Purple burns into my imaginative and prescient. I can’t cease excited about how pink her hair is.

The blood of 1000’s.

She’s lastly gained. We will all concede to her rule.

2

Seven mortal lords and their most trusted males wait in a semi-circle in entrance of Empress Rhianu’s tent. A desk sits within the midst of the group, lined with paperwork. Fanciful quills dipped in gold stand at consideration of their holders, one for every lord who should pledge his loyalty.

The wind is lifeless, as lifeless as we really feel inside. I want for a breeze to stir the darkish umber locks plastered to my neck from the moisture-thickened air.

I stand beside Lord Siarl as a member of his council. I’m to be ambassador within the empress’s court docket as soon as the day is finished.

I’m to be a spy.

“Caedryn, my abdomen turns,” Lord Siarl says underneath his breath. “I can’t signal my area away.”

“I do know, my lord.” I unfold my shoulders broader. I cannot present defeat. “This is not going to be the top.”

“I do know I can depend on you.”

“At all times,” I say.

The flaps on the tent half, and the guards maintain them open. The empress’s brother, Commander Meuric, geese out first. His blue eyes scan the gang, little question assessing for hazard. His inside gentle is weak as a result of the darkness guidelines him, so he virtually actually just isn’t utilizing his darkish energy to discern the feelings of the lads.

I take advantage of my inner gentle to discern their feelings. Three lords down, Lord Grigor stands erect, disappointment rattling him. Lord Rhydderch suppresses indignant outrage. His realm was probably the most lately attacked after Her Highness’s promised peace. He had funneled sources into a personal league of males for an rebellion. They mysteriously went lacking.

Nothing mysterious about it. The empress’s dragon riders flew in and annihilated all of them.

My Lord Siarl stays emotionless. I taught him to not really feel in a half-emrys’s presence, to not flinch outwardly. A half-emrys carrying gentle senses emotion. With remarkably success, I’m probably the most highly effective Half-emrys of Mild for leagues. Even Commander Meuric’s gentle is nothing in comparison with mine, so if my lord had been to flicker with emotion, Commander Meuric wouldn’t sense it in time to react or warn his empress—

Who just isn’t gentle in any respect.

As a result of Her Highness has given herself over totally to the darkish energy.

Lord Yorath, immediately on my left, clenches his fist because the empress emerges, wearing her finery—leather-based from head to toe, flowing cloak somebody meticulously embroidered. Flashes of pink material and silver blades.

I sense murderous fury. I don’t look Yorath’s method, however he’s rash. Lord Siarl warned me to be prepared ought to Yorath act on his silly impulses.

I’m prepared.

He’ll act.

I’m positive.

We take a knee and bow our heads because the empress steps nearer. A number of braids twisted with a bronze circlet at her hairline emphasize her excessive cheekbones.

“My lords, please rise.” The empress’s voice leaves no room for delay. The squeak of leather-based fills my ears as we stand. No swords clank at our hips.

We had been disarmed earlier.

“I’m happy you agreed to satisfy. It is a momentous day.” Her lips are pert, they usually kind mesmerizing ovals. No lord can look away. “As you signal your fealty, you’ll be able to relaxation assured there will likely be peace. You’ll safe for yourselves the would possibly of my dragon riders. Mortal males united with immortal half-emrys. We will prosper. Morvith shall be a nation past reproach.”

The empress strikes to the top of the desk, uncovered. She ought to have stayed behind it, however she’s not afraid of us, of what we might do. So she makes herself weak. “Step ahead and swear your oath.”

Her weak placement works for my plan although.

“Lord Grigor.” Commander Meuric gestures to the parchment in entrance of the lord.

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