Page 248 of Revels on an Angel’s Grave

When would this realm stop hurting her? When would they finally break her beyond repair?

As if he heard, Roremar pressed his lips to her temple. “It doesn’t matter,” he whispered.

But it did. She’d chosen him, but as long as she had these Fate ties, she’d never be free. Rocks weighed down her limbs at the realization. She’d claimed him, claimed their bond and their future, and still it wasn’t enough.

“Rore.” Desmond’s voice cut through her thoughts.

Lola was stirring, eyes fighting to open. Desmond backed further away and propped her on the altar, her form swaying as she struggled to wake. Desmond whispered encouragement to her, bracing her spine so she could sit upright.

Emmeline forced her emotions down and focused on Rocarri. Lola was safe, but they needed to get her out of here before Dryvius returned⁠—

Fear trickled down her spine. What if the Fate was already among them? She’d thought Falliare was recreating Dryvius’s rituals, thought maybe Rocarri wanted to use this tournament to create new Fate, but what if that wasn’t quite right?

What if they were even closer than she’d theorized?

Her stare narrowed on the Chancellor. “Why are you so interested in our Fatesworn bond?”

“Who wouldn’t be interested?” Rocarri feigned. “It’s a rare legend.”

Though it pained her to reveal her final card, Emmeline had no choice. And she wanted to do it when Rocarri wasn’t expecting it. “What about the Fate Bound Seekers?”

“What are the Fate Bound Seekers?” Perry asked, accusation thick in his voice. He and Rian flanked her and Roremar.

“It’s a cult the Chancellor is associated with.” Emmeline’s stare sliced to Rocarri. “Care to clear up some of that?”

“My pleasure now that you two have stopped lying.” Rocarri clasped his hands before him, the tattoos on his knuckles forming a perfect constellation in the dim starfire flickering around the room, though Emmeline couldn’t make out which it was. “I was born into the Fate Bound Seekers. I left to pursue academia when I reached adulthood. But their doctrines were bred into me from a young age, and I never stopped wondering about some of their more…advanced beliefs.

“When the idea of the tournament resurfaced, I hoped a competition of this caliber would unveil those with the strongest magic among us. That’s why I based it on the Angel’s initial structure, used to select the Fates, as I’m sure you’ve figured out. I wanted to target that magic, to continue the research. But then”—his attention honed on Emmeline, a gluttonous glint in his eyes—“you went into that seeing chamber on Lyra, and your eleven Fate ties blew it to bits in a display no one could look away from.”

“I knew you wanted to come to Valyn, and from what Aldryn recounted about both you and Mr. Silventa, with all the research I’d done on bonds, I had an inkling of what truly lay between you. You fell into my hands. Was I not to play that card, sweet Emmeline?” Rocarri stepped closer, a hand lifting to brush her cheek.

Roremar’s arm slipped around her waist, his voice lethal. “I’d be very careful where you put that hand, Chancellor.”

Emmeline’s heart fluttered at his defense—even more because she knew he was well aware she could handle Rocarri herself. For once, it felt good to not face a threat alone. To stand together as they were meant to.

Rocarri laughed. “Oh, you two made it so easy.” He stepped back across the Warder Mark, his eyes still twinkling.

“So, you suspected we were Fatesworn, brought us here because of it, yet you still wanted to force me to bond with whoever won this tournament?” Emmeline sneered.

“I never expected anyone other than Roremar to win,” Rocarri said simply. “That’s why I allowed him to enter.”

And realization crashed into her. “You were trying to force our hands.”

“You weren’t lying when you claimed you didn’t want me to die,” Roremar added, and Rocarri nodded. “You put me in the tournament, and you knew I wouldn’t be able to resist fighting for Emmeline.”

“And if you threatened him and denied every truth I told about him, I would become desperate.”

And under the pressure of so much turmoil and denial, the bond would be forced to surface.

And they’d have no choice but to accept it.

Everything Rocarri had done since she arrived in the capital made sense then. Why all the Chancellor’s threats always felt antagonistic, why he removed Roremar’s guards recently to tempt him to sneak out when Emmeline pulled away.

He’d been baiting them.

This entire time, Balmour Rocarri had been pushing them toward one another by prying them apart.

All he’d wanted was for them to claim their Fatesworn bond. For what? So, he could study it? Manipulate it, as he had her for weeks?