He snatched it away from her, his glare intense on her before he read the message.
“A message from Grandmother,” he said. “The revolution has been crushed in its infancy, and she says that all is well.”
Amara nodded. “You can see that she asks me to return immediately to the Jewel for my Ascension.”
“Yes, you’ve been empress in name only up until now, haven’t you? Must have the Ascension ceremony to make everything binding for all eternity.” He scrunched the message up and let it fall to the floor. “Why tell me this, Amara? Do you wish for me to congratulate you?”
“No.” She took her hand off her dagger and began limping in short, nervous lines, the pain in her bound leg a welcome distraction. “I came here to tell you that I . . . I regret very few decisions I’ve made these last months, but I deeply regret how I’ve treated you. I’ve been horrible to you.”
Ashur gaped at her. “Horrible? You stabbed me in the heart.”
“You betrayed me!” This came out close to a scream before she managed to clamp down on her unhelpful emotions. “You chose an alliance with Nicolo . . . with Cleo and Magnus . . . over one with your own sister!”
“You leapt to conclusions like you always have,” Ashur growled. “You didn’t give me a chance to explain. Had I not taken the resurrection potion, the death you gave me would have been permanent.” He stopped talking, taking a breath to compose himself. “The moment you learned I lived, you blamed our family’s murder on me and had me thrown into a pit to become a meal for a monster. Please, sister, tell me how I can forgive and forget?”
“The future is more important than the past. I am empress of Kraeshia—and that will be a fact forever chiseled into history after my Ascension. I make the rules now.”
“So what rules would you like me to follow, your grace?”
Amara flinched at his razor-sharp tone. “I wish to make amends between us. I want to show you that I regret what I’ve done when it comes to you. I was wrong.” The words tasted foul, but that made them no less true. “I need you, Ashur. This has been proven to me time and again these last months. I need you by my side. I want you to come back with me to Kraeshia, where I will officially pardon you for the crimes you’ve been accused of.”
Amara raised her chin and forced herself to meet his gaze. He stared back at her with unbridled shock.
“You’re the one who accused me of these crimes,” he said.
“I will tell everyone that was a plan set forth by Gaius. I’ve been forced to set him free, so what do I care if there’s a target on his back?”
“Why were you forced to set him free?”
“Lucia Damora arrived,” she said. “I thought it best not to cross a sorceress.”
Amara hated how frightened she was of Lucia, but her magic was as incredible as rumored. In Auranos, Amara had seen only a glimpse of Lucia’s power, but it had strengthened and grown since then.
She knew she could not defeat her.
And the child . . .
Lucia had not given more information about the baby she’d arrived with, but there were rumors spreading like wildfire.
Carlos himself had overheard the young man that Lucia had arrived with speaking with a friend about the baby, saying that she was Lucia’s own child by blood. Her child and an immortal’s.
If true, this would be incredibly useful information.
Between Lucia, Gaius, and the thought that Kyan was out there somewhere, waiting to return to burn everything down around her, Amara had had enough of this tiny kingdom that had only brought her misery.
“All I care about is getting away from here, away from Mytica,” she told Ashur. “I will not put myself, or you, in harm’s way a moment longer. I’m going home for the Ascension, as our grandmother requests. Perhaps you won’t even believe this, given all I’ve done, but you are the only member of our family that I’ve ever valued.”
Ashur’s expression turned wistful. “Neither of us ever fit in, did we, sister?”
“Not in the ways that Father would have liked.” She regarded him, her defenses down, as she remembered how good it was to have someone to believe in wholly, someone to trust without question. “Leave the troubles of the past behind. Come with me, Ashur. I will share my power with you and only you.”
He held her gaze for a long moment. “No.”
Surely she’d heard him wrong. “What?”
He laughed coldly. “You wonder why I sided with Nicolo after knowing him for a handful of weeks? Because he possesses the purest heart I’ve ever known. Your heart, sister, is as black as death itself. Grandmother has worked her own particular kind of magic in manipulating you to her will, hasn’t she? And you don’t even realize it yet.”
Amara’s cheeks flamed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Let me be as blunt as I can with you so there’s no room for misunderstanding,” Ashur said. “I will never in a million years trust you again, Amara. The choices you’ve made are unforgivable. I would rather live a life as a peasant than take any power you wish to share with me, knowing that any minute you would gladly plunge a dagger into my back if it served you better.”
Amara fought against the tears that stung her eyes. “Are you so much of a fool that you’d give up the opportunity I’ve given you today?”
“I want no part of your life anymore. You’ve chosen your path, sister. And it’s one that will lead to your destruction.”
“Then you’ve made your final choice.” The words came out as a strangled cry. “Carlos! Let me out of here!”
A moment later, the door swung open.
The words like daggers in her throat, she cast one last look at Ashur. “Farewell, brother.”
Outside the prison, the sky was dark with rainclouds. Amara leaned against the stone wall, trying to collect herself.
She wondered how much Cleo’s water magic had to do with the unpredictable weather over the last two days. The princess was in mourning for her lost husband.
Magnus Damora was dead.
Someone else you betrayed for your own gain, she thought.
She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing to block out the world.
Amara knew she should celebrate Magnus’s death—should thank Lord Kurtis for removing one more enemy from her list if he ever showed his face again.
After a moment, she opened her eyes. Amara’s stomach lurched. Nerissa Florens was walking across the grounds toward her.
The former attendant to the empress and secret full-time rebel spy—secret, at least, until very recently—came to a stop before the empress.
Yet another person Amara would prefer to avoid.
“You’re back from the search?” Amara asked tightly.
Nerissa nodded. “The others will be back at dusk, but I wanted to check on Princess Cleo.”
“So kind of you.”
“You’ve been crying.”
Amara fought the urge to wipe her eyes. “The compound is dusty, that’s all.”
“You went to visit your brother, didn’t you?”