender for Lord Jameson''s position," Jovine continued.


    Richard could barely breathe through the shocked rage.


    A small smirk lifted the corner of her lips. "I bring to you...Grand Duke Amon vel Feyras.¡±


    One name, and the Council Room erupted in commotion. One name, and a dark fury seared the Emperor¡¯s throat.


    In a chaos of flurry, rebuttals and dissent battled back and forth.


    ¡°Preposterous! The Grand Duke has never been allowed entry into the Court before!¡±


    ¡°You must reconsider, Your Majesty. Grand Duke Amon is a threat to the Throne!¡±


    ¡°Without an heir ¡ª¡±


    ¡°There is no precedence ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Your Majesty! Please ¡ª¡±


    Richard didn¡¯t dare break his stare from his fearless wife, who gazed back in cold reserve. ¡°Everyone, out¡± he muttered hoarsely.


    From the explosion of voices clashing, no one heard his unsteady command.


    ¡°EVERYONE, OUT!¡±


    A fearful silence descended on the Council.


    ¡°Did you not hear me?¡± Richard gritted through his teeth. ¡°You will all leave. NOW.¡±


    The Council scattered in alarm, the murderous look in the Emperor¡¯s eyes instilling a true sense of terror. But nothing turned the Emperor¡¯s vision more red than when Amon vel Feyras bent to whisper into his wife¡¯s ear. A trembling rage strangled his chest as Richard watched the bastard grasp her arm to pull her away with the crowd.


    ¡°Not you, Jovine,¡± the Emperor bit out. ¡°You will stay.¡±

 We are bound

    Stifling minutes of complete silence should have concerned her, but Jovine knew better than most that the Emperor¡¯s wordless manner was his greatest effort of restraint.In fact, it was when he was at his angriest that he refused to speak. Rather than a fevered outburst, Richard¡¯s anger was the most menacing when he dwelled in silence.


    Thick, heavy tension suffocated the air as Jovine stood there with her fingers calmly twined in front of her. By the deadly glint in the Emperor¡¯s eyes, he was daring her to break his stare. Or the silence. Whichever came first.


    She refused to bend on both accounts. In truth, she relished the way his jaw would tick along with the fading seconds.


    After all, his ire was expected.


    Losing his own game, Richard ripped his eyes away and cursed fiercely. ¡°You have nothing to say, do you?¡± he muttered under his breath. His dark blue eyes pinned her back on the spot. ¡°Do you realize the repercussions of what you¡¯ve just done?¡±


    Jovine stared blankly ahead. ¡°Of course I do.¡±


    ¡°Then, you¡¯ve purposefully set out to HUMILIATE ME?¡± he bellowed, the vast room echoing his outrage. ¡°TO DISRESPECT ME?¡±


    ¡°Not exactly, but if it has come to that, I don¡¯t have any soothing words for you.¡±


    Richard barked out a savage laugh. ¡°Look at you, Jovine. You know how to bite now.¡±


    She mockingly smiled along with him. ¡°Does it sting?¡±


    ¡°No. Because your foolish efforts will be for nothing,¡± Richard taunted, all traces of his forced humor wiped away. ¡°The Vel Feyras Family has been banned from entering Court for decades. The very concern of his presence here threatens the line of succession. For this alone, his contest will be rejected.¡±


    ¡°Times have changed, Your Majesty,¡± Jovine calmly countered. ¡°You, yourself, were the one to bring him here.¡±


    Richard clenched his fists until his knuckles paled.


    ¡°The Grand Duke¡¯s reign over the North has seen very prosperous seasons for both the nobles and commoners. Surely, for the good of the people, you¡¯d desire his talents,¡± she continued.


    ¡°Do you think I give damn about his talents?¡± Richard spat. ¡°We are childless, Jovine. That makes him a danger to us.¡±


    Jovine raised a brow at his obsession with the line of succession. ¡°Well, then, I suppose our Royal Concubine should be facing a few sleepless nights.¡±


    The Emperor¡¯s eyes darkened. ¡°Why would she? When I have you?¡±


    A jolt startled her insides, the unexpected retort striking a nerve. Jovine suppressed her fury at his insinuation and flicked him an icy gaze. ¡°You and I both know we¡¯ve failed in that manner. I would even say God was merciful enough to spare us the ache of bearing a child together.¡±


    ¡°One word,¡± Richard started in a dark voice. ¡°One order, and I could have you in my bed. Or would you forgo your duties to me as my wife and Empress?¡±


    ¡°You can threaten me all you¡¯d like,¡± she said. ¡°But you''ll never have me again. If your ego claims it as negligence, perhaps you can just depose me.¡±


    His lips parted.


    ¡°But I¡¯d remind you, Your Majesty. In this marriage of convenience, we both bring power to the table,¡± she continued. ¡°Before you, I was a Rainer. Don¡¯t take that name lightly.¡±


    Jovine saw the exact moment that his temper snapped. Slamming his hands on the table, the Emperor rose from his Throne. She watched as his mouth formed the barbed words he wanted to hurl, but instead, he swiftly turned away from her, his body trembling harshly. When he swiveled back to face her, his eyes grew cold. Cold enough for a speck of dread to trickle down her spine.


    ¡°Come here,¡± he ordered lowly.


    A hint of trepidation flashed through her. Jovine didn¡¯t move. ¡°If you have something to say, you to come to me.¡±


    His lips curved up into a sneer. ¡°So, that¡¯s how you want to play it?¡±


    Shoving past the large desk, the Emperor made his way down the dais and approached her with slow, measured steps. She had seen that look in his eyes before, and the memory of it made her shiver. Doing everything in her power to stand her ground, Jovine held her breath as he neared her still form.


    This close together, she could see the vein throbbing at his temples and the dilation of his pupils. The very heat of his anger caressed her as he crowded into her space. As he stared down at her with a violent, raw fury, his fingers curled into her hair and pulled at the strands to tip her face up to look at him.


    Shocked, Jovine clenched her fists over her gown. As if he was pleased by the crack in her mask, Richard leaned down with a smirk. Before she could decide whether or not to knee him where it would hurt, Richard pushed her head into his chest and roughly embraced her. Jovine swallowed a gasp when she felt his lips brushing her hair.


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    ¡°Why are you acting like this?¡± he whispered into her.


    Stunned and bewildered by his unexpected move, she stood like a stiff branch in his arms.


    Richard¡¯s lips traveled to the delicate skin behind her ear, making her jump when he breathed, ¡°Are you still angry with me? Tell me what I can do to ease it.¡±


    Every part of her revolted from his touch, but the worst of it was the familiarity of his arms. Or the way her body relived the sensation of leaning into his intoxicating scent.


    Richard¡¯s large hands spanned the width of her waist and sunk dangerously low to the small of her back. He pressed their bodies closer as he continued whispering into her ear. ¡°You and I have been too separate from each other.¡± One of his hands traveled back up to the nape of her neck where his fingers pressed into her skin. ¡°No more distance.¡± His lips touched her temple. ¡°No more of this absurdity.¡±


    Jovine¡¯s breaths grew heavier. From anger or distress, she didn¡¯t quite know.


    Richard momentarily leaned back, his eyes moving over her paling face. His nose brushed her cheek, and she knew where his lips would touch her next. A hazy part of her might have allowed it. Maybe even for the sake of pretending that there was a twisted comfort of recognizing this part of her husband. But before he leaned in to take her lips, Jovine saw the calculation in his observing gaze. She saw the way he monitored her reaction.


    Just as he bent down to take her lips, Jovine jerked her head to the side.


    A disbelieving laugh burst from her. ¡°Did you honestly think that would work on me?¡±


    Richard froze. ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    Jovine stepped back until his heavy arms fell away from her. She stared into his grim face. ¡°You never change, do you? A few pretty words, and I¡¯d bend for you ¡ª that¡¯s what you¡¯re going for, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    The Emperor narrowed his eyes.


    Jovine shook her head in disgust. Just how pathetic did he think she was for to fall for it? ¡°Have you always been this despicable? Do you always go to such lengths to get what you want?¡±


    His composure shattered, the ugly, disguised rage firing up again. ¡°What about YOU?¡± he shouted, his hands flailing in the air. ¡°How far are you going to go? You¡¯re only doing this because I despise him. What¡¯s next? Are you going to claim him as your lover?¡±


    ¡°He is my lover,¡± she shot back. ¡°A fantastic one as well.¡±


    Richard flinched backwards, his body quivering. ¡°Watch your mouth, Jovine.¡±


    She tilted her head. ¡°Amon loves my mouth.¡±


    Surging into her, he grasped her arms in a painful grip. He looked as if he wanted to strangle the breath out of her lungs. Breathing hard, his face turning red, Richard practically vibrated in his thirst for bloodshed. ¡°I could have both your heads for what you''re implying. But you''re a liar. Do you think I¡¯m dull enough to believe you?¡±


    ¡°Believe whatever you need to nurse your vanity.¡±


    He released her, scoffing in arrogance. ¡°You''re only making this easier for me, then. Your implications outright discredit him. Maybe I''ll just hang him for even thinking of touching you.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I wouldn''t do that if I were you,¡± she retorted. ¡°If his relationship with me presents an issue, I believe we¡¯d have to rid every member connected to Emilia Syrene. Every individual who has ever received a favor on your part. Would you be wiling to do that?¡± Jovine challenged in a hard voice.


    Richard¡¯s eyes widened. Either way, if he rid the Council of every biased member to deny Amon¡¯s entry, it would still count as her win.


    When his response never came, Jovine sneered back at him. ¡°I didn¡¯t think so. Amon vel Feyras will be our next Minister of Finance.¡±


    ¡°You really think I¡¯d let this pass?¡± he muttered, dark threat lacing every syllable.


    ¡°Actually, yes.¡± This time, Jovine was the one to slowly crowd into him. Eager for this to end, she leaned in to whisper, ¡°You see, by now, the entirety of Theolos will know about the Grand Duke¡¯s contest for the role. One of the better things about our Empire is the striking speed in which news travels through the cities.¡±


    She felt the shocked tension pulsating through his barely-held restraint.


    Jovine smiled, savoring his frustration. Noticing the loose cravat at his throat, she casually brought her fingers to retie the unfastened cloth, a contemptuous habit that no longer held the love she had when she used to do this for him in the past.


    ¡°I wonder what the people would think when they hear the Emperor has denied such a fine contender on the whim of his pride,¡± she continued in a steady voice, firmly tightening the cloth around his throat. When it was finished, Jovine pulled him closer by the knot. ¡°Maybe they¡¯ll believe it¡¯s a whim of fear. That you¡¯re afraid of him.¡±


    When she finally met his eyes, it wasn¡¯t anger or temper that flashed in his morbid gaze. It was a faint distortion of panic. Like he couldn¡¯t recognize his own wife anymore.


    Jovine softly patted him on the chest. ¡°Amon will be our next Minister of Finance,¡± she sweetly repeated. ¡°There¡¯s nothing more to say here.¡±


    Leaving her husband to grapple with her words, Jovine walked away from him.


    She took it as a small victory, no matter the fact that he still had the final say. With her little scheme of leaking the news to the people, it would deter him from outright rejecting the Grand Duke''s place in the Council. The changing of ministers was always held in private discussions that were solely meant for the ears of the Emperor and his Council. If it was any other way, the complications of political candidacy would prove to hinder every ruling.


    In the case of the Grand Duke, a noble man with claim to the Throne and underground supporters shadowing his every movement, Richard¡¯s rejection would solidify the rivalry. Richard was the Emperor, but it would damn well make it harder for him to deny this play.


    Jovine¡¯s hand reached for the shining, silver handles of the door, satisfied enough with this ending.


    ¡°You took my ring off.¡±


    She stopped in her tracks. Of all the things she expected him to say, all the hate and anger she expected to hear, that single observation was far from it.


    Jovine turned her head. Looking more exhausted and detached, it seemed as if all the strength had drained out of him. With his eyes solely trained on her empty finger, Jovine glanced at his own banded one.


    ¡°I suggest you do the same,¡± she muttered. ¡°It¡¯s a shame needing to adorn it for the sake of pretense.¡±


    His flat eyes traveled to her face. ¡°Pretense? You are my wife, Jovine. We are bound.¡± He lifted his hand to regard his ring. ¡°I don¡¯t ever plan on severing us.¡±


    She couldn¡¯t decide if this was his backhanded way of saying she would fall with him if he was ruined. Or if it was simply a way of him claiming possession over her as a way of dominance and pride.


