by Sarra Cannon
Panic filled her when she continued to tumble across the floor with Rulf’s dying body in her hands. The last thing she needed was to reveal what she was to Titus. She never wanted him to discover the monster that lived inside her, especially not like this. The sunlight flashed on a metal sword that protruded from the opening door, and she gathered the last of her strength to shove the body toward it.
A man grunted on the other side, but she’d gotten what she’d hoped for. A blood-tinged blade now poked through Rulf’s chest, its hilt firmly in the hands of the captain of the Legion.
Azurha sat back on her heels, her body now sagging under the weight of exhaustion. It was over, done. There was only one thing left for her know. She turned to Titus and saw him reaching for her, alive and well.
His arms wrapped around her and pulled her so her ear pressed against his pounding heart. “Thank the gods you’re not hurt.”
The stabbing pain in her ribs would have argued, but she let her body melt into his embrace while he covered her face with kisses. She looked up at him and searched his face for any signs of disgust, of horror, but saw only concern. He hadn’t seen her break Rulf’s neck, then. She was safe.
He held her chin in his hand, looking into her eyes as though searching for signs of madness. “Why did you attack him?”
She weighed her words carefully. “Because he was trying to kill you, Titus.”
“You silly, stubborn woman.” He wrapped her in his arms and rocked back and forth.
The intensity of his embrace tempered her urge to laugh out loud. Had she not been thinking the same thing about him less than an hour ago? Perhaps they were better suited for each other than she imagined. She recalled the way he had attacked Rulf, and a shiver coursed down her spine. She’d seen the warrior within him, something few people suspected existed beneath his scholarly exterior, and hope bloomed within her. If anyone dared to challenge his plans for the empire, they’d find themselves facing a formidable ruler.
If only he lived long enough to see his plans carried out.
The captain of the Legion approached and kneeled before them, his head hung low. “My upmost apologies for allowing your life to come in peril, Emperor Sergius. I have failed to protect you. If you wish to relieve me of my command—”
“Why would I do that, Galerius? Both Azurha and I are alive. Our attackers are either dead or have fled the scene. You and your men fought bravely. There is nothing more to discuss.”
“Yes, Your Imperial Majesty.” Galerius bowed once more and returned to Rulf’s body. He tugged his sword out and flipped the body over, carefully inspecting it. Furrows creased his brow, and Azurha held her breath. “May I inquire what happened in here?”
Titus released her and joined the captain. “He came in through a hole in the roof. Azurha and I took turns attacking him, and she had just managed to wrestle him off me when you finished him.” He kicked the corpse with his foot. “Any idea who he was?”
“Rulf,” Galerius replied in a clipped tone. He used his sword to push the pirate’s head back to a more natural angle and flicked his cool gray gaze on her. “How very fortunate that you were not alone.”
You will never find a knot you cannot unravel.
Azurha couldn’t hold back the shiver that snaked down her spine. He knows I killed him.
Galerius pointed to the stream of blood dripping down Titus’s arm. “You are wounded, Emperor Sergius. Perhaps you should have a healer tend to you before it worsens.”
Titus wiped his wound on his tunic, staining it red. “It’s hardly more than a scratch. Have the healer tend to those more seriously hurt. I’d rather inspect the damage and see if we can return to Emona without the ship falling apart on us.”
At least Rulf wasn’t the type to coat his blade with poison, which was one small blessing. Azurha tore a strip of material from her stola and approached Titus. Every inch of her body protested the movement, but she fought to keep her inner grimace from showing. “You should cover it with a bandage so you don’t worry your men.”
Titus held out his arm and allowed her to wrap the strip around his arms and tie the ends in a knot. “Thank you, my love. Do you think you’ll be safe here alone while I’m gone?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” She lowered her head, worried that the captain would reveal her secret any moment now.
“Stay here, and for once, try to obey me.” He gave her hand a squeeze and then disappeared through the doors.
Captain Galerius lingered in the stateroom. Even though she didn’t see it, she could still feel him watching her every move. How long would he wait before he plunged his sword into her heart? One minute? Five?
