Frozen Tides (Falling Kingdoms #4)(86)

Her father came to her, clasping her face between his hands and kissing her on both cheeks. “I’ve never been so proud of you, my dear daughter!”

It seemed that she’d finally won his approval. “Thank you, Father.”

“This is an incredible day—the joining of two families, two nations. A future bright with magic and power.”

She smiled. “I couldn’t agree more. As a matter of fact, I have something that will be perfect for such a celebration. It’s in my bedroom suite, if you’ll let me go get it? It’s a bottle of fine Paelsian wine.”

His eyes widened with surprise and delight. “How wonderful!”

“Yes, I completely forgot until just now that I brought it back with me from my journey. I knew you’d want to try it. And if you like it, there are two more cases still on the ship.”

“I’ve heard Paelsian wine tastes like magic itself,” Elan said.

“Yes, it sounds like the perfect way to honor this occasion,” the emperor said. “Go fetch it, Daughter. And we will toast to the future of Kraeshia.”

She left the room, her head in a daze of worry, excitement, and fear.

You don’t have to do this, a small part of her urged. There is another choice for you. If you run away, you could make a life for yourself somewhere else, somewhere far away from here.

This moment of doubt very nearly amused her.

There was no other way. She knew this. She accepted this.

Her destiny had been set in stone from the moment she’d been born.

She hurried to her room and returned to the solarium, the bottle of Paelsian wine in hand. The emperor snatched it from her, swiftly uncorked it, and poured the pale yellow wine into four goblets. Her brothers received one each, and the emperor handed the fourth to the king. “I’m afraid there isn’t enough for you, Daughter.”

“I’m afraid I must decline,” King Gaius held up his hand. “It’s against Limerian religion to indulge in inebriants.”

“What an unfortunate policy,” the emperor said. “Very well, this goblet is for you, then, Amara.”

She took the glass from him and gave a small bow. “Thank you, Father.”

The emperor held his chalice up in front of him. “To the future of the Kraeshian Empire. And to many more sons for you, Gaius. Many, many more sons! Amara, boys, drink.”

Amara took a sip of its contents and watched as her father and brothers all drained their glasses.

“This is incredible,” the emperor gasped, his eyes wide with pleasure. “As delicious as I’ve always heard. And now I’ve finally tasted it for myself. Gaius, I will need more cases delivered to the Jewel, an endless supply.”

The king nodded. “I will arrange it myself, your eminence.”

“It is quite good,” Dastan allowed.

“There’s no more?” Elan asked. “I want more.”

“Amara, have the cases waiting on your ship brought to the palace so we can continue our celebrations. I’ve already made sure to have a feast ready in anticipation of our mutual agreement today. And once you’ve returned, daughter, you must change into another gown. What you’re wearing is not appropriate for the wife of a . . .” He frowned. “Amara?”

Amara counted slowly to ten, then she began again at the start.

Her heart pounded. She couldn’t hold on, not for much longer.

Finally, when she couldn’t stop herself, she spit the wine back out into the goblet.

The emperor frowned. “What is wrong with you?”

She wiped her mouth with a silk cloth. “I know you won’t believe me, Father, but I am sorry. I wish there could have been another way.”

His quizzical expression shifted quickly to distress. He clutched his throat. “Daughter . . . what have you done?”

“Only what I had to.” She glanced at her brothers, who were also clawing at their throats and gasping.

The poison was supposed to act very quickly and not cause any pain.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, her eyes stinging.

One by one, each of her family members dropped to the ground, twitching, their faces turning purple as they stared at her with confusion, and then hatred.

Just as Ashur had.

Finally, they were still.

Amara turned to face the four guards who’d reentered the solarium during the wedding ceremony. Their hands were ready on their weapons, eyeing each other with uncertainty.

“You will not say anything about this,” she told them. “To anyone.”

“They won’t listen to you,” the king said, his voice surprisingly calm. “Felix, Milo. Take care of this.”

Felix and Milo were on the guards in seconds, flashes of steel in their grips.

The guards were dead by the time they each hit the ground.

Amara let out a slow, shaky breath, her wild gaze now meeting the king’s.

He regarded her without any accusation or shock. “I had a feeling you were up to something. But I had no idea it would be this extreme.”

“You call it extreme. I call it necessary.” She swallowed, hard, eyeing his deadly bodyguards with new apprehension. Felix had followed the king’s command. Would he kill her just as swiftly as he’d killed the guards if the king ordered him to?