Immortal Reign (Falling Kingdoms #6)(56)

“You are a murderer, just like your father, and one day you will answer for your crimes.”

Before Amara could say a word, the guard kicked Mikah in the chest. He landed flat on his back, coughing and wheezing.

“Speak with respect to the empress, or I will cut out your tongue,” the guard snarled.

Amara looked at the guard. “Leave us.”

“He was disrespectful to you.”

“I agree. But that’s not what I asked of you. Leave me to talk with Mikah in private. That is a command.”

With obvious reluctance, the guards did as she said. When they left, closing the door behind them, Amara turned toward Mikah again. He’d sat up, cradling his injured ribs with his thin arms.

“You’re right,” she said. “I did kill my father and brothers. I killed them because they stood in the way of progress—the progress that both of us want.”

“Oh, I doubt that very much,” Mikah replied.

She was used to servants doing as she said without question, but Mikah had always been argumentative and challenging. Over the years, she’d come to expect it. And, at times, she enjoyed their banter.

“I thought you liked me,” she said, then regretted it, since it came out sounding needy. “I will make a good empress, one who puts the needs of her subjects before her own, unlike my father.”

“Your father was cruel, hateful, selfish, and vain. He conquered others to amuse himself.”

“I’m not like that.”

Mikah laughed, a dark and hollow sound in his chest. “Who are you trying to convince—me or yourself? It’s a simple question, really. Will you follow in your father’s footsteps and continue to conquer lands that don’t belong to Kraeshia?”

She frowned. “Of course. One day soon, the world will belong to Kraeshia. We will be as one, and my rule will be absolute.”

Mikah shook his head. “There is no need to rule the entire world. No need to possess every weapon, every treasure, every piece of magic one can get their hands on. Freedom is what counts. Freedom for everyone—be they rich or poor. The freedom to choose our own lives, our own paths, without an absolute ruler telling us what we can and cannot do. That is what I fight for.”

Amara didn’t understand. The world he proposed would be one of chaos.

“There is a difference between those who are weak and those who are strong,” she began carefully. “The weak perish, the strong survive—and they rule and make the choices that help everything run smoothly. I know I will be a good leader. My people will love me.”

“And if they don’t?” he countered. “If they rise up and try to change what has been thrust upon them through no choice of their own, will you have them put to death?” Amara shifted uncomfortably on her feet. Mikah raised his eyebrows. “Think about this before your Ascension, because it’s very important.”

Amara tried to swallow the lump in her throat. She needed to block out what he said—to pretend that it didn’t resonate with her.

“Let me ask you one thing, Mikah,” she began. “Had you been successful in your siege of the palace—had you killed my grandmother and then been faced with me—what would you have done? Would you have let me live?”

His gaze remained steady, burning with the intelligence and intensity that made her unable to disregard everything he said as nonsense.

“No, I would have killed you,” he said.

Amara stiffened at his blunt admission, surprised he hadn’t taken the opportunity to lie. “Then you are no better than me.”

“I never said I was. However, you’re too dangerous right now, too intoxicated by your own power. But power is like a rug beneath your feet: It can be pulled away without warning.”

She shook her head. “You’re wrong.”

“Be careful with your grandmother, princess. She has her hands upon that rug beneath you. She always has.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s in control here,” he said. “You think yourself so smart to have achieved so much in such a short time. Never doubt that everything that’s happened, everything including your Ascension, is according to her plan, not yours.”

Amara’s heart pounded at his words.

“How dare you speak that way about my grandmother!” she hissed. “She is the only one who’s ever believed in me.”

“Your grandmother only believes in her own desire for power.”

It had been a mistake to come here. What had she expected? Apologies from someone she once liked and trusted? For Mikah to prostrate himself before her and beg for forgiveness?

Mikah thought she wasn’t worthy of ruling the empire. That she was as flawed and myopic as her father had been.

He was wrong.

“The next time I see you will be at my Ascension,” Amara said evenly, “where you will be publicly executed for your crimes. All gathered will witness what happens to those who stand against the future of Kraeshia. Your blood will mark the beginning of a true revolution. My revolution.”





CHAPTER 19


    LUCIA


   PAELSIA




She’d departed the palace with nothing but the dark gray gown on her back and a small purse of Auranian centimos. She’d left everything else behind, including the fire, earth, and air Kindred orbs that were locked away in a large iron box in her chambers.