    ¡°Bound¡­¡± she faintly echoed the word, feeling hollow from the thought. ¡°What a tragic fate for us, Your Majesty.¡±


    Closing the door on his haunted form, the Emperor was left with her parting words ringing through the grand marbled room.


    She had no idea.


    We were always bound for tragedy.

 Have To Be

    A bone-weary fatigue shook her body as Jovine stepped out into the Main Hall. All she wanted to do was sink into the nearest cushion to rest her pounding head, but the work wasn¡¯t done. It never was.


    The past few days had proved that the fight would be ugly. Whether it was from the greasy agreement she struck with Lord Jameson to get him to resign or the lies she spat to wound the Emperor, Jovine was now as shameless as ever. Clutching her hand to her stomach, she tried smothering the uneasy tension that pressed against her insides.


    Why was she feeling so anxious?


    The debacle had ended smoothly enough, with Amon¡¯s memorable introduction to Court and her confrontation with Richard, but she couldn¡¯t rid of the bitter taste in her mouth. Nor could she help but feel a little jolted.


    She had expected the rage and manipulation, but there were more things she never saw coming. Like the hurt in Richard¡¯s eyes, the way he touched her, or the pointless resignation he seemed to shoulder in the end. Jovine wanted nothing more than for him to feel the utter betrayal she felt when he first embraced Emilia; the sight of him rushing to her aid on the night of their Coronation would never fade from her memory. Yet, there was a twist of madness that leaked into her resolve. It would only venture further into a vile tug of control, and the prospect of it was damning enough to shudder every nerve ending in her fragile body.


    Jovine swallowed the panic down and stopped when she saw someone waiting for her. Two of them.


    Elias and Amon. An unlikely, vastly different pair who had formed a peculiar bond in the past few days. With her brother being the one to deliver her letters to the Grand Duke, it wasn¡¯t exactly a surprise that they had become accustomed to one another. But the way they both leaned against the floor length windows in the Hall, arms crossed and faces serious as they quietly conversed together, raised her brows.


    Sensing her presence, the two men straightened, their faces mirroring the same expression of concern.


    ¡°You¡¯re looking pale,¡± Elias said.


    ¡°Yes, thank you for that observation, Elias,¡± Jovine sighed, looking towards Amon instead. It seemed he was back to tying his hair ¡ª a shame, she thought to herself. He looked much freer with the strands unbound.


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    Another anxious lump sunk to the pit of her stomach as she braced herself to speak with him. Other than the very brief, rushed greeting they exchanged in the morning before the Council Meeting, she was never able to get him alone. Never able to ask in her letters or dare to speak with ears listening of the speculation she now swore was a hallucination.


    ¡°Amon, I need to speak to you.¡±


    A knowing glint flashed in his eyes. He knew what she was itching to bring up, but instead of proceeding, he glanced at Elias.


    ¡°What is it?¡± she asked.


    When her brother remained silent, staring into the distance with a particularly stern gaze, Amon answered for him. ¡°The Marquess is here.¡±


    She frowned, looking at Elias, who was pointedly still not meeting her gaze. ¡°Our father? When? Why?¡±


    When Elias still didn¡¯t answer, she had a sense she wouldn¡¯t like the reason. ¡°Elias, why is he here?¡±


    The longer he bit down, the more her suspicions grew. The last time she saw her father was at her Coronation, though his physical presence was nothing when his mind was far away. Grief over the deaths of the late Emperor and Empress had struck the Marquess harder than most. For Edward Rainer, he had lost his friends rather than his monarchs. She understood his need for distance and time, so the unexpected visit was too out of place.


    ¡°Lias?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s the one who bartered with Jameson,¡± Elias finally said.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Father was the one who offered that greedy bastard a piece of his land."


    Her lips parted in shock. It had been a struggle trying to bargain with the lord, but Jovine had been set on Amon taking the role of Finance at Court. Instead of taking the decent route of voluntarily stepping down from a role he unethically managed, the Lord Jameson wanted payment. Something large and permanent. When Elias had come to her the morning before with news of his acceptance on the offer of land, she had assumed her brother Easton had helped arrange something small in their favor.


    She had never wanted to involve their father.


    ¡°Did you approach him?¡± Jovine carefully asked. Elias hadn¡¯t spoken to their parents for years now.


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Then, why¡­how?¡±


    ¡°Ask him,¡± Elias said. ¡°He¡¯s waiting at the Cemetery.¡±


    Before she could mention to take a chance and come with her, he brushed past her without another word. She watched him leave, biting the insides of her cheek as his retreating back disappeared behind a corner.


    It seemed the past would never stop haunting him.


    ¡°Jovine?¡±


    She turned to Amon, her head spiking in pressure with the added strain. ¡°Amon...I apologize. Will you wait for me in the drawing room?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure this has been overwhelming for you... Please get some rest while I meet with him.¡±


    She moved to head to the Cemetery when Amon gently grasped her wrist. ¡°Are you alright?¡±


    Jovine looked into his troubled face. I have to be.


    ¡°I will be.¡±

 The Marquess

    Marquess Edward Rainer was as fair and valiant as people made him out to be.


    He was noble and handsome. A faithful husband, a gentle father. It was difficult for people not to admire him, but they didn¡¯t know the sadness in his eyes.


    Standing within the Imperial Cemetery, Jovine found her father with his head lowered and his eyes closed. Freshly arranged bouquets of white chrysanthemums laid beneath the headstones for Alexander and Helene de Tristaine, his departed friends who left too soon. She pressed her lips together when she felt her nose stinging. It looked as if he had significantly aged from the way the lines deepened at his mouth and the slump in his shoulders. She had never seen her father so dejected.


    Softly approaching his form, Jovine hesitantly called him. ¡°Father?¡±


    He opened his eyes and turned towards his daughter with a weak smile. ¡°Your Majesty,¡± he bowed his head in respect.


    She blinked. ¡°Please don¡¯t hold formalities with me.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the way it¡¯s supposed to be,¡± he politely answered.


    ¡°It¡¯s just us here.¡±


    Her father nodded, his lips twitching. ¡°Seeing as it is just us, I assume Elias didn¡¯t want to see me?¡±


    Jovine clasped her hands in front, facing the headstones. ¡°He¡¯s not ready yet.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect him to be,¡± he admitted. ¡°Are you¡­not ready to see me either?¡±


    Glancing down at her feet, she shook her head in denial, but she couldn¡¯t bring herself to meet his eyes. ¡°Why did you do it?¡± she asked.


    She felt his stare branding the side of her face as he let the seconds pass in silence. ¡°You¡¯ve started down a dangerous path, Your Majesty.¡±


    ¡°And how do you know what path I¡¯ve decided on?¡±


    ¡°Amon vel Feyras stands at your side. I believe that is answer enough.¡±


    She tensed. If rumors of her liaison with the Grand Duke were already circulating the Empire, without the proper context, her plans would end up in flames. ¡°No one should know about it yet. Not even you, Father.¡±


    He tilted his head up towards the soft spring sun that was starting to heat as summer approached. ¡°Rumors haven''t started yet, if that''s what concerns you. Elias asked a favor from your younger brother. You know as well as I do, Easton has never done well with secrecy from me.¡±


    Despite her concern, a hint of amusement slanted her lips. Easton was always more innocent than he let on. And a terrible liar.


    ¡°With the Council in knowledge of it now, however, the cities will start to talk,¡± he continued. ¡°The coming storm is inevitable, Your Majesty.¡±


    ¡°I never wanted you to be implicated in this mess,¡± she muttered. She turned to him, shouldering her guilt with a grimace. ¡°Why would you involve yourself? Why would you want to?¡± She would be a traitor. A failed Empress who would bring ruin to the Tristaine name and a daughter who would shame her family. How could he so easily accept her treason?


    Her father stared at her with regretful eyes that were lined with red exhaustion. Cautiously bringing a hand to her face, he caressed her cheek with a hesitant touch. ¡°You are my daughter. Nothing is worth more to me than defending my child.¡±


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    He brushed a lock of hair from her eyes, his fingers trembling. ¡°And you¡¯ve grown so much, Jovine.¡±


    She bit her tongue, willing herself not to break, but the warmth of her father¡¯s touch made her feel like a child again. After all the heartbreak she¡¯d endured, the hysteria she barely kept at bay, the urge to run into her father¡¯s arm to bawl like a babe was difficult to suppress. She just wanted peace, just needed a bit of rest. Was an Empress allowed such luxuries?


    Her father¡¯s brows furrowed as a shadow passed over his striking features. ¡°In my grief, I lost myself to notice. And it shames me that I let him hurt you. That I didn¡¯t¡­¡±


    Jovine stood frozen when she heard his voice break. If she moved, she knew she would shatter with him.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry,¡± he whispered in remorse. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry I failed to protect you.¡±


    Her willpower snapped. Tears gushed down her face, and he cradled her head to his chest to cry with her.


    Jovine silently sobbed into his cloak, the onslaught of the past few weeks pouring out of her in a soundless stream. She had been betrayed, murdered, reawakened. Wretched games, stolen crowns, and endless lies were all she knew now.


    There was too much and no time to deliver the extent of her anguish.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know how to do this,¡± she whispered. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll survive it.¡±


    ¡°You will survive this,¡± he vowed in an unyielding voice. ¡°You are no longer alone, no longer adrift, Jovine. I promise you.¡±


    Jovine clutched his cloak in response. How long had she kept herself forsaken in an estranged castle with nothing more than a traitorous husband, his wicked mistress, and the nobles who pitied and ridiculed her? In her own foolishness, the blinding nature of her love had isolated her to a darkness she could have escaped if only she had reached out.


    She wasn¡¯t alone anymore. Not at all. She knew this now.Even as her tears quieted, her father refused to let go. Instead he held her closer, as if he was afraid the dark would come for her again if he lost his grip.


    ¡°We¡¯re both awake now,¡± he murmured cryptically. Did he mean their grief?


    ¡°How many times?¡±


    She leaned back. ¡°How many times?¡±


    ¡°How many times have you come back?¡±


    Jovine¡¯s heart stopped. Come back?


    Stumbling, she looked up into his obscure, emerald gaze. Standing in this light, he looked so much like Elias. All knowing and fearfully aware.


    ¡°W-what do you mean?¡±


    He didn¡¯t answer and only stared into her, searching for something she couldn¡¯t offer. It couldn¡¯t be what she was thinking. He couldn¡¯t know¡­ How would he? Yet¡­


    Jovine¡¯s father glanced at the headstones. ¡°Here. To their graves. How many times have you come back?¡±


    She blinked, her heart stuttering. Was that what he really meant? ¡°Many times,¡± she distantly answered, though her mind still whispered suspicions. For a second, she swore he meant something deeper.


    ¡°It all started from their deaths, didn¡¯t it,¡± he muttered. ¡°Alex and Helene shouldn¡¯t have died so soon.¡±


    ¡°Father, do you¡­¡± she hesitated. ¡°Do you know something?¡±


    A muscle feathered in his jaw. ¡°It¡¯s the fact that I know nothing that haunts me every night.¡±


    Reaching out his hand, he evaded any further dwelling on the topic. ¡°I need to go back to Bellbay ¡ª your mother is waiting for me. I will rally supporters and raise banners for your cause. But only when the time is right.¡±


    ¡°I don''t want the family entangled in all this. I can''t have you ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Anything that concerns my children will be my own burden so that I may protect them,¡± he interjected. ¡°You are starting a perilous, but necessary struggle. If fate was kinder, it wouldn¡¯t be your own husband you had to bring down." He looked down at the billowing flowers resting atop the earth. "But even they wouldn¡¯t have wanted their own son to crumble the Empire.¡±


    Jovine grasped her father¡¯s calloused hand, an acid bite of contrition strangling her breath. ¡°She asked me not to give up on him,¡± she hoarsely admitted. ¡°To bring him back.¡±


    His face darkened. ¡°If there was anyone who could, it would have been you. But if it comes at the cost of my daughter, I will not stand for it.¡±


    ¡°I gave up on him," she breathed, voicing the remorse she didn''t realize had been eating away at her.


