I glanced at the bodies surrounding us. Five men, one a noble. We’d be executed if we were discovered.
“After you,” I said, gesturing toward the alley’s exit with mock deference.
Without another word, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows of the Imperial City with the grace of a predator returning to its hunting grounds.
I stood alone for a moment among the dead, the taste of him still on my lips, wondering what kind of monster I’d just embraced — and what kind of monster that made me.
24
“Iwant Lord Varin executed and strung up in the city centre. I want his entrails spread where the crows can feast on them and his head on a spike.”
“Evening to you as well, son.”
Emperor Valorian sat behind his massive desk of polished obsidian, not bothering to rise when I entered. A crystal decanter of wine and two glasses waited on a silver tray beside a stack of official-looking documents. The chamber was exactly as I remembered — walls adorned with maps of conquered territories, displays of rare weapons, and shelves groaning under the weight of military histories and political treatises, many of which I’d read myself. Nothing frivolous. Nothing that didn’t serve some purpose.
Just like my father.
“I see you have returned from playing at being ordinary,” he said, his tone carrying that familiar edge of mockery. “Close the door behind you.”
I did as instructed, the soft click of the latch a final severing from the outside world.
“Father,” I acknowledged with a slight bow — not the full genuflection required of subjects, but enough to acknowledge his position. “I trust you’re well.”
His thin lips curved into what others might mistake for a smile. “Better than well. I’ve been receiving reports of your progress at the academy.” He gestured to the chair opposite his desk. “Join me for a drink. We should celebrate your accomplishments.”
My jaw tightened. “Reports? We agreed my attendance would remain confidential.” I remained standing, though I knew it would irritate him.
He poured wine into both glasses, the rich burgundy liquid catching the light from the nearby fireplace. “Come now, Jalend. You couldn’t possibly believe I would send my only son and heir into the academy without ensuring his safety and progress were monitored.”
“That wasn’t our arrangement,” I said, keeping my voice deliberately measured.
“Arrangements change.” He pushed one glass toward me. “Besides, I’ve respected your little charade. No one at the academy knows Prince Jalend Valorian walks among them. Your instructors report only to me, and only about matters of your safety and performance.”
I finally took the seat, though I left the wine untouched. “And what exactly have they reported?”
A hint of genuine pride crossed his features — rare enough that I almost missed it. “That you excel in theoretical disciplines, as expected. That your dragon responds to you better than most of your peers. That your combat skills, while not exceptional, have improved significantly.” He sipped his wine. “And that you’ve developed an unexpected interest in a fellow cadet. A Lady Cantius, if I’m not mistaken.”
Heat rushed to my face before I could control it. The mention of Livia’s name caught me off-guard, and the memory of finding her in that changing room — fierce and dangerous despite her dishevelled state, a knife at Varin’s throat — flashed through my mind.
“My interest in Lady Cantius is none of your concern,” I said stiffly.
My father’s cold eyes gleamed with amusement. “On the contrary. The companions my son chooses are very much my concern. Especially when they involve obscure noble houses with... questionable lineage.”
I should have expected this. Despite the academy’s rigorous vetting process, my father’s network of spies would have investigated every cadet’s background far more thoroughly.
“I came to discuss a different matter,” I said, steering the conversation away from Livia. Something protective stirred within me — I didn’t want her under my father’s scrutiny any more than necessary.
“Did you?” He leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine in his glass. “Very well. What matter is important enough to bring Prince Jalend out of his self-imposed exile?”
I met his gaze directly. “Lord Varin Mallistus.”
My father’s expression didn’t change, but I detected a subtle shift in his posture — the slightest straightening of his spine. “You want him dead. Why?”
“He attacked another cadet,” I said, the words coming out sharper than I intended as anger rose within me. “A female cadet, in the changing rooms after training. He needs to be expelled from the academy and stripped of his title and estates, preferably executed.”
For several long moments, my father said nothing, merely studying me with the calculating gaze that had intimidated diplomats and generals alike. I refused to look away.
“The Mallistus family has been loyal to the Imperial throne for seven generations,” he finally said. “They control three provinces and provide nearly twenty percent of our armament resources. Tell me why I should jeopardize that alliance over what sounds like a youthful indiscretion.”
