Burning Glass (Burning Glass, #1)(110)
He grinned, and his gaze explored my face. “Such a clever Auraseer.” As his fingers stroked my collarbone, I sensed his rage recede to a secret chamber of his aura, where he kept it within careful reach.
My perplexity over his mood change made my heart race with trepidation. Where was his retribution? How could he tease me with a provocative touch when he’d been so monstrous?
The only recourse I could think of was to play along with him—pretend my life wasn’t forfeit, as he’d told Anton it was. On the off chance this wasn’t a game and the emperor could grant me mercy, I might connect with that measure of compassion in him and use it to build a bridge between us. I could widen it to benevolence for all people and persuade him to relinquish the throne.
“Your grief is warranted,” I replied, and labored once again to show him my understanding—and find it for myself. “It must be a great blow to learn the only person left in your family may have plotted against you.”
Valko’s smile fell away. His hand withdrew from my collarbone. “There is no ‘may have,’ Sonya. Anton did plot against me.”
“Oh.” I feigned shock and sympathy. “The people will take this news hard, especially since that poet, Tosya, is already in prison. You must be worried the commoners will revolt.” I touched his arm, and his resentment amplified. I let it eat its way through my gut. He felt so abandoned within. All his life he was molded to be emperor. That destiny required his separation from his family, the taking of another boy’s life to protect his identity . . . And now, after all that sacrifice, the people of Valko’s hard-earned empire were uniting against him. “My duty compels me to warn you, My Lord, that the commoners are most unhappy.”
His jaw muscle spasmed as he turned back to stare at the city. From here, it shone crystalline in the fading sunlight. The Azanel River sparkled unpolluted. The height of the nobles’ dwellings blocked the view of grime and poverty in the other Torchev, the half the emperor didn’t want to see.
I gently stroked his arm. “Perhaps, if you understood the reason why they are—”
I flinched, cutting myself off a second before he did as his sudden rage scorched me.
“I don’t wish to speak about the people!” He whirled on me with blazing eyes. “Your warnings do not serve me if they come too late!” Pressing nearer to me, he asked, “What did you suspect about my brother these past months? When did you plan to warn me about him?”
My hands balled into shaking fists as I fought not to let his fury overwhelm me. But then why fight it? I should abandon myself to it. “I’ve never sensed any hatred in Anton for you!” I lashed back and let his fire stoke in my belly. “What could I warn you about if the prince never wished you any harm? He is not a violent person!” My entire body trembled with rage.
Valko smirked and laughed a little as he tilted his head. In an instant, his scornful mood slid away, beneath its trapdoor. In its place emerged a twisted curiosity. “You seem to know Anton well,” he mused, baiting me.
Again, I was baffled by his shift in emotion. I sensed the threads of his manipulation wrapping around me, but not his motive.
“I am familiar with the prince’s aura,” I confessed, my anger quelling when his did, my voice lowering to match his volume. “It is my job as your protector to understand all those closest to Your Majesty.”
He arched a sardonic brow, but his gray eyes were flat with no amusement. “Then you could not be blind to Anton’s feelings for you.”
I winced as a flicker of his rage singed me.
“I believe he loves you,” I retaliated, and turned Valko’s accusation back on him.
He barked out a laugh. “Love me? He’s never stopped scheming for my throne!”
Startled by another scorch of anger, I retreated a step. The mounting betrayals of the past days were taking their toll—Valko was so unstable right now, so unhinged. I feared he was losing his grip on his sanity.
“Acting as the benefactor of a rogue gypsy,” he spat as he paced about, “is just another one of Anton’s tactics to turn the people’s allegiance.” The emperor’s words came faster as a manic temper seized him and made me claw at my wrists. “He’s already won the favor of the nobles. They would rather him rule than me. I can see that. I’m not a fool, Sonya.” He tapped his head like a madman.
It was impossible to grasp his aura, to bond with it. It was too slippery and scattered by erratic anxiety and hysteria. “As someone sharing your anointed blood,” I countered, “I only thought you would give the prince a fair trial.”
Valko’s eyes crinkled at the corners, but they were nothing like merry. He stopped his pacing and drifted nearer, so close his dangerous aura lifted the hairs on my arm. “I’m not a fool, Sonya,” he said again in a whisper. “Has my brother won your favor, too?” He traced a finger from my temple to my chin, then up to my lips. “Have you given yourself to him, when you’ve denied me?”
A dark sense of foreboding descended upon me. I stared into Valko’s eyes and realized with distinct clarity what had upset him most of all, what had provoked him beyond any other betrayal—he believed I had fallen in love with Anton. And he was right.
My heartbeat grew heavy with dread. I should never have turned myself in to the guards, never come here. I should have tried my luck in persuading the jail master to release Anton and Tosya. There was no hope in overpowering Valko now, not when all his energy was bent on punishing me for the worst of crimes. I had hit the nerve of his greatest insecurity—that his brother was loved more than he was. And now Valko would do everything in his power to make me suffer for it.