    ¡°Don¡¯t ever blame yourself for it.¡± The Marquess pressed his lips to her forehead. ¡°I love you, Jovine,¡± he whispered. ¡°Tell Elias I love him as well, will you?¡±


    She gave him a wobbly nod. Before he departed, he caressed her chin and looked at her with a worried, fatherly gaze.


    ¡°Be strong, Your Majesty. The worst is yet to come.¡±

 Just a little while of rest...

    The morose company of the dead was the last place she expected to find the little bit of peace and quiet she had been longing for. Yet, in a way, it made sense that the departed would know the silence she needed.


    Jovine inhaled the warm spring air, ignoring the way her turquoise silk gown grew cold and damp from the wet grass as she sat atop the hill of the Imperial Cemetery. Her heavy eyes traced the view of green mountains filled with colorful blooms still hanging onto the season before the heat would come to wither them away. As the furthest site from the Palace, it felt like she had finally escaped its confines and found herself in some faraway forest where no one would find her. Of course, the thought of crumbling skeletons nestling beneath the ground was a small hindrance to the illusion, but with her back turned away from the headstones, she could neglect that little fact.


    The worst is yet to come¡­


    Her father was right. It would only get messier, more hostile and sinister, but for now, for a just little while longer, Jovine pretended that problems like that were far away in the distance where it couldn¡¯t touch her. Like all great thinkers, she simply chose to avoid the slightest act of running her brain to the ground with more senseless deliberations.


    She smiled. Maybe she should keep it like this¡­flee somewhere where no one knew her and start a quiet life in the woods. Maybe she could forget that people were waiting for her. That there was a purpose she couldn¡¯t discard.


    Maybe she could forget why she came back in the first place. The death that dragged her into this insanity.


    She sighed and rested her chin on her knees. If only it were that easy¡­


    ¡°There you are.¡±


    Jovine jumped, her little bubble of thoughtless delusion rupturing. She swiveled around to see the Grand Duke standing a few arms away, glancing down at her with a pleased glint in his eye.


    She blinked, following his steps as he made his way to her sitting form and dropped down beside her.


    ¡°I know you asked me to wait for you, but I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ve been too impatient lately,¡± he admitted, admiring the view she was just dreaming towards.


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    Her eyes settled on his knot of silver hair tied at his nape, his sharp jaw, his straight nose, his warm eyes when he finally glanced her way. When he smiled, she couldn¡¯t help but return it.


    She was surprised, but she welcomed his presence.


    ¡°Well, you found me,¡± she said, turning away to find solace in her new favorite view again.


    ¡°I did.¡±


    A low hum in her throat was her only response. Her eyes closed as a soft breeze tangled through her unbound hair. The scent of fresh flowers and earthy grass whirled around her.


    ¡°How are you, Your Majesty?¡± Amon softly asked.


    Keeping her eyes closed, she raised a brow. ¡°Are we back to formalities, Grand Duke Amon?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he chuckled. ¡°But seeing you sitting here like this, with the wind in your hair, the sun in your face¡­you seem too regal for me to call you by name.¡±


    She exhaled a laugh. ¡°I have grass stains on my rear and a bug bite inside my gown. Nothing about this should look regal to you.¡±


    ¡°I beg to differ.¡±


    She curved her lips into a small smile. Her head lolled back in a drowsy haze as another wave of green-scented wind grazed her skin. With the cool breeze and the warm sun, Jovine felt content enough to fall asleep right then. A sense of great satisfaction emanated from the wind as it touched her cheek. In her state, it felt solid enough to support her head as she leaned into the pull.


    How kind of the sweet spring air to come to her aid. How friendly, and warm, and¡­


    Familiar.


    The wind. Again.


    Jovine¡¯s eyes flew open. Whipping her head to the side, she clashed with the sight of Amon¡¯s flushed, tensed face and the slight tremble in his clenched hands.


    As the wind picked up again, her fingers reached out into the invisible pressure, testing to see if she could indeed touch it as it had touched her. When a soft draft wriggled around her finger, it felt as if it was intent on holding onto her. She didn¡¯t miss the way Amon¡¯s pupils dilated from the act.


    ¡°I had the strangest thought the last time we met,¡± Jovine baited, studying his expressions with a stoic gaze. Her fingers curled into her palm, an attempt to trap a bit of this curious air that seemed to thrum in her hold. ¡°It must be my own mind playing tricks on me. A mirage or a hallucination on my part.¡±


    Amon never answered. He only kept staring with dark pupils and a thin rim of gold.


    ¡°The idea,¡± she continued, never breaking his stare. ¡°That this wind.¡± Her hand wafted through the air once more. ¡°Is you.¡±


    There it was. The speculation she had been holding back for days until she could speak to him again. The incomprehensible notion that something¡­unnatural was happening around him. Something mystic, enchanting, and unearthly.


    ¡°Is it?¡± she firmly asked once more, needing a direct answer from him rather than a faintly heard hallucination that seemed more and more unlikely as the days passed.


    His fingers twitched, an unwilling jerk that seemed more instinct than calculated, and a wave of air swirled around them, blurring the world outside until her head spun.


    His answer was the same.


    ¡°Yes.¡±

 A Blinding Glow (Part I)

    A breathless gasp caught in the base of her throat.


    "I knew it," she whispered, her eyes trained on the twirling leaves and broken grass blades swept up in a current of clouded air.


    "H-how?" she asked, meeting his unsteady gaze with parted lips.


    A muscle twitched in his jaw as his fingers spasmed into a curled fist. The haze of erratic wind calmed until the mountains came into view again and only a gentle touch of air remained around her ear.


    "It''s new to me too," Amon murmured. He watched the way her hair coiled at her neck from the remnant breeze. "I can''t explain it to you if I don''t know much about it myself."


    Jovine shook her head, refusing to accept such an obscure answer as explanation. She urged him to find the words with her eyes.


    Bringing his hand up, he cupped his palm until the air around her nape departed her skin and entered into an invisible vapor that she could only feel from his extended fingers. A faint, white glow emanated from the center of his palm until she saw the wispy, smoky movements of the wind dancing in his hand. Jovine''s eyes widened, her pulse quickening to the remarkable, fearsome fact that something unnaturally exquisite was true and emerging.


    "A trembling came to Mallory a handful of months ago."


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    Jovine stilled, startled tension brewing under her skin from his admission. A trembling...just as the one that had shaken the Capital on the fearsome night when Richard had returned. Afraid to break the calm facade with her torrent of questions, she never looked away from the whirling wind still flickering in his palm. She let him continue.


    "We are made of ice up in the North, a structure easily shattered by something as forceful as a quaking tremble," he continued in a soft voice. "Our borders were cracked, leaving cities in fear of dark creatures beyond the Northern Woods that olden families would tell ghost stories about. Most likely tall tales people would mutter by the fireplace to entertain, but one can never be too careful."


    This time, she couldn''t help but look up into his golden eyes.


    "Perhaps something did come to visit," he muttered. "How else can I explain why the earth trembled? Why the ice cracked?"


    Her brows bent in bafflement.


    "A blinding glow came over me, Jovine, and it was done." Amon looked down into his glowing palm, and a blink later, the wind died down. "I was different. That''s all I can recall."


    Her heart pounded fiercely. "Just you?"


    "Just me."


    She shook her head, unable to believe it. His version of how was barely an explanation, but she wasn''t any different. Could she explain how she had come back? The rumors in the streets, the trembling that had come to her own city. Nothing could be explained.


    Something he had said, however, struck her cold. "The trembling... Tensions in your Northern Borders," she repeated to herself.


    Was this why the late Emperor and her husband had departed for Mallory?


    Jovine asked him.


    Amon nodded with a dark gleam in his eyes.


    Two tremblings. One death.


    How much of this unfathomable world did they all know nothing about?

 I want her dead

    The incessant pattering of anxious footsteps was on the verge of driving everyone to leap across the room to strangle the source.


    ¡°Your Highness,¡± Lady Abigail sighed, barely wincing when another very expensive porcelain vase of red petunias exploded on the floor.


    Still pacing with careless movements, Emilia Syrene disregarded any notion of sense and continued her theatrics. Arms crossed, biting her nails, her red hair a wild mess under a ridiculous black headpiece as she rambled through the cluttered room ¡ª Lady Abigail scoffed internally. The Royal Concubine was hardly the picture of refinement.


    Abigail flicked a knowing look towards Lord Harrison, prepared to share her exasperation with the man, but he didn¡¯t even spare the scene a glance. He simply sipped on the tea set she had brought, his legs languidly crossed and eyes steadily roaming across the morning¡¯s paper. She withheld another sigh of irritation. She would never know how he could be so unaffected every time Emilia Syrene was in another one of her fits. She could scarcely stomach it.


    Another frustrated snarl gritted out of Emilia as she whipped the heavy piles of twined scrolls and papers taking up the space on her unused desk. ¡°That little SWINE,¡± Emilia shrieked, stomping all over the fallen files that the Empress had sent over. Her bejeweled slippers stained dirty prints on the important agendas.


    The fear-stricken maids scurried over with wide eyes, attempting to clear away the mess, but alas, Emilia shoved them all away in a bout of fury, raging until they scattered out the room.


    ¡°Calm yourself,¡± Lord Harrison blandly voiced, still refusing to look up from what had to be the most interesting periodical in the Empire.


    ¡°Calm myself?¡± Emilia spat, her crazed eyes pinpointing on his indifferent posture. She stumbled over like a drunk and tore the newspaper from his hands. ¡°That maddening whore of an Empress thinks she can slight me like this and you¡¯re asking me to calm myself!?¡±


    Peering at her through his wire-rimmed glasses, Lord Harrison¡¯s face looked positively scathing. Lady Abigail relaxed into the divan cushions with a hidden smirk, anticipating the splendid show she had been waiting for all morning.


    ¡°What exactly is so maddening to you?¡± he asked in a low voice.


    ¡°She ¡ª¡±


    ¡°What could possibly be more maddening than this ceaseless tantrum of yours?¡± he continued, his voice rising with every word.


    Emilia barked out a humorless laugh. ¡°Tantrum¡­ Don¡¯t act like this is unaccounted for when everything has stemmed from your failure. One month of her and her silver-haired lap dog that you allowed into the Court you¡¯ve claimed is under your palm. One month and look what they¡¯ve undone. Do you know how many noble wives have come to the Palace, looking for the Empress instead of me? Do you understand that every single appeal you made me take to Richard is now in the works of being overturned? People are rallying to the Grand Duke. People are starting to favor her again. Richard is starting to YEARN FOR HER AGAIN.¡±


    Harrison Ballio stood to his full height. He was always an unusually stringy man who never had the broad build to intimidate. But only those who could see the full depth of his iron, grey gaze would understand that he had other means to maim a person. Most likely with the use of his barbed mind. Abigail squeezed her thighs together, unwittingly aroused by the image. She wondered distantly if he¡¯d be open to another tumble in the broom closet after this scolding.


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    Snatching her jaw with his skeletal fingers, Lord Harrison looked down at Emilia with disgust. ¡°If anyone has plunged into failure, it is you.¡± His voice was soft, but the deadly edge didn¡¯t escape anyone. ¡°Your only purpose is to keep the Emperor in your hand. To keep him satisfied, enamored, ignorant. Though, from what I¡¯ve heard, he never calls for you anymore.¡±


    Emilia flinched.


    Lord Harrison continued. ¡°Every action that has passed since the Empress brought Amon vel Feyras to the Capital has been tolerated because of the Emperor. He is the one who allowed him into Court. He is the one allowing the approval of their plans. And you are the one who is losing him.¡±


    Emilia tried shaking his touch off, but he only dug his fingers into her chin. ¡°What did you promise me?¡± he uttered under his breath, almost too quiet for Abigail to hear. She scooted closer to the edge of the divan.


    ¡°Your advantage is fading,¡± he whispered. Then his lips disappeared behind Emilia¡¯s ear where his threatening words traveled to one sole location. Abigail seethed in resentment, though the paling, angered face of Emilia Syrene soothed a hint of her ire.


    Shoving him away, Emilia glared piercing daggers into his skull. ¡°Don¡¯t test me,¡± she warned.


