The Fractured Empire (The World Apart Series Book 1)

by Robin D. Mahle

  The Fractured Empire

  Robin D. Mahle

  Copyright © 2018 by Robin D. Mahle

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  “We’re all stories, in the end. Just make it a good one, eh?”

  — The Doctor, Season 5, Episode 13

  Contents

  The Heiress

  Chapter One

  The Renegade

  Chapter Two

  The Heiress

  Chapter Three

  The Renegade

  Chapter Four

  The Heiress

  Chapter Five

  The Renegade

  Chapter Six

  The Heiress

  Chapter Seven

  The Renegade

  Chapter Eight

  The Heiress

  Chapter Nine

  The Renegade

  Chapter Ten

  The Heiress

  Chapter Eleven

  The Renegade

  Chapter Twelve

  The Heiress

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Renegade

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Heiress

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Renegade

  Chapter Sixteen

  The Heiress

  Chapter Seventeen

  The Renegade

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Heiress

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Renegade

  Chapter Twenty

  The Heiress

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The Renegade

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The Heiress

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The Renegade

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Heiress

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The Renegade

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The Heiress

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The Renegade

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The Heiress

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The Renegade

  Chapter Thirty

  The Heiress

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The Renegade

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Robin D. Mahle

  The Heiress

  For my sister and me, the party had been little more than an excuse to gorge on ice cream and cake. For the rest of the Ceithren Empire, that day marked the end of the years-long campaign against the insurgents from The Other Side of the World.

  Alpina Island had been mostly untouched by the war, aside from the few of our men who had volunteered. Still, the celebration was held across the entire empire. Our tiny island was no exception.

  There had been other girls close to our ages, but I always stayed right next to Amelie. Though my sister made friends as easily as she breathed, I could never quite seem to relate to the other girls. I had heard adults say it was because I was precocious.

  Less kind ones would use words like "difficult" and "willful," but my mother always corrected them. "Strong," she would say in her own iron voice. "Determined." And then she would look at me with nothing but pride in her jade eyes, and their opinions didn't matter as much.

  My mother, like my sister, excelled at charming people. It helped that they were both stunning, with long golden locks and deep green eyes, but even without that, people gravitated toward them. And away from me.

  Amelie told me I held people at arm's length. She thought if I chose my words more carefully, things would be different. But trust never had come easily to me, and I had only ever tried to be honest.

  "Addie, someday you'll have to branch out and make other friends. What if I'm not always here to keep you company?" My sister had said that day with all the wisdom her extra two years afforded her.

  "Don't be ridiculous, Ami. I'll just follow you if you try to leave." I had stuck my tongue out at her. Really, though, where would she be going that I couldn't? I thought. Our quaint mountainous island was small, and we had always agreed we would wait until we could both go explore the world outside it.

  "You're not thinking of going to the Ever Falls without me, are you?" I had asked, trying and failing at nonchalance.

  "Of course not. I couldn't even have fun without my best friend." She had stuck out her pinky, and I had linked it with mine.

  My anxiety had slowly ebbed out of me, replaced by excitement. I remember bouncing on the balls of my feet, sure in the knowledge that we would travel together like we had always planned. Hours had been spent pouring over maps and pictures of the place where the world was divided.

  And after that, who knew? We could sail the Tempest Sea or go looking for the lost land of Levelia, or travel to every island, even the tiny uninhabited ones. I loved Alpina Island, but there was so much to see and do. I wanted all of it. Eight more years, and we could be off adventuring together. I clung tighter to her pinky. She was all I needed.

  Chapter One

  ADELAIDE

  A polite knock sounded at the door to the many-roomed lavatory, but I ignored it. I had locked it for a reason. I pulled my silver flask out of my purse and let the amber liquid glide down my throat. That, combined with the small reprieve the lavish room offered, might be enough to bolster me for the appalling evening awaiting me outside the gilded door.

  The cooling vents didn’t extend to this powder room, but being alone was well worth the sweat building underneath my corset. The plush velvet of the chaise lounge I was sunken into was too warm for the humid climate of Central Island. Here in the Palace, luxury beat out practicality every time. I rolled my eyes and searched for the will to reenter the crowded ballroom. I had been in here too long already. My father would be looking for me.

  With a resigned sigh, I heaved myself up and went to check my reflection for any signs of distress. Years of life with the elite had taught me to don beauty like an armor. Not that I would be considered beautiful. I lacked the symmetrical features of my mother and sister, but with enough money, anyone could fake it. And I had that in spades.

