Burning Glass (Burning Glass #1)(42)

“Just one cup.”

“Good night.” I curtsied and rushed from the room, even after I heard him call, “Wait!”

I ran down the corridor and closed the panels of my robe. Tears pricked my eyes. I slowed, reaching my door, then tracked back to Anton’s. I pressed my forehead to the wood, my palms to the carvings. How long had he been waiting? How long had Valko held me in his embrace?

I knocked three times, then startled when the door immediately opened. Anton still hadn’t removed his boots, though his shirt was untucked and his hair more disheveled.

Not expecting to see him, I mumbled, “You were supposed to knock back.” It was better than saying, I’m a weak fool with a weak heart, and a completely backward Auraseer.

He studied me, his mouth hard and unyielding as his gaze traveled over my tangled hair and wrinkled robe. “Are you all right? What happened?”

“Nothing.” I smiled, but a tear betrayed me and streaked down my face.

His brows drew together. “Did he hurt you?”

“No.” I wiped my nose. “No, of course not.” Anton waited, knowing there was more. I touched my lips with a trembling hand. “We kissed is all. I don’t know how it happened.”

He released a portion of a sigh. I was so distraught I couldn’t sense if it held relief or disappointment.

“I’m sorry.” Another tear fell. Why was I crying? Why did I seek so desperately to please the prince? What did it matter what he thought of me? I would only ever let him down and bring shame to myself. I could never measure up to him.

He tilted his head. “I daresay my brother wanted more than a kiss.”

“Yes.” I brushed under my eyes, but the tears were relentless. I didn’t confess I was the one to kiss Valko in the first place.

“But you stopped his advances, didn’t you?”

I breathed in and out and nodded.

A hint of a reassuring smile graced his mouth. “Then I believe you fared remarkably. You have no need to be sorry.”

I stared at Anton, unsure if I’d heard him correctly.

He touched my arm. Warmth flowered in my belly. “Rest well, Sonya.” His hand lingered a moment before he drew it away. He shut the door before I could also wish him good night.

I stumbled back to my room in a daze, so unraveled that I climbed inside the horrid box bed, too exhausted to sleep on the floor. I set my hand in Izolda’s clawed trenches, ready to make them deeper, when Anton’s words echoed in my mind: You fared remarkably.

I withdrew my hand and let sleep overtake me.





CHAPTER THIRTEEN


PIA DIDN’T COME WITH MY TEA TRAY THE FOLLOWING MORNING. When I inquired after her, Lenka told me she was being punished for having been tardy to the kitchens. Cook was making her clean out the second fireplace. Though I missed my friend’s company and felt sorry for the menial task she’d been assigned, I was more relieved I wouldn’t have to give her an account just yet of what had transpired between me and the prince last night, not to mention the emperor.

I wasn’t summoned for duty until dinner that evening. Valko was entertaining diplomats from Shengli and Abdara in the great hall. I tried to expand my awareness to the foreigners, to deduce any malevolent emotions they might be harboring, but all my energy kept straying to Valko.

He sat with his councilors at his raised table on the dais, his gaze often returning to me. I fiddled with the hem of my sleeve as I analyzed every measure of his aura. Did this heightened feeling within me mean he was just as nervous as I was to be in the same room together? Or was this eagerness? I touched my neck and swallowed. Perhaps all these internal fluctuations were simply my own embarrassment for forgetting myself last night. How difficult had I made it for the emperor to now treat me as merely his sovereign Auraseer?

I cast my eyes to the empty chair at the left end of the emperor’s table. Anton never showed up to the dinner. Had the prince thought twice about the kiss I gave his brother? Was he angry with me, too?

After the last course of the meal, when the guests stood to mingle, Valko remained seated in his chair. He motioned for me to come forward. My heart thudded as I ascended the dais. I curtsied, then knelt at his feet so I wouldn’t stand taller than him. “My Lord Emperor,” I said, remembering Kira and Dasha. I hoped I hadn’t lost his favor.

He twisted a ring on his finger. “What is the sentiment of the diplomats tonight?”

I glanced at the two men—the Shenglin in his silk robes with the insignia of the emerald dragon and the Abdaran in his turban and curl-toed shoes—and chastised myself for not having paid better attention to their auras. Now as close as I was to Valko and with my natural affinity toward him, I couldn’t sense a thing from the diplomats. “They’re, um . . . doing well. They’re satisfied with the fine meal you gave them and seem eager to watch the bear dancers.”

Valko nodded, thankfully accepting the pitiful report I fabricated on the spot. “I’d like to keep them comfortable for as long as possible. They won’t be happy when they discover I’m arranging a marriage alliance with Estengarde.”

“Of course, Your Imperial Majesty. I’ll let you know when that happens.”

His gaze swept over my face, and his eyes warmed in the candlelight. “Did you sleep well last night, Sonya?”