    ¡°Or, what?¡±


    Raising her chin, her black eyes spoke for her. She was threatening him with something Abigail couldn¡¯t decipher.


    Lord Harrison scoffed, his arrogant face looking down at her as if she were an unruly child. ¡°Handle it. And if I hear any more of your whining or infantile defiance, I will find another who can do as she is told.¡±


    Flitting his coat behind, Lord Harrison marched towards the door.


    ¡°I want her dead.¡±


    Freezing in his tracks, he turned a glacial gaze towards Emilia¡¯s fuming form.


    ¡°Whatever means or puppet you choose to do your bidding, you and I both know it¡¯ll crumble as long as she breathes,¡± she quivered out. ¡°I want her gone. Dead. Obliterated.¡±


    Lord Harrison stared at her in silence, seeming to taste her words to determine if it was sweet or bitter. When Abigail could no longer stand the suspense, she opened her mouth to intervene until a breathy, chuckling sneer burst from him. ¡°You are still so incredibly moronic.¡±


    ¡°I want her dead. Now.¡±


    ¡°If you honestly think the Empress¡¯s death will ease your path, you are sorely mistaken, you imbecile.¡±


    Emilia clenched her fist, her fury for the woman engulfing her alluring beauty with green jealousy. ¡°I¡¯ll do it myself if I have to.¡±


    Abigail held her breath when a dangerous glint sparked in his eyes. ¡°You will do no such thing.¡±


    ¡°I will ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Abigail,¡± Harrison abruptly called. Lady Abigail stood in anticipation, earnest for his thoughts.


    ¡°Yes, my Lord?¡±


    ¡°Do you understand what she is asking for?¡± he asked.


    Abigail nodded, the first thrill of his malice reaching her head. Was he was asking for the unthinkable? If so, it goaded her.


    Lord Harrison rolled his tongue across his teeth, his brain clearly churning with the outcomes.


    ¡°Do it,¡± he ordered, squinting back at Emilia with distaste. ¡°In the proper way. A way that even I would never suspect.¡±


    A slow smirk stretched across Lady Abigail¡¯s lips.


    Emilia parted her mouth, an ugly smile making its way onto her expectant face. ¡°You¡¯re going to ¡ª¡±


    ¡°You will do nothing in this,¡± Lord Harrison instructed. ¡°Keep yourself away from her. Seek the Emperor¡¯s favor.¡± He flicked a disgusted glance at the messy piles of paper thrown to the floor. ¡°And for God¡¯s sake, do your duties as Royal Concubine. On that, even I agree with our beloved Empress.¡±


    Emilia seethed, looking at the Interior Palace responsibilities that Her Majesty had sent for her to complete. The very duties that every Royal Concubine was expected to do, but ones the Empress had been shouldering alone. Until now.


    Abigail glanced at Emilia, repulsed as well. No matter the opposing side, even she couldn¡¯t help but consider if standing by the Empress would have been the more glorifying one.


    Before Emilia could start raging like a toddler again, Abigail followed Lord Harrison out the door and straight into the nearest empty room where he took his rage out in lust. As they reached their rough ecstasy and his sour breath panted in her neck, another wave of elation rumbled over when he muttered her next task. Explicitly this time.


    Oh, yes. This would be exhilarating.


    She had never done it before.


    How would someone go about the death of a monarch?

 Progress

    ¡°Three sacks for every stall,¡± Jovine muttered under her breath, flipping through the scrolls with a pinpoint focus on the inked pages. ¡°From the Imperial Supply?¡±


    Amon watched her snap a wide-eyed gaze at him across the table. A delicious rush of sensation fluttered through his nerves from the attention. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s never going to pass this.¡±


    ¡°Won¡¯t stop me from trying.¡±


    Although still skeptical, a hint of amusement scattered across her lovely face.


    ¡°It¡¯s outrageous,¡± Elias chimed in from his left, keeping his hands busy with an apple knife and a small block of wood he expertly carved into a small figurine. ¡°I like it.¡±


    ¡°The Council won¡¯t like it,¡± Erin quietly countered from the right.


    Elias smirked, raising his brow at her rare assertion. ¡°Exactly. That¡¯s the beauty of it.¡±


    Erin narrowed her eyes. ¡°No matter how many members of the Western Faction are favored by the Grand Duke, they are still nobles. The proposal won¡¯t even make it to the Emperor.¡±


    ¡°Care to bet on it?¡±


    ¡°Do you gamble on everything?¡±


    Though their mildly heated debate continued, Jovine solely kept her eyes on him. Amon knew she was waiting for him to speak, to explain the absurdity that he couldn¡¯t deny. But if it could keep her eyes on him for a little while longer, he was content to keep quiet.


    She tilted her head, wordlessly urging him to break the tension in the room.


    His fingers flexed beneath the marble table, recklessly directing the soft breeze that drifted through the open window in her Drawing Room. Already content with his intended trajectory, it settled easily around her neck, ruffling her golden hair.


    Jovine twitched, her pointed gaze pinning him down with suspicion when it circled her head.


    Amon suppressed a smile.


    It still astounded him that she was privy to his secret, allowing the wind to touch her as it yearned to reach out. When her fingers tried grasping the air, a thrum of satisfaction rippled through his body. He could sit here all day, with her eyes on his face and her touch in the wind.


    But her pale complexion, the dark circles under her weary eyes, and the concern that she seemed to be losing too much weight broke him out of the stupor.


    She was tired. Overworked for the past month as they tried mending the cracks in the Empire. With one last caress at her cheek, Amon straightened. ¡°The nobles will resist it.¡±


    The room quieted.


    ¡°By hoarding the majority of grains and oil and purchasing every available ration, they¡¯ve been driving the prices up in the cities. Cornering the markets with their abundance of wealth,¡± he continued.


    ¡°And forcing citizens to sell their land for a mere sack of flour,¡± Jovine added, a thread of anger lacing her soft tone.


    ¡°Exactly. The shortage of food is not only their show of affluence but a means of profit.¡±


    Jovine nodded in agreement. ¡°And you¡¯re proposing we release the Palace supply of food to the markets?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Drive the prices down enough for the people and introduce a plentiful stock of food.¡±


    Elias chuckled. ¡°The nobles would lose an obscene amount of money. I like the way your mind works, Feyras.¡±


    Amon smiled, raising a brow at Jovine with a newfound confidence. Her own brother approved ¡ª it did great for his conviction.


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    ¡°It¡¯s brilliant,¡± Jovine softly muttered. ¡°But it¡¯s not the brilliance that limits us. The Emperor will never stand for it, and the Council will have legitimate arguments to counter you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m aware.¡±


    She frowned. ¡°I want it to work, Amon.¡±


    But it won¡¯t.


    Amon heard her unspoken concern.


    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± Erin spoke up, turning to her friend with a determined gleam in her round brown eyes. ¡°I¡¯m skeptical as well, but the Emperor has been surprisingly¡­compliant to the Grand Duke''s proposals. Perhaps it wouldn¡¯t hurt to try this one as well?¡±


    Jovine shook her head. ¡°He¡¯s only stayed quiet because we started small. Nothing insurmountable to undermine him. I don¡¯t want us to lose a hand we¡¯re not ready to play yet.¡±


    Looking him straight in the eye, she continued, ¡°It¡¯s valiant, but it¡¯s something that could smother the small support from the nobles. Even members of the Western Faction have dabbled in market manipulation, and no matter how pliant they may seem, favoring the commoners will be considered as an insult to them.¡±


    He couldn¡¯t argue against that.


    Gnawing the inner flesh of her cheeks, Jovine stood to retrieve another stack of folders balancing on her paper-strewn desk. ¡°But, maybe there¡¯s another way,¡± she muttered to herself.


    The three of them sat in silence, watching her run that beautiful mind of hers. It awed him ¡ª her compassion, her sage acumen of navigating corruption.


    It was a kindness that refused to be weak under the pressures of extortion.


    Amon knew the exact moment the plan came into fruition when her exquisite eyes lit up.


    ¡°I have my own supply of goods reserved. For parties, holdings, banquets, any extravagance I want as an Empress.¡± She turned to them with a spark in her gaze. ¡°You could go to the rebel base. Privately ¡ª yet publicly ¡ª declare your support for the struggling families who are in need of extra food. Personally offer them a source of solace. It would be unofficial, but support and favor for you would rise, Amon.¡±


    ¡°You are entitled to have luxuries as well,¡± Elias immediately pointed out in a low voice. ¡°You¡¯re an Empress.¡±


    ¡°I have no use for this much portion. It could be put to better use.¡±


    ¡°Then give it in your name, Jovine. Not to the rebels, but to the city itself,¡± Elias countered.


    Amon agreed. He wouldn¡¯t take credit for her generosity, especially when she could benefit from the act.


    ¡°No matter where the stock comes from, it needs to be through Amon¡¯s name,¡± she affirmed. ¡°People are rallying to the Grand Duke. Not me. We all know that.¡±


    Sighing in exasperation, Elias threw is hands up in the air.


    Amon frowned. ¡°Jovine ¡ª¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s your plan,¡± she interjected. ¡°What better way to enter the stakes than this? Besides, it¡¯s time we integrate with the rebels. Find out exactly what their ¡®gamblings¡¯ entail, their intentions, their leader. I will go with you and disguise myself ¡ª¡±


    Amon and Elias both straightened, speaking up at once. ¡°No.¡±


    Erin hiccuped as Jovine raised her brows. ¡°I beg your pardon?¡±


    ¡°You will not step foot in that place,¡± Elias commanded, a stern look hardening his features.


    She pointed a bitter look at the both of them. ¡°I will go as I please.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be foolish, Vinnie. It¡¯s dangerous.¡±


    ¡°I can handle myself.¡±


    Elias scoffed. ¡°Until what? Until your involvement is discovered and you¡¯re condemned with treason? Or are you looking to be assassinated?¡±


    Although he bristled at the tone her brother was taking, Amon pleaded with her as well. ¡°Your life would be at risk, Jovine. Please understand.¡±


    She stood back, a fuming detachment seizing her. ¡°I will not ¡ª¡±


    A startling knock echoed through the room.


    ¡°Your Majesty?¡± A primly dressed lady with a sleek black knot at her nape curtsied before the Empress.


    Pressing her lips back together, she gave the woman a tight smile despite the turmoil still burning in her eyes. ¡°Yes, Margaret?¡±


    Lady Margaret swept her eyes through the room, clearly sensing the tension. ¡°The Emperor has requested your presence again.¡±


    Amon tensed, his jaw clenching.


    Promptly rising from her seat, Erin looked to the Empress. ¡°Should we claim you are preoccupied again?¡±


    Jovine squeezed her eyes shut, pressing the pads of her fingers against the bridge of her nose. ¡°No. I¡¯ll go today. You may inform him, Margaret.¡±


    Something unpleasant tightened Amon¡¯s chest. The Emperor had been seeking her frequently. Yet, every time he summoned her, Jovine had declined. Why was she agreeing to see him now?


    As Lady Margaret left the room, Elias threw her a disapproving glance. ¡°Why would you waste your time on that devil?¡±


    Cursing under her breath, she steadied herself against the table. ¡°The Royal Family of Visea will be arriving in a fortnight for the Treaty. I was going to bring it up today,¡± she answered, distraction clear in her weak voice as she massaged her temple. ¡°Rumors of rebellion and the dire state of Theolos will have reached them. I need to convince the Emperor to let me take charge over the preparations and reception. We need them on our side.¡±


    With a stark bleakness weighing her shoulders, Jovine exhaled a shaky breath, assuring them their plannings would continue later in the evening. She started walking towards the door.


    As the entrance clicked shut, a sudden urgency arrested him. Amon jumped to his feet and followed her outside.


    Reaching out, he caught up to her in the hall and took hold of her arm.


    She looked back in alarm at the sudden movement.


    ¡°Don¡¯t go to him,¡± he breathed, his heart galloping in his chest.


    Taken aback, she blinked in confusion.


    Internally berating himself for blurting his thoughts, he corrected himself. ¡°You need a breather. Come with me first. The Emperor can wait.¡±


    If it were up to him, Richard de Tristaine would be left waiting forever.

