Burning Glass (Burning Glass #1)(40)
He placed his hand on my shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze. Comfort settled over me like a warm blanket. “What happened at the convent was a terrible tragedy, but I’m not sorry you are here, Sonya. Nor would I wish for another to take your place.”
I stared at him in amazement. The slivers of blue in his gray eyes caught the light and lent him a depth and beauty I’d never noticed before. My throat tightened against a rise of tears. I opened my mouth and shut it again, struggling to form words. What could I say in response to his inconceivable mercy and sympathy? Thank you was far too trite. In truth, I didn’t dare express my appreciation at all. I would surely crumple into a mess of sobs.
“I am not my brother,” Valko said. “He would judge a whole person by one error. I know better. People are more than their mistakes.” His hand moved from my shoulder to my face. Conviction flowed through me as his thumb brushed against my jaw. “It’s what you choose to do in the aftermath that counts. Only the strong can move forward.” He stared at me a long moment, and then gently withdrew his hand.
Sitting up taller, I swallowed hard against my emotions and searched for a safe subject to embark upon, something that wouldn’t make me feel undeserving of Valko’s kindness or remind me that Anton could never know the truth of my dark past. “I, um, haven’t ascertained any serious threats from the nobles,” I began, launching awkwardly into my report of duty. “I did wonder for a moment about Councilor Ilyin this afternoon—he seemed relentless about your mother’s poisoning. But I believe he’s harmless—irritable above all else.” I twisted my fingers in my lap, not sure what else to add. Was I to give a day-by-day account of all the noble lords? “Do you wish to know more?”
He grinned like I wasn’t fooling him with my show of unaffectedness. “Not really. I trust you would tell me if any true malice had been detected.” He shifted closer so his knees bent toward me. “When did you first discover you were an Auraseer?”
I blinked twice. “Pardon?”
He laughed, and with the brightening of his mood came a feeling of weightlessness. “Forgive me if I have no further desire to discuss the thinly veiled malice of the people at court. I know that’s why I summoned you here tonight, but . . . well, suddenly I’m more curious about you.” Valko shifted onto his side to make himself more comfortable on his cushion.
I studied his aura for sincerity. His curiosity must have been authentic, for I found myself leaning back into my own pillow. “I was five years old when my gift manifested beyond doubt,” I said. “I awoke in the night to alert my parents of a thief who had yet to cross our fields or break into our home.”
Valko lifted his brows. “Fascinating.”
I gave a little shrug, though my heart panged with loss. The story was factual, but I couldn’t remember it firsthand. I couldn’t even remember my parents’ faces or the image of my home beyond a vague memory of skipping across flagstones in our yard. The Romska were the ones to relay the story. They told it to me as I’d once told them.
“Such a gift.” The emperor shook his head. “I’ve often wondered why the gods chose not to grant it to the heirs of the Riaznian throne.” Scores of candles on the table, tall stands, and ledges around the room cast his face in full light and made no space for shadow.
“Perhaps the gods knew that too much greatness would not be a blessing,” I ventured.
“Do you call your gift a curse?”
“Often.”
He laughed again and tossed his head back, giving his whole self to the mirth. It warmed me and brought a smile to my lips. Since arriving in Torchev, I’d only felt this easy with Pia.
“I like you, Sonya Petrova,” he said. “I hope we share many long years together.”
My heart beat stronger. “As do I. I’m determined to even outlive Izolda.”
Valko pulled a face. “Just promise you won’t go bug-eyed, mumble incessantly, and smell of rye vinegar.”
My smile broadened. “As long as I’m permitted to sprout whiskers on my chin, I won’t complain.”
He burst out with more laughter. Heat flooded my cheeks, not from embarrassment, but in flattery that he liked my joke. A twinge of guilt pricked me that it came at the expense of my executed predecessor, but that was the wonderful thing about Valko—even something inappropriate felt amusing with him, the way it did when Yuliya and I had made fun of Nadia while she was sleeping.
His gaze followed my hand to where my fingers idly brushed a frayed thread of my robe. He scooted closer and took up the panel to examine the tattered seam.
“I tore out the fur lining,” I confided, seeing the question form on his mouth.
“And for this, you touched death?”
I nodded, slightly flustered. “I didn’t want you to see me in only my nightdress. At least by wearing my robe, I could show you respect.” Not exactly the truth, but it seemed to satisfy him. I sank deeper into my cushions, the smoke beneath the samovar lulling my body backward. I never imagined I could feel so tranquil in the emperor’s presence.
Valko’s rested his chin on his hand. “I shall commission new robes for you, Sonya. I want Estengarde to herald you in your full regality, and that doesn’t require fur.”
My limbs tingled with warmth. “Thank you. Are we going to Estengarde?” Traveling with the emperor through the mountain pass would have seemed a daunting affair an hour ago, especially since it meant arriving in a country Riaznin had an on-and-off-again alliance with. But now the prospect infected me with wanderlust.