  Neither my carefully applied cosmetics nor my painfully perfect updo showed a single sign of my misery. I looked closer. There, at the corner of my too-large brown eyes was the pinched look of grief. I took another swig from my flask and stared myself down in the mirror until my heart-shaped face took on what I lovingly thought of as my “heiress expression.” Bored eyes, condescending quirk of the lips, haughty tilt to the chin.

  A brown leather corset adorned my crimson mermaid-style gown. The only part of my outfit I had chosen was the necklace I never took off. I rubbed my fingers along the gears of the bronze heart, letting the familiar movement soothe my frazzled nerves.

  Even trussed up like a fashionable doll, I looked younger than my nearly eighteen years. My birthday loomed in front of me like the seas beyond our island, dark and churning, but unavoidable. My gut wrenched at the thought.

  My eighteenth birthday was supposed to be exciting. It was supposed to mark the start of my adventures with Amelie. Facing it alone was unthinkable. Undoable. And yet, I had no choice.

  Still, my looming birthday was nothing compared to today. Five years ago today, an explosion had taken the lives of my mother and sister. The Silent Explosion, it was aptly called. There had been no warning sounds — not before, and not during. Just an e
erie blue light and a gaping hole where a giant section of Fourth Sector had been seconds before. Thousands of lives were obliterated without so much as a rumble.

  Then the buildings around the original blast site had started to crumble, the destruction spreading in a three-kilometer radius. That’s when the screaming had started. The silence was over, but the damage had been done.

  This year, Emperor Gaspard, in his infinite wisdom, had announced that instead of grieving as the empire usually did, we would have a day of rebirth. We would move on from this tragedy a stronger, united people. I would have gladly abstained from his ordained day of not giving a damn about what had happened to my family, but my father, the Director of Redshaw Corporation, had staunchly objected to that course of action.

  Redshaw had started as a financial consulting firm, but it was quickly becoming the most powerful force in the empire — more powerful than the imperial family, according to some. This wasn’t an unfair assessment, given that it was Redshaw’s soldiers who now patrolled our island city and policed the empire’s crime, but it was a dangerous one. Though the emperor and his desire to protect his treasury were largely responsible for Redshaw’s prominent position, tensions between Redshaw and Emperor Gaspard had been running high as of late.

  The elite had been largely unaffected by the explosion. It had taken place in the southern part of Fourth Sector, where the slums were located. Mama and Amelie had been volunteering in a soup kitchen when it happened, making our family the rare exception in Second Sector. Whether this infernal ball had been a direct attack on my family or not was inconsequential. For me to abstain would have been seen as a slight to the Emperor, one we couldn’t afford to make. At least, that’s what my father had said when he threatened one of the only things left in this world I cared about these days — my upcoming venture to the Ever Falls.

  The trip to the chasm that split the world was perilous, but it was said to be worth it for the awe-inspiring sight of the falls cascading into nothingness. I couldn’t dredge up the excitement I once had, but the determination remained. I tightened my hold on the locket that held a small portion of my sister’s ashes.

  The Director knew how important it was to me to take what I had left of Amelie on this journey, to let part of her rest in the place we had dreamed of visiting together. And like the shrewd businessman he was, he bartered with that knowledge to his advantage. So, I agreed to play the part of the loyal subject, dutifully following the emperor’s wisdom; though, some tiny, naïve part of me had hoped he would use his considerable influence on my behalf for a change.

  Sometimes I hated the shell of a man my father had become without my mother’s kindness to temper him, but the hypocrisy of that emotion coming from me took too much energy to maintain. After all, who was I without my sister to balance me? I didn’t really want to think about the answer to that question, especially not tonight.

  Satisfied I hadn’t left a trace of emotion to fuel the gossipmongers’ fire, I reluctantly left my tiny haven. The well-dressed woman on the other side of the door wiped the annoyed expression from her features when she saw who had been delaying her entry, and she shuffled inside.

  I should have felt bad. After all, I could have gone up to the suites in the east wing of the palace. That would have taken too long, though. And the truth was that I hated these people a little more with every thinly-veiled remark they spoke behind their phony smiles.

  The exception to that rule was striding toward me now. Prince Perry would have had no trouble keeping his bed warm even if he hadn’t been royalty. He was six lean feet of mocha-colored elegance topped off with a debonair smile. The jade shirt peeking out beneath his fitted leather suit offset his chocolate eyes, and an ornate sword dangled at his side, indicative of his position. Only royalty and Red Sons were allowed to carry swords. And my father, of course.

  But unlike the emperor’s sword, I knew the prince’s was more than merely ornamental. He had spent much of our teenage years practicing, even going so far as to try to teach me. He stopped pushing when I nearly severed my toe.