 Fair Trade

    Slanted pews dug into her lower back. Fractured, colored light cleaved the usual blackness and painted the backs of her eyelids a heavy gold. The scent of grey dust, the sizzling ache in her thighs from sitting upright, even her clammy palms that stuck together from her entwined fingers ¡ª none of the discomfort could take away the stillness in her mind.


    Jovine opened her eyes, her lips whispering the last of her prayer.


    With the heaviness in her chest abated, she glanced up at the white-clothed altar with two candles flickering back at her with warmth. Of all the places she expected Amon to bring her to, the Palace Chapel wasn¡¯t one of them. How did he know this place had been a haven for her? A space she hadn¡¯t been able to retreat to since the work had started. Without asking, he had simply brought her here, wordlessly leading her to the altar and lighting a candle.


    Jovine looked to her side.


    Sitting with his head bowed, eyes closed, fingers laced together, the Grand Duke rested in the quiet. His large, broad presence didn¡¯t seem to belong in such a humble space, but the reverence in his pose and the tinted sunlight throwing shades of red and gold across his sharp features reminded her of one of the angels etched into the mural windows.


    As if he could tell she was staring, a sleek smile tilted his lips, even as he kept his eyes closed. ¡°I admit I also snuck a look¡­I¡¯m glad I¡¯m not alone.¡±


    She faced away from him as he opened his eyes. ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Always in denial, Your Majesty.¡±


    ¡°If you say so, Grand Duke Amon.¡±


    Huffing out a warm laugh, something akin to relief rippled through his expression. ¡°It¡¯s good to see the light back in your eyes.¡±


    She raised her brows in question.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been overworked. Exhausted,¡± he said, roaming his gaze across her face.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    His lips twitched but not enough to hold onto humor. ¡°It¡¯s what you always say, but you don¡¯t have to be.¡±


    A half-smile tilted her lips. ¡°I¡¯m not saying it just for the sake. I say it, because it¡¯s true. In the end, things always fall back into place. I fall back into place,¡± she muttered. ¡°If it doesn¡¯t ¡ª if I don¡¯t believe that it will ¡ª then I suppose that is when I¡¯ve truly lost my light.¡±


    With his stare marked on her face, Jovine looked to the divine decals ingrained into the floor-length glass windows that surrounded every corner of the chapel. Portraits of gilded angels with sweeping white wings danced among a field of wind-blown lilies, but as her eyes traveled the length of the scene, it shifted into darker tones of burnt mahogany and a faded image of a hooded figure kneeling on a bed of thorny roses. A frail hand reached to the thundering skies as droplets of blood rained on his misery.


    The first time she had seen the masterpiece, a sinister sadness had flustered her. She had been young and almost afraid of the bleak landscape in a place she expected would be the one instance of uncomplicated purity.


    Now, however, it was a truth she understood. The angels from a place with no parting, no hurt, no pain, and a being longing for the light. It was poetically tragic.


    ¡°There¡¯s always a bit of light left,¡± she continued to herself. ¡°Even now, I can breathe a little easier. I have you to thank for that.¡±


    When he didn¡¯t reply, his face masked in obscurity and a depth to his eyes that she couldn¡¯t unravel, Jovine wondered if she had needlessly offered him a glimpse into her nonsensical thoughts. It was true she felt strangely weak the past few days, barely able to sleep through the night and feeling like a murky haze was trying to overcome her. Maybe her ramblings were a part of the madness.


    Maybe the toll of her journey had finally come to claim her.


    However, it wasn¡¯t until she noticed a soft pink tinting the apples of his cheek that she realized he was¡­blushing.


    Jovine had to bite her tongue to suppress her amusement. Contrary to her first impression of the Grand Duke, Amon had a sweetly innocent demeanor to his physical prowess. To save them both from the tension, she moved on.


    ¡°Did you know what this place meant to me? Is it why you brought me here?¡±


    Clearing his throat, he replied, ¡°One of your ladies mentioned it in passing.¡±


    ¡°Well, it was thoughtful of you. I¡¯m grateful.¡±


    Noticing the rays of sunlight waning through the colored windows, Jovine took one last breath and stood from the pew, her back begging for a stretch. She wasn¡¯t looking forward to what came next, but too much time had passed already.


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    And, the Emperor had never been a patient man.


    Amon rose with her. ¡°I¡¯d like to walk you back.¡±


    Her immediate response was to politely decline, but she found it hard to voice when he was looking at her with such expectation. She gave an appreciative nod.


    As they exited the chapel, it seemed he wanted to say something more. His fingers gently circled her wrist before they could make it down the steps.


    ¡°I hope you¡¯re not upset with me,¡± he blurted.


    Perplexed, Jovine frowned. ¡°Why would I be upset with you?¡±


    ¡°I crossed a line today going against your involvement with the rebels,¡± he carefully admitted. ¡°But I can¡¯t apologize for it.¡±


    She raised her brows. ¡°Well, now I¡¯m upset,¡± she teased.


    He gave a brief smile before facing her with a hard-set tenacity resolved in his golden gaze. ¡°The value of your life outweighs all of this, Jovine. You have to understand that.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not ¡ª¡±


    ¡°No matter where you stand with him, you are still the crown. If all of this falls, you have to be standing to save it. You have authority¡­impression.¡± His voice turned almost bitter. ¡°I¡¯d even say the Emperor is more inclined to you than you think.¡±


    Jovine shook her head. However, even as she denied it, she couldn¡¯t hide the confusion. Richard was acting out of character. He was quiet, save for the numerous callings for her presence, but even at her refusal, he never demanded for her. He allowed Amon on the Council, didn¡¯t object to his proposals, yet banned him from living in the Palace quarters she had prepared. Jovine couldn¡¯t decide if her husband had taken to his own games of manipulation or if he was on a chase.


    ¡°Are you wavering?¡±


    Roused from her winding thoughts, she focused back on the Grand Duke, who looked more guarded than anything.


    ¡°Is that why you¡¯re not asking for answers?¡± he asked. ¡°Why you¡¯re not asking me about all of¡­this?¡±


    This?


    Understanding dawned on her when a silver glow emanated from his skin before disappearing in a blink. Along with the light, a soft breeze skimmed her bare arms.


    He asked her if she was wavering¡­


    She was. But not for the reasons he suspected.


    Since the night Richard had left with his father, she had been chasing down answers, wanting truth, an interpretation, a sense of definition ¡ª anything that would illuminate the unknown that plagued both her mind and the Empire.


    Yet, now, there was a disturbing sense that made her wonder if the answers she sought would inevitably end in her death. Just as it did before.


    She was afraid it would crumble the small illusion of acceptance she had constructed. Her wavering resolve wasn¡¯t for an unfaithful man who only coveted attention as a challenge. It was for her need to survive.


    Back in the cemetery, she had settled for ignorance. If the world was laughing at her somewhere up in the clouds, watching her stumble over the bits and pieces of information that led to nowhere and everywhere, she was done.


    Knowing wouldn¡¯t sate the burning grievance rushing through her veins or ease the consumption crippling her body. It wouldn¡¯t do a damn thing to keep the people in her life defended.


    ¡°You are wavering,¡± Amon faintly murmured, his face no longer open and a subtle twitch pulsing at his jaw.


    ¡°No, Amon. I''m not¡­¡± When she found it hard to express her thoughts, Jovine reached her hand out, curling her fingers until she felt that familiar pressure holding onto her. ¡°This ability you have is¡­fearfully wonderful. You have magic, Amon.¡± Marveling at the tangibility of this invisible force, she hoped he could see her amazement. ¡°It¡¯s beautiful. And yours. And dangerous.¡±


    Another puff of air leaned against her cheek, a seemingly favorite destination since she first touched it.


    ¡°People would go through depravity for a taste of power like this,¡± she said. ¡°Its very existence ¡ª your existence ¡ª is a threat and an impulse for challenge. Of course, I am wavering.¡± Her voice rang firm. ¡°Answers will bring risk, which will then spiral into chaos. Madness. We are storming into the reckoning, Amon. Plunging ourselves deeper can only end in¡­death.¡±


    If it could preserve the semblance of stability, if it could spare this man of a hardship she knew would come to claim him, ignorance was nothing but security.


    ¡°You¡¯re worried for me,¡± Amon realized.


    ¡°Well, yes, but I¡­¡± She was suddenly at a loss for words, especially with the way he looked down at the ground, his tongue poking his cheek. When he met her gaze, a silent intensity settled between them. Was it gratitude? Understanding?


    Hope?


    His next words confounded her the most.


    ¡°I wish we had more time,¡± he lowly muttered, stepping closer as he removed his long, black coat.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    Amon perched the heavy cloak over her shoulders, the warmth of the velvet-lined cloth enveloping her in the pleasant scent of green air and musk. His large hands smoothed over her shoulders as he raked his eyes over her with a strange blend of regret and satisfaction.


    Before she could question him, he breathed, ¡°It¡¯d make me happy if you could wear this as you go.¡±


    Just then, snapping branches alerted her to another presence encroaching on their small distance of privacy. She swiveled around to find Lord Maximus approaching them with an unspoken apology in his gait.


    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± he bowed. ¡°Please excuse the interruption, but I¡¯m afraid His Majesty¡­¡±


    He didn¡¯t have to finish the thought. The severity of her delay was apparent in his very arrival. She had kept him waiting too long.


    Wrapping the coat around her body, Amon¡¯s abrupt actions now made sense, though she didn¡¯t know how he could hear the incoming intrusion.


    ¡°I understand,¡± Jovine replied to Lord Maximus. ¡°I¡¯ll be on my way.¡±


    Lord Maximus winced. ¡°The Emperor has commanded me to personally escort you. Now.¡±


    Of course he did.


    Nodding, Jovine looked back at Amon. ¡°You have my gratitude for today. Truly.¡± She reached into her bosom, retrieved her embroidered handkerchief, and offered it to him with a light look. Whether he meant it as a kind gesture, a means to aggravate her husband, or even an excuse to come find her, a cloak and a handkerchief seemed like a good a bridge in their newly budding friendship. ¡°Fair trade?¡±


    His throat bobbed as he received her favor, their fingers briefly touching before she pulled back. ¡°Fair trade,¡± he confirmed, his lips curved into a surprised smile.


    With one last look, Lord Maximus walked her to the Emperor¡¯s chambers, an ominous strain weighing on the older man¡¯s reserve.


    ¡°Is he angry?¡± she asked as they clicked through the empty corridors.


    Lord Maximus hesitated. ¡°His Majesty is¡­unsteady.¡±


    She stifled a sigh.


    Of all the ways her husband had been described, unsteady was as ambiguous and vexing as it could get.

 One thing youll always have (Part I)

    Forgoing a proper announcement of her arrival, Lord Maximus led her through a particularly cluttered room instead.


    The ordinary disorder of an unmade bed, the stacked cups of coffee strewn across the floor, or the wrinkled white tunics thrown over the chaise weren¡¯t what made her frown. It was the piles of papers and folders ¡ª all of which were familiar to her ¡ª that were scattered across his oak wood desk. Amon¡¯s proposals. Files and accounts she had confronted him with. All of them were laid out like a question to be mapped, with yellow tabs marking specific passages and small inscriptions she could barely make out.


    She internally shook herself away from the sight, uninterested in dwelling on whatever meaning it held, and settled on where Maximus stopped with his head bowed. He gestured for her to walk through the open balcony door.


    Hesitating at the threshold, her frown deepened. ¡°He¡¯s out there?¡±


    Maximus held the door open with a grimace. ¡°He¡¯s been waiting a long time, Your Majesty.¡±


    Unease bled into her as she thanked him for his escort and crossed the threshold. A gust of chill air greeted her, and she clutched Amon¡¯s velvet cloak tighter against her body.


    The marble deck was spacious and generously furnished with softly cushioned daybeds and settees inviting enough to want to sink into. Along with the hanging lanterns that quietly burned as the sun started to set and the red and gold accents scattered throughout the space, it seemed Richard hadn¡¯t changed much from his father¡¯s favorite spot. The only addition was a glass table covered in a silver cloche and a half-drunken glass of wine.


    Jovine glanced around the terrace. The single time she had been out here was the day after her wedding, when Emperor Alexander welcomed her into his family with a broad smile and grateful words of wisdom she felt too saddened to remember now. Seeing glimpses of his presence made her wonder what it meant to his son to keep those small remembrances, but she wouldn¡¯t care anymore.


