Broken Veil (Harbinger #5)(54)

Joanna snorted. “I’m sure you’d find a comfortable cell for me, Your Majesty. But no thank you. Not even you could protect me from them.”

“Who?”

“I’ve said enough.” She turned away, hiding her troubled expression as she continued to paw the buttons. Sera’s frame was smaller than Joanna’s, so the dress didn’t fit very well.

“Here, let me help you,” Sera offered.

Joanna turned, startled and suspicious.

“That dress isn’t meant to be buttoned up by one person,” Sera explained. “I’ll help. Come closer. I can’t go anywhere. You think I can break this chain with my hands?”

“You might try something foolish.”

“I’m trying to survive this ordeal,” Sera said. “Nothing more, nothing less. Come closer. I doubt I could best you even if I had a weapon.”

“You couldn’t,” Joanna said archly. She approached and sank lower, low enough that Sera could reach the buttons. She moved her hair out of the way.

Sera tugged at the fabric and managed a few buttons on the top and the bottom, but they strained against the eyelets. There was no way she could close the gap.

“There,” Sera said with a sigh. “That’s the most that will go in.”

“Thank you,” Joanna said.

She started to rise, but Sera gripped her hand firmly, stopping her. “You said I couldn’t protect you from them,” Sera said in a low voice. “Who did you mean? The poisoners?”

Joanna gave her a dark expression. Still looking into Sera’s eyes, she reached down and wrenched her hand loose, sending a searing pain into Sera’s shoulder.

“Your empire has hunted us for generations,” she hissed with a menacing voice. “I’m a hetaera, Sera. I did it willingly. Do you think the Ministry of Thought would allow you to protect me?”

“I’m the empress,” Sera said, gritting her teeth. “I can.”

“You couldn’t even protect yourself,” Joanna said with disdain. “It wasn’t that difficult getting to you.”

“You’re lying,” Sera said, shaking her head. She tried to wrench her arm back to end the pain, but she couldn’t. “It takes time to subvert someone. To manipulate them into doing what you want.”

“It happens a lot faster than you would think,” Joanna said, letting go of Sera’s hand. “Even the scrupulous ones. I’ve been working on Stephen Fitzroy. If he survives the fall of the manor, I’ve no doubt I’ll get through to him. Every person will fall if the enticement suits them. Your empire has been corrupted beneath your very nose, Empress. You need look no further than your own father.”

Sera’s heart boiled in anger. “And you need look no further than Brant Fitzroy. Not everyone falls. He didn’t.”

Joanna shrugged. “One man doesn’t make much of a difference.”

“Sometimes it can make all the difference,” Sera said. “If it is prison that you fear, then we can make another arrangement.”

“I don’t fear your prisons,” Joanna said. Then she looked around the cement floor stained and smeared with muck, her nostrils flaring. “It doesn’t matter. Your promises are nothing more than smoke.”

“How little you trust,” Sera said, shaking her head.

“Well, it was trusting that got you into this mess in the first place,” Joanna said slyly. “Your own mother delivered you to us on a silver platter. Besides, I knew I might die ere this assignment was finished. It’s the risk we all accepted with the brand. Even Cettie accepted it. Yes, your pious little Cettie is one of us now. We will gain back what was lost. What was ripped away from us by the first empress. You will restore our true queen to us, Sera.”

“You are mistaken,” Sera said. Maybe Cettie’s involvement was a lie after all. Lies were the coin these people used. “You cannot force me.”

“We’ll see,” Joanna said, smiling. “I’m not going to stay in this sludge pit any longer than I have to. I need some air. And since I can’t have you trying to escape, I have just the remedy for you.” She twisted a ring on her finger, exposing a needle. Before Sera could react, Joanna jabbed it into Sera’s shoulder. There was a sharp bite of pain and then fog. Sera felt herself slumping.



How long Sera was unconscious, she didn’t know. The poison left her groggy and lethargic. The small candle had burned out, leaving her in utter blackness. She was aware of sounds, of movement, of the dragging of chains. Still, she couldn’t move. Her muscles were too rigid and heavy.

She was thirsty again, and her stomach gnawed with fierce hunger. Her body ached, not just because of her wounds, but from the cramped posture and the iron manacle’s grip on her ankle. Her thoughts were dark and brooding.

In her sluggish haze, she called out in exasperation to the Mysteries.

Why did you let this happen to me? I have tried to be good, to change from the selfish princess I used to be. I want to do your will. Why must I suffer these degradations? If I’m meant to die, then why not just end it now?

Silence met her mute entreaty. This did not surprise her. For while she’d felt the power of the Mysteries many times, had even been given words to speak on its behalf—like the Gifting she had performed for Lord Fitzroy on his deathbed—she knew she couldn’t force an answer to come. So she waited in the darkness.