115
A fierce gust of wind tore across the terrace. Through the wild tangle of her own hair, Talia saw Senevier blur into a hazy silhouette.
Frozen like stone, Talia stared down into the rippling pond. More than the news itself, the way Senevier took pleasure in her misery hollowed out her chest.
Swallowing the bitter bile rising in her throat, she forced her voice steady.
“Surely you didn’t come all this way just to deliver such a rumor. The Empress must have far more leisure than I imagined.”
“Hardly.”
The Empress’s lips curved downward, her interest seemingly dampened by the flat reaction.
“I told you. I wished to see with my own eyes how you and your husband truly manage. And if possible, I intended to bring the Grand Duke to our side.”
A quiet sigh of disappointment slipped past her lips.
“Yet he would not budge an inch. It seems your husband is determined to place Gareth on the throne no matter what.”
“Then what did you expect?”
Talia let out a cold, sharp laugh.
“Did you honestly believe he would alter his convictions simply because he married me?”
“I cannot say I harbored no hope.”
Senevier answered with airy indifference, looking out at the fortress walls bathed in sunset.
A stray leaf brushed her cheek on the wind. Senevier caught it, rolling the stem between her fingertips before slowly grinding it to dust.
“Varkas has always been volatile where you are concerned. I realized long ago that you provoke him in peculiar ways. I expected you to use that, to shake him with greater purpose.”
Letting the crumbled remnants scatter in the breeze, Senevier turned back toward her. Talia went rigid at the unmistakable reproach settling in her mother’s eyes.
Having leveled her disdain upon the daughter who had failed her, the Empress glanced toward the knights stationed in the distance and added,
“Though in truth, your husband seems rather fond of you. It was quite amusing to see him on edge, fearful I might do you harm.”
· · ·
“Yet not fond enough, it appears, to break an old oath.”
Talia looked up, bloodless, bracing herself against the impulse to collapse.
She already knew this. There was no cause to let it cut her now.
She held her chin high.
“I do not care in the least whom Varkas supports. Whether Gareth takes the throne or Asros does, it means nothing to me. Do not drag me into your feud.”
“You were born into it.”
The Empress leaned down, the abyssal dark of her pupils expanding until they filled Talia’s vision. She spoke as though searing each syllable into Talia’s flesh.
“That was sealed the day you drew your first breath. Do you truly believe Gareth will suffer your existence once he wears the crown?”
Talia’s mouth opened, but no words came.
The Empress pronounced the rest with chilling finality.
“Gareth will not spare a second thought for the Grand Duchess of the East. He will destroy you even if it means tearing down House Shearkan. Varkas Raedgo Shearkan believes he can hold Gareth back, blind to the truth that the only way to stop him would be to slit his throat himself.”
The words, delivered like an inescapable prophecy, seeped into Talia’s bones like frost.
Before she could gather herself to speak, Senevier pressed closer.
“Your husband is functionally blind when it comes to human feeling. Barricaded behind his walls of reason, he cannot fathom madness. He sees neither Gareth’s hatred nor Ayla’s devotion. He does not understand how vicious rage can become, or how grotesque love makes people. In the end, he will deliver you, me, and Asros straight to the butcher’s block.”
Talia instinctively drew back, recoiling from the grim certainty of it, but iron fingers clamped down on her shoulder.
Gripping her daughter tightly, Senevier finally bared her intent.
“So Talia, you must assist me.”
“What… what could I possibly do? I have nothing—no power—!”
“You will bear the heir of this grand duchy.”
Talia’s eyes widened, frozen. Her mind went blank at the sudden strike.
Even as her thoughts unraveled and the rush of the wind faded to a distant hum, Senevier’s smooth cadence drove the wedge deeper.
“And you will raise that child to be Asros’s sworn brother. Just as your husband serves Gareth, your son will serve mine.”
“Stop… stop this madness!”
Talia twisted wildly, tearing herself from her mother’s grip.
“Was I not enough? Now you mean to use a child that doesn’t even exist for your ambition? Why should I? Why must I do that for you—!”
“Because it is the only way you survive.”
Senevier’s tone sharpened to an edge.
“How can you still not understand that if Asros fails to take the throne, you are dead? Gareth is your enemy. For ten long years, you tore relentlessly at those children’s scabs. Did you truly imagine you could wash your hands of that blood just by running away from the palace? After snatching away Ayla’s betrothed?”
“You made me do that—!”
“Every choice was your own.”
The harsh retort smothered Talia’s defense before it could take shape.
“Even setting aside my command, you must give him an heir. If you fail to conceive, not only Gareth but the eastern lords will clamor for an annulment. What do you think your husband will do then?”
A bitter sneer curled the corner of Senevier’s mouth.
“Answer me, Talia. Will Varkas Raedgo Shearkan protect you if it means abandoning the Crown Prince, Ayla, his own blood, and every vassal in his domain?”
Struck speechless by the cruelty of the question, Talia finally cried out in sheer desperation.
“Then let him cast me out! If Gareth wants to slaughter me, let him! It’s not as if I ever asked to be born—!”
Talia, sobbing like a cornered animal, suddenly choked on her breath. The profound disgust in Senevier’s gaze instantly shattered what little defiance she had left.
The woman who had once been the center of her universe looked down at her with unvarnished contempt.
“Do you know what animals do? Many abandon their sickly young. That is how the mother and the rest of the litter survive.”
Talia stared into those murky, suffocating eyes with hollow despair. The Empress finally gave voice to the unspoken menace she had so often hinted at.
“Yet humans cannot discard their flesh and blood quite so cleanly. That is the only reason I have not thrown you away.”
Soft, fragrant fingers brushed against cheeks drained of all warmth. Only then did Talia realize wet trails were burning down her skin.
Feigning the tender touch of a mother comforting a child, Senevier leaned in and murmured against her ear.
“You may doubt it, Talia, but even I possess feeling. I felt it the day you were born. You resembled me so closely, you were so beautiful, and watching you grow brought me joy. It was that sentiment that kept me from discarding you, even after you ceased to be of any use.”
Her mother’s face wavered through a veil of tears, but the whisper against her ear rang agonizingly clear.
“So do not disappoint me any further.”
Talia bit down on her lip.
The brine of tears and the copper of blood mingled on the tip of her tongue. The breath trapped in her chest felt heavy enough to choke her.
“You understand what you must do, don’t you?”
When Talia managed the faintest nod, ice-cold lips pressed against her eyelids.
Is this how it felt to be kissed by a corpse?
Gazing blankly at Senevier’s pleased smile, Talia looked past her toward the shadowed courtyard below. Stretched thin in the dying twilight, their entangled shadows bled across the flagstones like a single, grotesque monster.
END