    Instead, she slowly walked to the edge and leaned against the railing, taking it as a reprieve that she was alone out here. For now.


    The view was magnificent. Impressive enough to erase the dread prickling her skin. A violet-hued horizon stared back at her, the sun nestling between green mountains. The city itself was further from where she stood, but she saw brick buildings, people who looked like specks in this distance, and the lights that were beginning to kindle for the coming twilight.


    Theolos had always been beautiful. It was a home, a formidable empire, and one she wouldn¡¯t allow to fade away. Jovine gnawed on her inner cheek as her mind wandered. She was here to discuss their upcoming host for Visea Royalty, and the timing couldn¡¯t be worse.


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    Years of peace had lasted since her father¡¯s time. An unnecessary war ended by a precarious treaty was called for renewal every three years. It was ill fate that it landed on her present, the first year of their reign and one that was filled with such internal turbulence. As she knew it, the customs of Visea were firmly reliant on fidelity and organic authority. It would hurt her cause if Amon¡¯s claim was ¡ª


    Jovine froze as large hands balanced on the railing around her, caging her in his arms without touching her. She held her breath when his lips grazed her ear.


    ¡°Was it fun for you,¡± her husband grated out. ¡°Making me wait like that?¡±


    Internally scolding herself for lowering her guard, she clenched her jaw. She hadn''t even heard him approach.


    Richard leaned closer until his hard chest skimmed her back. ¡°You are toeing a very dangerous line, Jovine,¡± he whispered into her neck. He brought one hand to her shoulder and fisted the velvet cloth. ¡°Is this his?¡±


    Without giving her a moment to respond, he peeled the coat from her body and threw it off the balcony. Jovine watched in shock as it fluttered through the air and landed in the dirt floor below the terrace.


    ¡°I never want to see another man¡¯s cloak on you again, do you understand?¡±


    Jovine bit her tongue. Every inch of her wanted to rip into him, but she was unwilling to give the satisfaction of a response. When the heaviness of his own coat fell on her shoulders, she closed her eyes and told herself any barbed words would do nothing for her. It wasn¡¯t until she felt his hands settle on her waist that she jolted.


    ¡°So, we¡¯re opting for silence¡­That¡¯s fine with me,¡± he muttered, though there was a certain hysteria brimming at his voice. A dark chuckle echoed around her as she felt him angling deeper upon her. ¡°Do you know how captivating you are when you¡¯re annoyed? Look at you hiding your eyes from me. It only happens when you want to snap.¡± He moved his lips across her cheek, and whispered, ¡°Or when my head is between your thighs.¡±


    Her eyes flew open, and this time, she did snap. Throwing the coat off her back with a flick of her wrists, she heard more than saw a buckle hitting him in the face from the sudden movement. It allowed her to move away from his grasp.


    From the subtle smell of wine on his lips, it was apparent he was nowhere near coherence for a logical conversation. And she wouldn¡¯t put up with his antics for nothing.


    ¡°You¡¯re drunk,¡± she scowled, dusting her bodice off with a sneer. ¡°We¡¯ll talk when you¡¯re clearheaded."


    Unable to spare him a glance, she swiftly moved for a quiet departure.


    Richard snatched her hand and pulled her back to face him. She looked up to fly a scathing remark or two, but she paused when her eyes focused on his face. It had been weeks since they had really seen each other, but it wasn¡¯t the unfamiliarity that baffled her. It was the shadow under his eyes, the way his mouth turned down, the unkempt nature of his half buttoned shirt, and a wobbly delirium in his gaze. Jovine didn''t understood when Lord Maximus had mentioned him as unsteady. But, now, there was no better word for the state her husband was in now.


    Unsteady.


    The Emperor tightened his grasp on her fingers with a dark look. ¡°I may have had a sip or two, but trust me, I¡¯m more clearheaded than I¡¯ve been.¡± He stepped into her. ¡°I¡¯ve waited for weeks, Jovine. You¡¯re not going anywhere.¡±

 One thing youll always have (Part II)

    Fear rippled through her.


    Richard was cold and callous and ruthless, but she never thought he was capable of real harm. So, why was her pulse racing at the menace in his tone?


    As he pulled her along with a firm hold, the unbearable instinct to escape him twisted her arm until she was shaking off his touch. When he let go, Jovine cradled her hand, her body swaying from a terrible disquiet that rooted her on the spot.


    Swiveling around with a look of frustration, Richard moved to surge into her again when he froze. A look of morbid realization flooded his eyes before he stumbled back away from her.


    "Damn it, Jovine. Don''t look at me like that," he faltered. "I''d never hurt you."


    Through the fog of abating distress, Jovine couldn''t help but meet his stung gaze with disbelief. "You''d never hurt me?"


    Was he truly heartless enough to ignore their affliction?


    Hurt was embedded in their marriage like a poisoned thorn that shredded and maimed. Perhaps he''d never inflict bodily harm, but there were pains that never stemmed from blood but misery instead.


    By the way he avoided her eyes, he understood her implication but refused to address it. Instead, he redirected his focus to the covered glass table.


    Stalking over with a new uncertainty waning the anger that had permeated him before, he lifted the silver cloche to unveil what looked to be an extensively prepared dinner.


    He sighed in exasperation, looking more wary than angered. "I''m asking for a meal. Can you handle that much?"


    An immediate frown dented her brows. He was acting with unprecedented notions and that unnerved her the most. "I''m not hungry."


    "Sit down, Jovine," Richard muttered. "You look as if you''ve barely taken care of yourself, much less taken a proper meal. You look terrible."


    "You look worse than I do."


    His lips twitched. "I can''t argue with that. Now, stop arguing with me and sit down. It''s the least you could do when you''ve kept me waiting this long. "


    He waited by a chair, gesturing for her to seat herself. When she remained still, staring back at him with distrust, a muscle feathered at his jaw.


    "I know you only showed because you need something from me. Would you rather I call for you again tomorrow?"


    No, she wouldn''t.


    Shaking herself out of the dread that had overcome her, Jovine reluctantly seated herself on the cushioned chaise. She wanted nothing more than to leave him to his temper, but there were matters more important than his volatile dramatics. She would get him to agree to her proposition, retreat to her chambers, take a hot bath, and settle in bed for an early night.


    She could use a good night''s sleep for once.


    Richard perched a warm blanket over her bare shoulders before settling across the table. With the growing nip to the evening air, Jovine couldn''t refuse the warmth and huddled into the soft fabric. She ignored the pleased hum that sounded across from her.


    As he started piling small cream sandwiches and a handful of plump, ruby strawberries onto a large porcelain plate, Jovine began. "Our host for Visea ¡ª"


    He stopped her with a click of his tongue, placing the crammed plate in front of her. "Eat first. Then, we''ll talk."


    "I told you, I''m not hungry."


    "Eat, Jovine."


    "I am not here for a social call."


    "Just eat," he sighed. "Please."


    She narrowed her eyes. The switch in his demeanor was stark and baffling. A subtle thread of unleashed anger still simmered near the surface, but a new dejection slackened his expression. He almost looked afraid of offending her.


    Jovine glanced down at her overflowing plate, noticing that he had stacked several chocolate sweets and sugared delicacies she had enjoyed in the past. In fact, the overwhelming assortment of goods on the table were laid out like a display of sweetened excess. Sweet cream sandwiches, honey-braised meats, strawberry spiced candies.


    A wave of nausea overcame her as she witnessed the overabundance. Families in the outer cities were settling for mere scraps and grains, and here they were in a towering castle, stuffing their faces with enough food to feed a small village. On the verge of making herself sick, Jovine blindly picked the blandest offering she could find ¡ª a fresh dinner roll glazed in honey butter.


    Her husband scoffed. "I''ve known you for years, Jovine. When have you ever gone for bread before a piece of chocolate to sate your sweet tooth?"


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    Jovine bit into the soft bun, swallowing it down as she gazed back indifferently. "I no longer crave them as I used to."


    Richard frowned.


    "I''ve eaten. Will you listen now?"


    "You act as if it''s a crime for a husband to dine with his wife," he said with displeasure. "Especially one that''s been ignoring him for days on end."


    She could have laughed at him right there. His hypocrisy was blinding.


    "Not a crime. More like a pest." She lifted the corner of her lips in a mocking smile. "You know the feeling."


    Richard ripped his gaze from her, his fingers clenching at the table.


    "I want to oversee the reception for the Visea Royals," she calmly redirected. "I will handle their stay at the Palace and the banquet celebrations."


    He breathed a bitter laugh. "And why would I let you do that?"


    "Am I not the Empress?"


    "What schemes are you up to now, Jovine?"


    His suspicions were expected, but she had to consciously lock her body to stop herself from fidgeting under his piercing stare. "Do you question my duties, Your Majesty?"


    Rubbing a hand across his jaw, she could see the calculation flickering in his eyes. "Fine."


    Her eyes widened. It was too easy.


    "On one condition," he added, a thoughtful intensity bruising her from across the table.


    She internally cursed. "And what might that condition be, Your Majesty?"


    "You."


    Jovine stilled.


    "I want to see you more," he vacantly said. "Dinners, walks in the Garden, reading in the Library ¡ª I don''t care what, I just want you to leave a portion of your time for me."


    She scowled. "And why would you want that?"


    Richard raised a brow. "Is it wrong for me to spend more time with my wife?"


    "It''s unnecessary," she argued. "And a waste of time."


    He leaned forward, reaching for her hand. When she flinched away from his touch, a grim bitterness flashed across his face. "Look at us. I''m trying to mend this drift, Jovine. I gave you space, waited until you came to me. Haven''t you had enough? No more of your charades or your lies. No more of this foolish notion of involving someone like Amon to get to me."


    "Your ego will never fail to astound me," she murmured. "No matter his significance to me, Amon is good for this Empire. You''ve been amenable to his work within Court. You''ve seen his value. Is it only about pride for you?"


    He recoiled, sneering at her words. "Is that what you think?" His voice rose until his weakly-restrained anger broke the surface. "You don''t think I saw you, heard you, in every single scroll he''s been sending my way? Your voice is entangled in every word, every idea. I''m not amenable to him. I''m amenable to you!"


    The heaps of marked papers on his desk flashed across her mind.


    When she stayed silent, unable to comprehend his clashing actions, he exhaled a shaky laugh. "How long will you keep up this pretense with him, Jovine? I know you better than anyone. Do you think I can''t see through you?"


    "Your unwavering faith in me is almost flattering," she said in a hollow voice.


    He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Don''t you understand? I trust you, Jovine."


    Trust. The word pierced through her.


    "If there''s one thing you''ll always have of me," he continued, meeting her frozen stare with heavy eyes. "It''s my trust. So, just stop all this nonsense. I won''t believe you."


    Her jaw clenched.


    What was he playing at?


    "You trust me," she repeated. "Why? Because I loved you?"


    This time, he flinched.


    "Don''t trust me," she said, a calm indifference washing over her. "I''m volatile. And you can damn well be sure I have more respect for myself than you think."


    "What are you trying to say?" he bit out unsteadily.


    "You once told me you didn''t choose me. I never chose you either."


    "Jovine."


    "I was raised to be yours, so how could I have chosen anything but you?" Jovine muttered. "But I''m choosing differently this time. Can you understand what that means?"


    An abrupt withdrawal dawned upon her husband. His face was blank, eyes guarded, fists clenched until his knuckles whitened. From the way his chest was rapidly rising and the tick in his jaw, he was doing everything not to lash out and act on something he''d regret in the morning.


    He closed his eyes, took a breath, and looked back at her with a chilling civility.


    Coolly unfolding a cloth napkin, he started piling his own portion of food onto his plate. By the looks of it, one would assume they had just finished a pleasant conversation about the weather. "I will see you tomorrow evening and then every other day of the week. If you uphold my condition, you may do as you wish with our host for Visea." He glanced up at her with feigned courtesy. "Good night, Jovine."


    He was dismissing her.


    Without another word, she stood. She could sulk about his condition later, but for now, she would take his dismissal as a relief. She couldn''t bear to look at him any longer.