  “Adelaide, darling, I couldn’t help but notice the dimming of the room when your sparkling presence departed. I thought to come find you.”

  His over-the-top dialect brought out a real smile, if a wry one. It was too bad I couldn’t roll my eyes at the heir to the empire in public, a fact he used to his advantage at every turn. I hadn’t missed his subtle way of letting me know my absence had been noted.

  Merde. I knew I had stayed too long.

  He had long since mastered the art of concealing what he wanted to say from listening ears, a skill I would likely never master. On the other hand, my step remained steady, despite copious amounts of whiskey. I wasn’t completely without talents.

  “Prince Percival, I simply couldn’t bear the thought that I had done anything to mar His Majesty’s enjoyment of the evening. Please forgive any pain my absence might have caused you. I do hope you’ve had enough company to comfort you in the interim.” I was sure we were the only two people in the bustling hallways who knew how sarcastic I was being. Maybe I had begun to master that skill after all.

  Mirth sparkled in Perry’s eyes. “Sadly, I am, indeed, inundated with company. As you have refused to marry me, I’ll be enjoying all that the Fenari Island Princess has to offer tonight.” Fenari, like every country on our side of the world, was part of the Ceithren Empire. The two of them wouldn’t be parting ways after the party ended, if I knew Perry.

  I lifted my eyebrow to convey that thought, and the corner of his mouth twitched. I pointedly ignored the first part of that statement. My father had offered me another means to make the costly trip across the seas. Marry the Prince, have my own income, become empress one day. Unite the two most powerful forces in Ceithre and help rebuild our war-torn, post-explosion society.

  Just the thought of it made me break out in hives. As The Director’s daughter, I had limited freedom. As Princess, I would have almost none. Besides, I couldn’t even repair my own broken soul, much less all of Ceithre’s.

  Fortunately, no law was in place to force my hand, so my refusal would stand. Still, the prince was a longtime acquaintance, and I enjoyed his company. I didn’t have to feign my disappointment when we parted ways, and I headed back to my own viper’s nest of a table. My father sat stiffly, clad in his usual combination of red and black leather to represent Redshaw. To his left was a middle-aged couple. Even I could tell those two were doing their very best to ingratiate themselves with the notoriously unsocial Director. The seat to his right was empty, being that it was mine. It was the other four seats at the table that had so strongly fueled my desire to flee in the first place.

  The Benedict family was nearly as powerful as my own. In fact, in a different world, they would have mirrored mine down to a person. Except, I never would have been the hateful wretch that was the young woman seated ever so unfortunately to my right. Sophie Benedict had attempted on more than one occasion to recruit me into her ruling circle of girls at our exclusive school. I had declined, and she had made my life as aggravating as she dared without outright crossing me. Tonight would be no exception, I was sure.

  Her sister, Guinevere, hadn’t seemed nearly as bad. She was closer to Amelie’s age, and I wondered if they would have been friends if Ami hadn’t always been so tied down by her socially-inept younger sibling. I pushed that thought away with the rest of them. I just needed to get through this evening. I could do this. For my sister, I would do this. I would fail if I let every stray memory and thought and what-if rise unbidden in my mind. I resolved myself to having more discipline.

  I searched the crowd for my bodyguard, Locke. His presence always grounded me, but as it wouldn’t do to imply security here was lacking, he had been relegated to the perimeter with the other Red Sons. I spotted him in a sea of black leather uniforms with crimson piping. His had a unique insignia, recognizable by nearly every citizen in the Empire, and feared by most of them.

  As
though Locke knew what I needed, he nodded once when my eyes found his deep red and bronze helmet. He held up five fingers subtly by his side. Right. Five breaths, counting backwards.

  Five. I’ll sit in this chair and stay for the remainder of the evening.

  Four. I’ll keep my expression bland while I admire the opulent ballroom and enjoy the unique cooling system that keeps me from melting into a puddle of leather and bronze and cosmetics on the floor.

  Three. I will make polite conversation with every random stranger who comes to comfort me with an invasive hand or shoulder pat. Even if that comfort is only a means to engage my father in business talk.

  Two. This room is not getting smaller, and the people in it are not getting closer.

  One. I can do this.

  I slowly let out my fifth breath as I perched on the edge of my chair, my back ramrod straight. My father’s jaw clenched ever so slightly when he took me in from the corner of his eye, but he said nothing. You’d think I had been gone an hour, not the fifteen minutes the golden grandfather clock showed. I wished it had been an hour.