Amara turned, fists clenched, her fingernails biting into her palms, and left the map room.
Yes, how deeply ludicrous it was for anyone to think they had a chance against such a great and powerful conqueror.
• • •
“Something troubles you, princess,” Mikah said as Amara hurried toward her chambers in the east wing of the Spear.
That she’d thought for even a moment that her father would be pleased to see her after her journey embarrassed her. Of course he hadn’t been pleased. Why would she think that anything would have changed over the course of a few weeks when it had been like this for her entire life?
“My troubles are none of your concern,” she replied curtly. Perhaps too curtly. She stopped for a moment and turned to him. “I’m fine, Mikah,” she said, softer now. “Really.”
“I hope so. I don’t like to see you so sad.”
She spared him another glance and found him studying her intently with dark eyes, curious and searching. Other servants typically kept their gazes lowered in her family’s presence and didn’t speak unless first spoken to.
“Why are you always so kind to me?” she asked. “No other servant cares how I feel.”
His expression grew thoughtful. “I suppose when I see someone in pain, I want to help them.”
“Some injured animals will bite the hand that tries to help.”
“Then I suppose it’s a good thing you’re not an animal, isn’t it?” He allowed himself a small smile. “One day, perhaps we’ll become close enough that you’ll feel free to confide in me all manner of feelings and secrets.”
“And allow myself to trust a Kraeshian man?” she said, half to herself. “I’m not sure that’s possible.”
“Perhaps I’m different than other Kraeshian men.”
“A phrase many Kraeshian men might say,” she countered.
They reached her chambers and stopped in front of the entrance. She stood at the door for a moment, regarding Mikah’s handsome face.
It was difficult for her to see him as more than an indentured servant, still working to pay off the fee for which his parents traded their strong, healthy son to the Empire. And even though he’d always been kind and considerate to her, Mikah was Kraeshian. In Kraeshia, all boys—and girls, too—were brought up believing that only men were worthy of respect and honor, while women existed as mere ornaments and playthings, with no influence on others or the world at large.
She refused to let herself fall for a Kraeshian man, only to be deceived by him.
“I need to rest after my long journey,” she said. “But first, send for my grandmother. I wish to speak with her.”
He bowed. “As you wish, princess.”
Amara went inside, closed the door, and leaned against it. All of the roiling emotions that Amara had pushed so deep down inside herself during the journey home now came rushing to the surface. She ran to the mirror and clutched the sides.
“I’m alive,” she reminded her wild-eyed reflection. “Nineteen years later and I’m still here. I can do anything I want. I can have anything I want.”
orced a smile. “Yes, my brother has a wanderer’s soul. But it was lovely to be able to spend a bit of time with him. I’m sure he’ll return soon, but he didn’t say when.”
Perhaps in his next life, Amara thought. Kraeshians believed in reincarnation; just like the phoenix that represented the empire, they too would rise again after death and begin a new life.
“I’m sure you had the chance to meet King Gaius during your stay.”
She nodded. “The king was very kind to me and Ashur. He even gave us our own villa.”
She didn’t mention that the villa was as far away from the palace as possible. Or that the king nearly imprisoned her and Ashur to try to use them against the emperor. Or that it only took her one meeting with him to make her sure that he would have cut both of their throats without remorse if he’d felt it would serve him.
All of the rumors about Gaius Damora were true. He was a snake: cold-blooded and venomous. Of course she hadn’t tolerated his attempts to make her his prey while she was in Mytica, but now, with some distance between them, she found she could actually appreciate his ruthlessness.
“And what kinds of discussions did you have with the king?” the emperor asked, absently picking up a small model ship from the shore of the map.
“Nothing of particular interest; it was all very polite.” She tried to recall a single memorable conversation she’d had with the king. “He made introductions to his palace advisors, spoke a bit about the attractions in Auranos—nothing useful or enlightening. Of course that wasn’t surprising. Myticans don’t speak bluntly from their hearts and minds like us. It’s all empty courtesy and passive-aggressive innuendo.”