    As Empress Jovine left, her face stone cold and empty, Richard dropped the ladle he had been using to scoop a serving of warm lamb stew. When her exit was confirmed by the loud click of his chamber doors, he looked down to find his hands trembling. Lifting his shaking fingers, he clawed at his chest.


    What was this feeling?


    Why did he feel so hollow?


    Just the thought of her with another man turned his vision red, but he meant what he said. He trusted her. No matter how far they drifted, she would never stray from him. She''d never go against her morals of steadfast loyalty to her vows. Her vows to him.


    And he had Emilia, someone who served at the whim of his pleasure, who worshipped the ground he walked upon. But, nowadays, he could barely spare his mistress a thought when his mind was preoccupied by his distant wife.


    He wasn''t the one who cared, so why did it enrage him to hear from Maximus that she was with Amon while he waited for her? Why did it pain him to see a moment of fear in her eyes when he touched her?


    Why did it panic him to think she might not be lying?


    Staggering away from the table, Richard stumbled to the balcony railing and leaned against it. His fingers never stopped trembling on the cold marble and his breaths came in erratic thrashes.


    I don''t believe you.


    It was all he could think as he hunched over, attempting to swallow some air. As his lungs worked furiously, a familiar flash of gold drew him up out of his hysteria.


    There she was. His wife. Kneeling by the bushes to retrieve another man''s coat. Jovine stood, brushing off the dirt from the velvet fabric, her hands no longer wearing his ring.


    A new bout of rage overcame him, and he opened his mouth to call her name, but no sound emitted from his burning throat. As if she knew he was watching, she paused in her movements, awareness stilling her breaths.


    Look up at me.


    Look at me.


    Look.


    She never looked. She only left.


    "Your Majesty?" Maximus''s startled voice sounded behind him before he felt the man clutching his shoulder to support his unsteady form. "Your Majesty!"


    "She''s not looking at me anymore," he rasped, leaning so far over the railing he would have fallen like his mother if he wasn''t held back by a distressed Maximus. He just wanted one more glimpse of her. To see if she would look at him.


    I don''t believe you, he thought to himself over and over again.


    I


    Don''t


    Believe


    You.

 Bane

    There was a numbing quiet underwater that she couldn''t resist. Her lungs burned, but it helped muffle his voice in her head.


    I trust you, Jovine.


    She sank deeper, her fingers digging into her palms.


    One thing you''ll always have of me...


    Tepid water filled her breaths until her head screamed.


    Trust.


    Jovine lurched out of the water, gasping for air.


    She glanced around the steaming bathing chamber, dark spots scattered across her vision as she sat in the wide marble tub. Still furiously panting, she drew her legs into her chest and rested her forehead against her knees.


    Damn you, Richard. Damn you.


    She only wanted a restful night. A hot bath before bed. Maybe even a cup of honey tea to soothe the churning in her gut. But she couldn''t stop thinking of his damn words.


    He was a hypocrite. A scoundrel. A deception. And she hated him.


    But, did she have the right to deny his claims?


    Jovine dug her forehead deeper into her bony joints.


    He refused to believe any infidelity on her part because he was right. Her vows were sacred to her ¡ª her loyalty a burden. He deserved every ache and humiliation, but she couldn''t bring herself to do anything further than lie. Act. Deceive.


    I want you to hurt, she thought. I want you to feel as I do.


    But not at the cost of her identity.


    As a wave of exhaustion overcame her, Jovine abruptly stepped out of the steaming tub, the scent of citrus and orchids clinging to her dripping body. Wrapping herself in a fleece robe, she swiped a hand over the fogged mirror and stared into a pair of dead, turquoise eyes. It seemed even her eyes couldn''t hide the distress.


    Trailing her fingers across her skin, Jovine traced the sharpness to her face. Her cheeks were hollowed, her bones stuck out, and there were deep-set shadows beneath her eyes.


    Was it the stress overwhelming her body?


    No matter the fact that she slept through the night, rest never found her. She ate despite her absent appetite, but it never filled her.


    Was she breaking again? Just as she did before?


    A heavy sigh lodged in the base of her throat. "You''re a sorry mess," she spoke into the mirror. "Pull yourself together."


    Clearing her head of every thought, Jovine went through the soothing motions of routine. She dried herself with a soft cloth. Slathered an aromatic tea balm on her skin. Brushed the tangles out of her hair with a fine-toothed comb. Anything to keep her mind off the enraging man she had to call her husband.


    Thump.


    Jovine straightened, her pulse jolting.


    Click. Thump. Thump.


    The subtle snap of her chamber door closing and slow measured footsteps struck her still.


    Erin was out for the night in the city with a family friend, and Jovine had dismissed her other ladies to be alone. She wasn''t expecting anyone else.


    Grasping her comb in a death grip, she quietly stepped up to the closed door of her bathing chamber. The sound of heavy, shuffling steps neared the wooden door.


    It had to be one of the maids, coming in to light some incense or to drop off a tea set. However, a pinch of fear squeezed her chest. Gently gripping the latch, she turned the knob and flung the door open.


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    Whoosh.


    She jumped out, her measly comb pointed at the deadly edge of a silver steel sword that was directed at her throat, and a gasp caught in the air.


    "Your Majesty?"


    Recognition froze her, though it did nothing for the harsh breaths stuttering out of her parted mouth. "Duncan?"


    Standing before her in leather armor and muddy boots, a rugged middle-aged man with curly sable locks and a full beard quickly retreated from a position of attack and fell to his knees in shame.


    "Please forgive me, my Empress!" he rushed out in a gravel voice. "Your ladies were gone, and I feared someone had gotten to you in my absence."


    Jovine exhaled in relief, her hand clutched over her pounding chest. The man was as intimidating as they came, but Duncan Hamish was familiar to her as her own family. As the Marquess''s most trusted guard, she had known him as a child and was even relieved when she found that he had stayed behind to protect her at her father''s request. Along with his twin sister Dana, who was most likely planted outside her palace with a scowl, they were fearsome protectors Edward Rainer favored.


    "Please rise, Duncan," she urged, pulling at his thickset arms. "I was simply alarmed. I didn''t expect you for another day or two."


    "Neither was I," he said, hesitantly standing with his eyes averted from her state of her undress.


    Immediately conscious of only donning a wet robe, Jovine stepped back and crossed her arms. "If you''re back this soon, does that mean you were able to..."


    Duncan reached into his cloak and promptly handed her a bound ledger. "My report of all I could find about her. Just as you requested."


    She accepted the thin draft of papers, a frown creasing her brows. "I trust you didn''t run into any trouble?"


    "None I couldn''t handle," he nodded. "However, I did run into Lord Rainer on my way back."


    She straightened. "Easton?"


    "Elias."


    Her eyes widened, but she wasn''t surprised. Of course, he had intercepted even this small secret. "Does he know?"


    "No, but he did want me to pass a message to you." He gestured to the record, and she noticed a folded note sticking out of the front page.


    "I see," she sighed. "You did well, Duncan. Thank you."


    "Your Majesty, one of my findings ¡ª"


    Jovine clutched the bound record. "Let us debrief tomorrow morning," she interjected. "I''d like the night to read over it first."


    Duncan closed his mouth. "Of course. I''ll leave you to rest."


    With one more bow and a tense grimace, he retreated to the hall where he would stand guard all night.


    Once she was alone, Jovine stalked over to the nearest divan and seated herself with bated breath. Duncan was thorough and a briefing over his report would have been insightful, but Jovine wanted a chance to process it for herself. However, before she could delve into Duncan''s report, she unfolded her brother''s note first.


    I was worried you''d gotten complacent. Are you finally giving her hell?


    P.S. I''ll be away for a day or two. Don''t miss me too much.


    As exasperated as she was that he saw through her every single time, her lips twitched. He was always too perceptive for his own good.


    Settling in the cushions, uncaring of the way her damp robe made her shiver, Jovine sifted through the bound records to read over the investigation she ordered Duncan to overtake.


    An investigation of Emilia Syrene.


    Her efforts may have been occupied by the Empire, but she didn''t forget of the mistress who had murdered her. It was, after all, the reason she was back.


    Revenge.


    Justice.


    She didn''t abandon any of it. Nor was she complacent.


    Emilia had been quiet for the past few weeks. Too quiet, stuffed in her room instead of hosting the lavish banquets and tea parties she always insisted, and strangely missing from the Emperor''s chambers.


    She was hiding from something. Or waiting. Jovine couldn''t know.


    So, it was only time to burrow into the past of the Empire''s little red-haired Royal Concubine.


    Gnawing on her inner cheek, Jovine began to scan over Duncan''s report of the city Fane, the town Emilia called home before Richard. Most of the pages were scribbled notes, names, places, dates, but at the very end, a neatly penned report listed his findings. Her blood stirred as she read through his paragraphs.


    The known story of Emilia Syrene was of an impoverished young woman who was sent to live with her great aunt in the Capital after her father''s untimely death in the winter. Taking on a vocation for song, her voice captured the attention of Lord Harrison Ballio at a local tavern, in which he later invited her to the Coronation to share her talents as his gift.


    A morose dejection shadowed her when Duncan''s words mirrored the same terse story. There was nothing new.


    But as she neared the end, a highlighted note turned her blood cold.


    Emilia of Fane was known to the townspeople as a shy, meek girl , a butcher''s daughter, not a singer, with shorn brown hair and doe brown eyes.


    Emilia of Fane was said to be mute.


    Mute?


    Her hands quivered uncontrollably.


    How could Emilia Syrene be a mute?


    - - -


    The late night bled into darkness as sleep ultimately took Empress Jovine. Her frail fingers crumpled over pieces of paper and her head lolled on the divan cushions, searching for respite, when a small figure stepped into the room.


    Softly pacing to the far corner of the Empress''s private chambers, the small figure placed a red candle in a hanging sconce by the closed windows. With shaking fingers, it lit a small flame upon it and abruptly fled with a cloth over their mouth.


    Still shackled in a fitful sleep, Empress Jovine was unaware of the sickly sweet smoke that slithered through the air and surrounded her in its bane.

 The Old Man

    Twenty eight miles from where Empress Jovine succumbed to a septic slumber, her hooded brother balanced on a rickety rooftop, comfortably splayed out as if he wasn¡¯t mere seconds from collapsing into the earth.


    Cracking open a walnut, Elias Rainer leaned against the clay tiles and counted every cricket chirp singing in the air. He crunched on the pit, bored out of his mind and wishing he had a bottle of rum to wash it all down, but there was an unmistakeable thrill that kept him patient.


    Click.


    The little chirping bastards stopped singing.


    Elias closed his eyes, a wicked smile stretching across his face


    ¡°Did you get it all?


    Grating scrapes on the cobblestone street were all that answered the hushed man¡¯s whispers.


    ¡°Quick, light it up.¡±


    Swoosh.


    The first lick of smoke snaked through the night. Elias leaned over the rooftop to join in on the fun.


    As he expected, three heavily cloaked figures stood across a lavish building ¡ª possibly the best looking one in this modest town ¡ª with lumpy sacks of stolen goods settled beside them. The structure was a stunning ebony wood with tasteful glass windows, but the true masterpiece was how divine it looked engulfed in red flames. Inhaling the fumes, Elias crouched on his knees with renewed glee shining in his green eyes.


    The men stayed to watch their good work, no thoughts of fleeing the scene dawning upon them. Instead, they waited for the wood to char, a few beams to collapse, until they hoarded buckets of water to cease the fire. It look long moments to dissipate, but by the end, what used to be a gentleman¡¯s club was now a seared message to the noble who owned it.


    We can burn you.


    What a beautiful sentiment.


    ¡°He¡¯ll be waiting,¡± a stocky man murmured, rapidly collecting any remaining sacks. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here.¡±


    ¡°I still think we should have incinerated it.¡±


    ¡°You want the whole town to burn?¡±


    ¡°Silence,¡± a woman hissed. ¡°We know what we had to do. Now, we leave.¡±


    Elias tilted his head, resting his chin on his knuckles as he watched them scatter apart ¡ª all three of them leaving in different directions. One North, one South, another West. In the blink of an eye, their bobbing hoods vanished into long, dark alleyways.


    He smirked.


    Oh, they were making it too exhilarating for him. He loved a good chase.


