Heart of Iron (Heart of Iron #1)(56)

All fates in the universe connected in a river, and that river flowed only one way.

The door opened and a shaft of light streaked into the bare room. A silhouette stepped inside.

“Oh—oh, dear,” said the man. His deep voice held the same Erosian accent as Robb’s, but slithery. Like oil in molasses. “Mother must have forgotten to mention to the guard you star-kissers don’t like the dark. You’re like plants that way.”

Jax looked up through his greasy silver hair and recognized the Valerio jawline and sky-colored eyes. “You must be the other brother. Erik.” He shifted so he could be in a little more of the light. The weakness in his body ebbed, making him keenly aware of how close the broad Ironblood was. “I can’t say it’s a pleasure.”

In response, the elder Valerio grinned. “Oh, I doubt anything will be a pleasure for you ever again, star-kisser. Our little Robbert is leading your friend to her death as we speak. She might already be convicted by now. Maybe bleeding out, riddled with bullets.”

A muscle in Jax’s jaw fluttered. This Ironblood was more insufferable than Robb, and he didn’t think that was possible.

“I’ll tell you what,” Erik Valerio went on. “I’ll leave the door open if you tell me what was on the Tsarina. And when I’m Emperor, I might even let you go.”

“You won’t be Emperor.”

“Oh, won’t I?”

Jax drew himself up to sit tall, even though he did not feel tall or imposing, his favorite trousers stained with his crewmate’s blood. “You won’t be anything—”

“Lord Valerio!” a guard called from down the hallway, coming to a stop in front of the cell. He was sweating—quite profusely. “Lord Valerio—there’s been—that girl has—”

Erik hissed, “Spit it out!”

“The lost princess has been found!” the guardsman gasped. “I—I ran here as fast as I could!”

“The what?”

“The prisoner, sir! She’s the lost princess!”

Jax thought he had heard incorrectly. The darkness was getting to him. Ana? Ana was the lost princess?

“You won’t be Emperor,” he heard himself say, remembering the bloodied crown in Robb’s stars.

With a rage-filled cry, Erik went for Jax’s throat. “I’m going to kill you—”

“Erik,” chided a calm voice from the doorway, and Erik stopped in his tracks. Jax squinted toward the door to the thin figure blocking the light. Graying brown hair, olive skin, Erosian blue-sky eyes—Goddess damn him, couldn’t he catch a break?

He slumped against the wall, again. He just wanted a little light. Just enough to breathe easy.

“It’s not true, is it?” Erik asked his mother. “The princess is dead, and we know it.”

“She is not,” Lady Valerio replied, “and as luck would have it, your brother found her.”

“Then what about me, Mother?” Erik asked. “What’ll I do? He did it on purpose, Mother. You know he did. He never liked me—”

“Quiet. Nothing is set in stone. As for you, C’zar Taizu”—she turned to address Jax, who felt about as far from a C’zar as the stars felt from the sun—“I expected to find you in better company than in the riffraff on the Dossier.”

“C’zar?” her son asked, baffled. “The Solani named him C’zar?”

“Surprise,” Jax muttered. She’d probably known who he was the moment she’d laid eyes on him on the Dossier.

“What’s he the prince of?”

“Nothing,” Lady Valerio replied. The word struck him in the stomach and twisted.

The prince of nothing. No, he was a prince of less than nothing. Of things forgotten. Of a people who couldn’t feel the stars anymore. Of a people who treated the one who could as a weapon.

She turned to leave. “Come, Erik. We’re needed at the palace.”

Dutifully, her son followed, and the sliver of light began to close.

Panic rose in Jax’s throat, tasting like the sharp bitterness of Robb’s kiss. And with it came the glint of knuckle rings, an image from Robb’s stars that felt like a knife slicing deep into his gut. If Ana was the lost princess, then the bloody crown meant her death. It had to. Robb’s brother was going to kill Ana.

Jax had to do something. He didn’t want her to die.

But what can I do?

The glimpses of Robb’s stars were supposed to be beacons to be followed, not stories to be changed.

What would happen if I tried? He swallowed the knot of panic in his throat. Could I?

As the Valerio woman left, he realized he would be damned if he didn’t. Ana was family. Ana was his family—more than his mother or father had ever been. She was one of the only people he’d ever cared about in his life. One of the only ones who truly mattered.

Princess or not.

“I can read your stars,” he called out after Lady Valerio, even though when he did read someone’s stars, it drained away a little more of his life. “I—I’m the only one who still can, and I’ll read yours.”

Lady Valerio stopped in the doorway. She inclined her head, listening.

“Don’t you want to know?” he asked, trying to balance all his deceit with nothing but truths. “A powerful woman like yourself could use a little hint. You might find me useful.”