And yet they’ve never betrayed him.
“I believe in Rahava,” Tarron says quietly. “Before your grandfather and your father came along, we were all just a bunch of warring tribes. Your grandfather united this empire, and your father kept it together. Stability. That’s what we want.”
I bite my tongue. Father incited more than a few senseless wars in his lifetime, but now isn’t the time to be arguing the point. “And if I swear to you, Tarron, that I’ll do everything in my power to keep the empire stable; to ensure the people of Rahava know peace, will you look beyond what I’ve become?”
The big warrior chuckles softly. “You don’t have to question such things, Your Highness. We’ve already seen how you go about things; what your intentions are. The Duchy of Tyron is proof enough of that. You’ve transformed that place from a shithole into a powerhouse. One of my cousins on my da’s side lives there. He’s one of your boys; fought in the Northern War. He writes me from time to time. He’s married a Tyronese woman. They’ve got a baby on the way. Says life’s good in the north. He used to be a doubter, but now he wouldn’t live anywhere else. And he won’t tolerate a single bad word against you. That man would die for you, Your Highness.”
“What’s his name, Tarron?”
“Erdion Brancun. You probably wouldn’t remember him, but—”
“I know him. He’s a gunner, isn’t he?”
“That’s him.” Tarron’s bushy eyebrows lift in surprise. He leans forward, his gaze sharpening. “Your Highness, if I might be frank with you…？”
“Go on.”
A deep sigh escapes him. “I can’t think of another person that has what it takes to sit on that throne. There’s only you. The dukes of the Noble Houses are just too damn greedy, and they would favor their own, causing a power imbalance. And your bloody brother has been influenced by the mages of Deignar. I fear he’s lost to the Dark Arts. Rhaegar and Leticia Talavarra have got their hooks in that boy. He’d be a puppet at best.”
My chest tightens. Ansar and I have never been close. There’s an age gap between us, and our parents had always found reasons to keep us apart.
I don’t have many memories of him from childhood. I remember encountering him at formal events; balls and banquets and the like. I was on the cusp of manhood, and he was but a boy.
He was always impeccably dressed, and surrounded by family members from the Talavarra clan. At first, he was quiet and reserved and very well behaved. And he always seemed to have very little to say to me.
It was only when he became older that he started attracting the attention of the ladies of the court, for Ansar Talavarra-Duthriss had apparently become very good looking, according to public opinion. He started to gain a reputation for being a wrecker of hearts and a master of wild, lavish parties.
What kind of life has he led since then? I almost regret not getting to know him better.
Maybe, just maybe…
Ansar needs protecting too.
Tarron shifts uneasily. He swallows. Then he takes a deep breath. “Your Highness, we want you to take the throne. The Elite Guard will support you without question. I don’t care if you’ve been touched by magic or whatever, and I doubt most regular people care about that, either.”
My heart starts to beat again. My resolve strengthens.
If this is how it must be, then I can’t refuse it any longer.
A wry smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “You’ve been talking to Kaithar, haven’t you?”
I know that Kaithar and Tarron are good friends.
Tarron gives me a cryptic look. “We, er, correspond.”
“Unbeknownst to me, two commanders of the empire have been plotting to install me as emperor.” Irony fills my voice.
“It’s not like that, Your Highness. I merely—”
I make a silencing gesture with my hand. “If you’re true to your word, then swear fealty to me here and now.”
“I will. And here I was thinking you’d never bloody get around to it.”
“Swear,” I command him, rising to my feet, “that you will be loyal to me and no other master. That you will protect what is mine and carry out the duties of a Commander of the Elite Guard with the same integrity that you demonstrated under my father. That at times, you may need to risk your life to fulfil said duties.”
“I know that already,” Tarron growls, also standing. “And I swear it under the name of Eresus.”
I pull out my dagger and make a cut across my palm. “Swear it in blood, Tarron Markanian.”
“Fine. I have no hesitation in doing so.” He unsheathes his own dagger and slices his palm. “ I swear fealty to you, Corvan Duthriss.”
I hold my hand above his, allowing my own blood to trickle into his palm.
“And I swear that I will fulfil my promise to you to become the emperor of Rahava. I will personally eliminate any threat that could undermine the stability of the empire and the safety of its people. I will treat the Elite Guard fairly and reward you handsomely, and as much as you work to protect me and mine, I will use all my power to protect you.”
My blood mingles with Tarron’s, and the cut in his big, callused palm begins to heal.
“Well, that’s something else,” he mutters, his eyes going wide in shock. “I’ve never had a prince of the empire swear an oath to me before.”
“You might be used to my father’s ways, but I do things differently.”
“Oh, we already know that, Your Highness.”
“Summon the other guards. They will swear fealty to me in the same manner. Any that aren’t willing are free to leave.”
“Don’t you worry, we won’t have none of that.”
“Good. After that, you can go find an embalmer. They’re to prepare the body and remain here until his death is made public.”
“As you command, Your Highness.”
“And, Tarron…”
“Yes, Your Highness?”
“Now that you’re one of my Elite Guards, there’s no need for formalities. You can call me Corvan, just like you used to.”
At last, Tarron’s serious mask slips. A grin breaks through, gleaming white against his russet beard. “It’s gonna take a while to get used to all the changes around here, but I can’t say I’m complaining.”
56
FINLEY
At last, it’s time to leave for the Duchy of Talavarra.
Corvan has handled everything. Somehow, he’s convinced the Elite Guard swear fealty to him, and he’s summoned an embalmer to attend to the emperor’s body. I don’t know if he’ll make good on his threat of sticking his father’s head on a pike above the castle walls, but I’m not going to try and convince him otherwise.
Valdon Duthriss was a bastard through and through.
All that’s left is for us to find my mother—and Corvan’s half-brother, who we suspect might be responsible for the undead army that attacked Tyron Castle.
Corvan’s back now. I hear his footsteps ringing on the marble floors. Instinctively, I know it’s him. His strides are swift and inhumanly perfect. He’s probably doing it on purpose so as not to sneak up on me. When he wants to, he can be terrifyingly stealthy.