    Slinking down the pipes of the old antique store with the rickety roof, Elias glided through the shadows, barely a silhouette that reflected from the crescent moon. He swished past brick alleyways and bound himself to the walls, his eyes traveling along the outlines along a dirt path. The dark was his friend, the thrill a high that added a little skip to his step. He could practically smell the burnt ashes clinging to his hooded strangers.


    Elias stopped short behind a large shed. Still intertwined within the heart of the village, he watched the three figures converge in a narrow backstreet. They seemed to be waiting for nothing, their bodies still and unmoving, when a fourth hooded form joined them from the shadows.


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    This one towered over the rest, his stature broad and enigmatic.


    Thoroughly intrigued, Elias inched closer for a better look at the man¡¯s face.


    Unlike his arsonist strangers, who kept their appearances disguised in the safety of their cloaks, the towering, mystery man unveiled his face. The man¡¯s lips moved in a quiet whisper, directing orders, but all Elias cared for was the reveal of his long graying beard on an elderly lined face.


    Old. Graying beard. Large frame.


    Just as Jovine described him.


    His lips twitching in triumph, a fizz of adrenaline pumped through his veins. He had an inkling who this man was ¡ª the depth of his energy felt commanding enough to speculate. And by the way his three companions dispersed without another word, Elias had it right from the start.


    This man was a leader.


    A rebel.


    A mystery.


    Just as he hoped.


    Elias steadied his body, waiting for him to retreat just so he could follow him to wherever a man like him ended his nights. Would it be the underground rebel base? A tavern to drown his troubles? A small-town cottage where he tended to his goats?


    Whatever it was, he would find out.


    But the man never moved. He only stood still, looking off into a distance that didn¡¯t exist in that cramped alleyway. Restless for some action, Elias crunched on the gravel dirt with his boots and relished the sharp crackle echoing through the air.


    The old man smirked.


    Elias straightened, taken aback. He shifted his eyes around, wondering if another hidden comrade was expected. When no one emerged, he looked back.


    The old man was gone.


    A filthy curse exploded out of him as he raced toward the alleyway. He was meant to be two steps ahead, not a sprinting idiot chasing after an old man who should have been stumbling with a bad back.


    In a haze and with no regard to keep to the shadows, Elias tracked every crevice of that damned alleyway. Taking to the streets, he rapidly stepped through town, his eyes sharpened on every movement and his ears twitching at the smallest sound.


    He had questions to find. Answers to deliver.


    Jovine was waiting. He wouldn¡¯t let her down.


    Elias briskly rushed through another narrow passageway mere blocks from where the old man disappeared when an abrupt awareness prickled the back of his neck.


    Someone was behind him.


    Falling to his knees like deadweight, Elias swiveled around and drew his dagger toward a pair of lengthy legs. He moved to slash its knees, but it evaded his mark with unprecedented reflex. His gaze darkening, Elias followed its peripheral movement and swung lightning strikes towards the man, aiming for his chest, eyes, groin ¡ª all lethal points of destruction ¡ª but he was only met with air.


    Unable to withstand the vulnerability, he raced towards the walls, bounced off the slanted bricks and flew through the air. Landing in front of his target, Elias pointed his knife at the man¡¯s throat.


    A pair of dark eyes stared back at him.


    Bingo.


    ¡°For an old man, you¡¯ve got some spunk,¡± Elias spat, hating how far he had to stretch his arms to keep the dagger pointed at the man¡¯s neck. His height was too much of a disadvantage.


    The old man raised his hands in surrender, his bearded lips still curved into a smirk.


    Elias stepped back and circled him with his knife still aimed. Now was his chance. ¡°Tell me, old man. Do you dream of a world ruled by magic?¡±


    The man¡¯s face was unreadable as he lowered his arms. ¡°I dream of a world free of it.¡±


    Elias ran his tongue across his teeth. His next words were an ignorant gamble. ¡°You¡¯re not a Dreamer.¡±


    The old man barked out a harsh laugh, his gravel voice grating against his ears. ¡°Do you even know what Dreamers are?¡±


    ¡°Tell me.¡±


    The man slowly spun along as Elias continued circling him. ¡°Dreamers no longer exist.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°Dreamers are fanatics. Deranged. A cult that feeds off trickery and darkness.¡± The old man raised a brow. ¡°Do you believe in magic, boy?¡±


    Elias narrowed his eyes.


    ¡°They dreamt of a world ruled by magic, but only if it stemmed from darkness,¡± he whispered. ¡°They worship an entity they will never understand.¡±


    Elias lifted his chin, seeking his intent. His sincerity.


    ¡°They paid the price of corruption. And if you dig deeper, you will too, Elias Rainer.¡±


    Elias froze.


    His instincts urged him to carve the man¡¯s heart out of his chest, but there was a glint of fascination that resonated between them. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t trade names in the night, boy.¡±


    ¡°Yet, you called mine.¡±


    The old man shrugged. ¡°An obligation for someone like me. Knowing everyone and no one at once.¡±


    ¡°Is that how you recognized my sister in that tavern?¡±


    For once, he caught the man speechless.


    Lowering his dagger, Elias stepped back, picking the man apart with his splintered mind. ¡°You started all this, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    The man didn¡¯t answer.


    ¡°Who is Amon vel Feyras to you?¡± Elias asked.


    The old man¡¯s hoarse voice rang in the dead night. ¡°A second chance.¡±


    ¡°Who is Harrison Ballio?¡±


    ¡°A swine.¡±


    Elias sucked in his cheeks. ¡°Emilia Syrene?¡±


    ¡°A sin.¡±


    ¡°Jovine de Tristaine?¡±


    ¡°A saint.¡±


    Elias inhaled and leaned against the wall. ¡°Richard ¡ª¡±


    A vile grimace twisted the old man¡¯s weathered face.


    ¡°The damned.¡±

 A Blinding Glow (Part II)

    He was damned.


    Sitting in his sparsely furnished tavern room, Amon vel Feyras hunched over a scarred wooden desk and cradled his head. The crumbling leather-bound notebook was splayed out in front of him like a taunting menace, and he didn¡¯t know if it made him want to retch or heave the little damn book across the room.


    He had told his mother he wanted nothing to do with it. There was no part of him that wanted to be curious about a man who was already gone, but the woman was cunning enough to bury the thing in his travel case, right under his last pair of clean trousers.


    His leg jittered under the desk as his eyes stared through the wobbly scrawl inked into the brittle parchment.


    Noah vel Feyras.


    It was written on the last few pages. Five thousand one hundred and fifty times. He counted every single one of them.


    The unending name of the man who had sired him. His birth father. The man who died before Amon could take his first breath.


    He harshly ran his fingers through his silver hair. With the faint light of his burnt candle slowly dwindling into hardened wax, Amon rifled through the man¡¯s personal mania again. His dreams. His obsessions.


    He was a madman.


    Someone who was lost and desperate for glory, who poured the lunacy of his twisted mind into senseless scribbles, pages full of ripped frustration, and insights that spiraled into nonsense. It was almost terrifying to see this small glimpse of his dead father.


    But there were paragraphs he couldn¡¯t neglect. Words that shook him to his very core.


    The earth has infected me with the ore of its glow.


    No one can control. They will never understand. It is separate. A being. One with a mind of its own that only allows me to move it.


    I am drowning in this glory. I am water and nothing more.


    I am afraid.


    Amon read it to himself over and over again, his fingers clenched and bloodless. The untidy scribbles should have sounded like madness, but it spoke to him like a solace instead.


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    Because it was a reflection of his own fear. The terror that had clawed into his bones when the earth trembled and blinded him, trapping him in flurries for days. He was alone and afraid and half convinced he had truly gone mad as the wind seeped into him like a poison.


    It took days before he could finally move without a blast of air surging into him.


    Amon quivered as a rush of wind swirled around him, shooting his palms open until a soft glow emanated through his veins ¡ª almost like it had an unstoppable urge to remind him just how bound he was to it all. To remind him that the wind wasn¡¯t his reign.


    It was an extension of himself, but individual. An entity that reflected his subconscious.


    Just when he thought he had a hold on it, it was erratic. Right when he felt a breath of release, it was wild and reaching out despite his better judgment.


    In times of anger. Agitation.


    And lately, just for her.


    It held a fondness and affinity for her.


    Jovine.


    Amon unclenched his opposite hand and watched her soft handkerchief flatten against his palm. It was a beautiful gold fabric that reminded him of her hair with striking embroidered songbirds stitched into the corners. Every inch of this traded beauty held her essence ¡ª in the intricate detailing from her steady fingers to the scent of citrus blooms that wafted into his nose.


    The wind caressed the fabric, pleased with it as well.


    She was too good for this world.


    Too good for him.


    Dread and affliction flooded him as his eyes traveled further into his father¡¯s next passage.


    This infinite earth has finally breached its hidden glow.


    Bloodline and claim will survive it.


    Mine.


    Only mine.


    The rest


    I erase


    You¡­


    This time, a name was inked into the following pages nine hundred and ninety nine times before it streaked into broken pigment.


    Tristaine. Tristaine. Tristaine. Tristaine.


    Amon closed his eyes.


    There was only one interpretation he could muster. One way to make sense of all the nonsense.


    Magic had been buried deep within the earth, and a trembling unleashed its glow.


    The infection was only for chosen bloodlines.


    Royal bloodlines.


    Amon vel Feyras clutched Jovine¡¯s handkerchief with unease, hating himself for wanting the next few thoughts to be untrue.


    If Noah vel Feyras was more than just a rambling madman ¡ª if he spoke a truth instead of illusions ¡ª Richard de Tristaine should have been infected in the trembling.


    Just as he had.


    His head pounded has he thought back to all the times he had scented dark magic on the Emperor. The potency of its stain always traveled through the wind when they were near.


    What did it mean?


    Was the Emperor corrupted by his own force of darkness, or was there another unknown claim who abused it?


    He could never decipher if the scent belonged to the man himself or if the stench was foreign and invasive.


    Richard de Tristaine... What was he?


    A tyrant?


    Or a victim?

 Exciting News!!

    Hi everyone!!


    Renouncing the Emperor''s Heart will be exclusively available on the platform Tapas as a Premium Novel!! My very first upload was on Tapas, and now, after a year, Renouncing the Emperor''s Heart has been given this truly wonderful opportunity!


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

 New Chapter Uploaded!!!

    Hello everyone!!


    I''ve missed you all and hope you had a wonderful, safe start to the new year ??


    A new chapter ¡ª "What more than Death?" ¡ª has been uploaded to my Tapas story page and is still free to read!Stolen story; please report.


    https://tapas.io/episode/3411924


    Thank you all so much for your patience and for sticking with me through this transition. Appreciate you all so incredibly much ??????


    Love,


    Grace Jayn

 Deprivation (New Chapter Uploaded!!!)

    A new chapter ¡ª "Deprivation" ¡ª has been uploaded to my Tapas story page and is still free to read!


    Preview:


    Richard shoved his hands into his pockets, his eyes trained on the cobblestone path as he walked the Palace Gardens with his stubbornly wordless wife.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Of all the ways she could have punished him, her silence was the most tormenting.


    https://tapas.io/episode/3431438


    Love you all ??

 No longer in love

    A new chapter ¡ª "No longer in love" ¡ª has been uploaded to my Tapas story page and is still free to read!


    Preview:


    It took days ¡ª seven exactly ¡ª to lure his Empress out of stubborn silence.


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    Garden walks were no longer a remedy, so Richard tried dinners in the Hall, reading in the Library, afternoon teas, indulgent cake tastings, live music in the Throne Room. He tried every attempt to soften her empty, cold demeanor and it still wasn''t enough.


    She was tormenting him with wordless spite, her unflinching gaze, and it drove him mad.


    https://tapas.io/episode/3438599

 Blood

    A new chapter ¡ª "Blood" ¡ª has been uploaded to my Tapas story page and is still free to read!


    Preview:


    Jovine sped through her chambers, barely aware of who was present, or the distant call of her name. Rushing into her bathing room, she slammed the door shut and headed for a spare cloth folded neatly by her wash basin.


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    The unpleasant scent of metal and her disoriented sight preceded what she knew was coming.


    Jovine abruptly snatched the white fabric, but she was too late.


    https://tapas.io/episode/3457652


    ***


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