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She didn’t so much as look in my direction.
“My throne.”
Constance twisted around. “What?! Who spoke!”
“Me.” Emiana stepped forward, chin held high—not a trace of fear on her face. “I think you’ll find the throne is mine, Constance. That was our deal. I free you, and you free me. It’s me who’ll become the high empress of Elva. No one else.”
A thousand emotions flit across Constance’s face—all variations of rage and disgust. Then they washed away, leaving her expression blank. “You’re right, of course. Forgive me. I’m sure you know how a lover can goad you into saying things you don’t mean.”
My soul burned hearing this madwoman call my husband her lover.
“You held up your end of the bargain, and I will hold up mine.” She snapped her fingers. “The binding spell is lifted.”
Emiana cried out, joy filling her as she lifted into the air—cradled by the magic that was always there, but just out of reach.
“But.”
Emiana’s joy vanished. She dropped hard on the floor. “But?” she snapped. “What but?”
“Well, surely you know it’s not as simple as declaring yourself high empress,” Constance breezed, shrugging. “As the worm told you, you didn’t marry a king. It did.”
I bristled at the way she spoke about me.
“You have no claim to the throne of Wind and Wild. You don’t even have a claim to the throne of Lyrica. You are a princess in name only. Your father made sure of that.”
“You said you could fix that,” Emiana cried, rushing the dais. “You promised you could make me high empress!”
“If it was as easy as waving my hand, I’d have done it myself!” she shouted back. “I said I could give you a throne, I never said it would be easy!
“There will be war, girl. War, and death, and pain. Are you ready to accept the toll—?”
“Yes,” Emiana sliced in. “This is my birthright. I will fight for it. No matter the cost.”
“To everyone else,” I exploded. “You will plunge the nations into war to force their submission to an empress that has no business breathing the same air as them! And I don’t speak of you, Emiana.” I glared at Constance. “I speak of her. Whatever lies she told you, she will not give you rule of Elva!”
Emiana’s expression flickered.
“Once she’s gained control of the kingdoms, she’ll slaughter you and take—”
“Silence.”
My jaw snapped shut. I shouted—yelling and cursing through lips that wouldn’t open.
“As I was saying,” Constance continued. “If you accept the cost, then we will begin here. Today.”
“What must we do?” If I planted any doubt in Emiana’s mind, she promptly ripped it out and tossed it away.
“There are ancient texts within these walls. They will aid us,” Constance said, receiving Emiana’s bobbing acceptance. “Also, hidden in the dungeons, is a siren.”
“Hhhmph!”
“Alisdair had brilliant plans for the creature. An idea so good, I wish I thought of it myself,” Constance said. “We will take it with us.”
“Very well. What else?”
“There’s a rat woman somewhere nearby, who has power not even I possess. She will serve us or die.”
“Naturally. All are my subjects. They serve me loyally, or they burn in the Plains.”
