Immortal Reign(97)



Amara searched her face, now uncertain. Could this be the truth? That someone else had found the wine and poisoned it? “I know you called my mother that. Your jewel. And I know she died for me . . . because of the potion. Perhaps you blame me for that.”

“No, I don’t blame you.” Neela’s eyes narrowed. “Your mother died because your father was evil and cruel and heartless. And now he’s dead, and I can dance upon his grave—and the graves of all men like him in this world. Now, I ask you again, are these rebels forcing your hand?”

Amara looked down at the peaceful face of Lyssa, nestled in Neela’s arms. Surely, her grandmother had held her like this, had cared for her when she was only a baby—a baby whose mother had been taken before her time.

And then the clouds parted outside. A ray of sun shone through a window at the far end of the room. Amara noticed something glinting in Neela’s grip, partially hidden beneath the blanket and pressed against the baby’s stomach.

A knife.

Amara took a shallow breath in. “Yes,” she forced the word out. “They are. They rescued Mikah and told me that if I didn’t bring them here, they would kill me.”

“I knew it!” Felix growled. “I will kill you before you leave this room, you deceitful bitch.”

“No, you won’t,” Neela said, revealing the blade for them to see as well.

“Please don’t!” Nerissa held out her hands and shook her head. “Don’t hurt the child!”

“If I do, it will only be because you gave me no other choice. It will be your fault entirely.” Neela shook her head. “And such a waste to spill even a drop of this baby’s precious blood. So here is how this will work. The two of you will leave here immediately and rejoin your friends downstairs, who, no doubt, have been captured by now, as they were the last time they attempted a siege upon the Spear. Then you will all be executed—the more blood spilled at my granddaughter’s Ascension, the better and more memorable it will be.”

Amara hadn’t moved, had barely breathed, as she’d listened to her grandmother calmly explain all this.

“And you . . .” Neela addressed Amara now. “I must say, your actions today worry me.”

Amara shook her head. “They shouldn’t. I am still with you in all ways, madhosha. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have everything I have today.” She needed to play along, needed to convince her grandmother she was trustworthy.

And a horrible part of her, a scared and dark part she wasn’t proud of, wanted to erase her deal with Felix and Nerissa, to have everything go back to the way it was before, when the world was hers to do with as she pleased now that she had enough power to wield.

“I have been your greatest advisor,” Neela said. “I know you’ve struggled with some decisions you’ve had to make, such as with Ashur. But you did choose to kill him, just as you killed your father and two other brothers. You did that, not me.”

“I know,” Amara whispered.

Neela took a step forward. With Lyssa cradled in one arm, she reached her other hand out and stroked Amara’s check.

“You need me, dhosha. I’ve given you everything you’ve ever desired, and yet now you look at me with such doubt that it breaks my heart. But it can still be all right.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Nerissa hissed. “She fills your head with lies.”

Amara tried to ignore her, tried to focus only on her grandmother’s face.

“It can?” she whispered.

“Yes. However, sadly, today it seems that you lost your mind, dhosha.”

Amara shook her head. “I haven’t lost my mind.”

“But you have,” Neela insisted. “I have seen this madness coming upon you ever since you lost your beloved father and brothers. I’ve documented it, but I had hoped it wouldn’t escalate to this.”

“What are you talking about?” Amara’s heart began to beat fast and hard. “I’m not mad!”

“I’ve found a place for you, somewhere safe, where you can recover your mind. It will be peaceful, so very peaceful, and I promise to visit you regularly. There are others like you there, others afflicted by this confusion that has caused you to hurt so many people I know you love, including me. I hope that the actions I’ve taken will help you heal, my beloved dhosha. And during your absence, for as long as it takes, I will rule in your place.”

Amara stared at her grandmother as the rest of her world began crashing down all around her.

“You planned this all along,” she said, the words like jagged rocks in her throat.

Those of a lower class, if they lost their minds, were allowed to leave this life gently, with the hope that they would be cured for their next life. But those of the royal class were given the opportunity to heal during this life.

Locked away in a forgetting room—but one in a madhouse, where its prisoners were told it was for their own good, not because of a specific crime they’d committed.

But Amara knew the experience was the same in all other ways.

Forgotten for years—decades.

Sometimes until their natural death.

Neela sent a glare toward Felix and Nerissa, who were still watching silently. “Put down your weapons and walk away, or I fear my granddaughter will hurt this child, and I can’t do a thing about it.” She moved the tip of the blade upward to Lyssa’s small, vulnerable throat.

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