Immortal Reign(54)

The apothecary was a mysterious man who had worked secretly for the Cortas family for many years. Amara made note to meet him in person very soon. She knew he was also responsible for the magical potion that had brought her back to life as a mere baby, the same potion that had made Ashur’s resurrection possible.

This was a man she needed to know. A man she needed to control.

“I have so much to tell you,” Amara said.

“Perhaps not as much as you think. I have been kept fully apprised of all that has gone on in little Mytica, despite the rather short and cryptic messages I’ve received from you. Come, let’s speak in private, away from curious ears, shall we?”

Mildly surprised, Amara followed her grandmother through the long, narrow hallways of the Spear to the east wing, out into the rock garden in Amara’s private courtyard.

She gazed around at her favorite place in the palace—a place that her father had hated since he thought it ugly and uninspired. But Amara had acquired each of the tens of thousands of rocks—shiny, ugly, beautiful, all sizes and colors—over her lifetime and thought them each a treasure.

“I’ve missed this place,” she said.

“I’m sure you did.”

A servant brought them a tray of wine and a selection of exotic fruits unlike anything available in Mytica. Amara’s mouth watered at the sight of them.

Neela poured them both a goblet of wine, and Amara took a deep drink.

Paelsian wine.

The same wine she’d used to poison her family.

She swallowed it down, although her stomach churned at the memory.

“Ashur is still alive,” Neela said after she too drank from her goblet.

Amara froze mid-sip, then took a moment to compose herself. “He is. He acquired the resurrection potion from your apothecary.”

“I am also told that after you captured him, he managed to escape.”

Again, Amara exhaled slowly, evenly, before she replied. “He won’t be a problem.”

“Your Ascension isn’t for nearly a week. If your brother shows his face here, if he claims the right to the title of emperor—”

“He won’t.”

“How can you be sure of that?”

“I just am. My brother is . . . preoccupied with other issues in Mytica.”

“The young man he’s come to care for far too deeply for his own good. The one who is currently the vessel for the fire Kindred.”

Amara just stared at her now, stunned. “Who told you all this?”

Neela raised her brows, taking a plump red grape from the top of the platter, inspecting it carefully before popping it in her mouth and chewing slowly. “Do you deny any of it?”

Uneasiness spread through her. Her grandmother didn’t trust her. If she did, she would have felt no need for a spy.

A very well-informed spy, it would seem.

“I don’t deny it,” Amara said, pushing back against her uncertainty. “I’ve done what I felt I must. I tried to find a way to control the Kindred. It was impossible. And now . . . well, I’ve left quite a mess behind.” Amara’s voice was shaking. “Kyan could destroy the world, madhosha. And it would be all my fault.”

Neela shook her head, her expression serene. “I’ve learned in my lifetime to control only what is possible. When something is out of my hands, I let it be free. What is done is done. The problems in Mytica are Mytica’s problems, not ours. Do you think there is a chance these elemental gods will succeed against the sorceress?”

Amara’s grip tightened on her goblet. “I don’t know.”

“Is there anything you can do to be of assistance to her?”

“I could only make things worse, I think. It’s best that I’m here now.”

“Then it is done. And what will be will be.” Neela poured herself more wine. “You should know that King Gaius Damora is dead.”

“What?” Amara fell speechless for a moment. “He’s . . . dead? How?”

“An arrow to the heart. He was halted in the middle of a speech about how he meant to defeat you and take back his precious tiny kingdom.”

Amara allowed the shock of this incredible news to wash over her.

Gaius was dead.

Her enemy. Her husband. The man who’d married her for the chance to align with her father. The man she’d briefly believed might be an asset to her reign until he betrayed her at the first opportunity.

She knew she should be pleased by this news. Had she not feared Lucia’s wrath, she would have had him executed herself.

Still, it seemed so strange that a man as powerful and as ruthless as Gaius Damora could be taken from the world by a mere arrow.

“Unbelievable,” she whispered.

“I chose the assassin well, dhosha,” Neela said.

Amara glanced up from her goblet, shocked by her grandmother’s words. “It was your doing?”

Neela nodded, her gaze steady. “King Gaius presented a potential obstacle to your future. Now you are a widow, ready to marry anyone of your choosing.”

Amara shook her head. Perhaps her grandmother expected gratitude, rather than shock, for taking this extreme step.

Could she have made such a choice?

Gaius was most definitely a problem, but one—like everything else she’d left behind—that she’d decided to deal with after her Ascension, when her power was absolute and unshakable.