Azurha retreated to a corner and pretended to clean up the disaster that was the stateroom, trying to appear as natural as she could without raising his suspicions further. “I’ll be fine, Captain Galerius. There’s no need for you watch over me.”
Galerius joined her and offered her a chair. “You should rest and let the slaves tend to these matters.”
Their gazes locked, and a knot formed in Azurha’s gut when she saw the suspicion on his face. She sank into the chair. “Thank you for killing Rulf.”
A muscle rippled along his jaw, doubling her unease. Sweat prickled her palms, and her mouth went dry. She waited for him to draw his sword and declare her a threat to the emperor, but he remained frozen. At last, he said, “Not many women would have the strength nor the skill to take on a man twice their size.”
Her pulse pounded in her temples. She took her time carefully choosing her words. “When the emperor’s life is in danger, we do what we must.”
“The gods must have smiled on him today for granting him such felicitous luck to have you as his travelling companion. We both know you’re the one who saved his life, not me.” He backed away from her, carefully navigating the debris until he came to Rulf’s body. He nudged it with his foot until the neck formed such a grotesque angle that even a child could tell it was broken. “I’ll have my men remove this in a few minutes.”
As soon as the doors closed and she was alone, Azurha pressed her balled fist into her mouth to keep her sob of relief from breaking free. Thank the gods he hadn’t challenged her. A chill seeped through her exhausted body, causing her hands to tremble uncontrollably.
In the past, she had killed without fear. She didn’t worry about losing anything—not even her life—because she had nothing to really lose. She’d gone from being a slave to being a rootless assassin. No place to call home. No friends. No family other than Cassius. Nothing of value other than what she carried with her.
All that changed when she met Titus. Now she feared losing him more than anything.
And that opened up a whole new set of problems, for if anyone knew her weakness, they’d exploit it. In an instant, everything could be taken away from her. Just one small word from Galerius could have Titus calling for her head.
She’d grown soft, weak. She’d gotten too close to her target and had opened her heart to him. From now on, she’d live in fear that someone would eventually expose her, that someone would succeed where she had failed. How much longer could she live this lie?
Azurha pulled her knees up to her chest and squeezed them until her lungs burned. Her eyes stung, but no tears fell. Crying wouldn’t help anything. Action would. But choosing the right course of action was far more complicated than she would prefer.
Minutes ticked by while she weighed her options. She could stay with Titus and hope she’d be able to save him like she had today, but the increasing body count would raise suspicions. She could leave and take out his enemies, one by one—her own personal crusade—but at the end of the day, she’d only have the shadows to cling to.
The soft slap of leather sandals on the wooden floor pulled her from her thoughts, and her body tensed. Titus approached her with caution slowing his movements. Her mouth went dry. Did Galerius tell him about Rulf? She braced for his censure, for his order to toss her over
the rails of the airship.
Instead, he sat next to her and pulled her into his arms with a tenderness she would never deserve. She let her head fall against his chest, savoring the calm beat of his heart, and the tension eased from her muscles. Her fears were unfounded, at least for now.
“I never asked if you were hurt,” he said. His voice cracked with fatigue, and she wondered what had worn him out on the deck outside.
“A few scratches and bruises. Nothing more.”
“That should be easy enough to fix.” His hands moved over her battered ribs, and a strange hum resonated deep within her.
It drove out the chill, fear, and pain that had consumed her since the attack. Both her body and soul knew peace from his touch. She was safe and loved, something she’d never known until now, and she meant to hold onto it for as long as the gods would grant her. “That better?”
“Yes.” She burrowed deeper into his embrace, never wanting to leave.
Chapter 22
Azurha remained so still and quiet in his arms, Titus could have sworn she’d fallen asleep, but the moment the rooftops of Emona came into view, she gathered his tunic into her fists. He smoothed her hair and said, “I know. I don’t want to go back to the palace, either.”
That wasn’t completely the truth. He longed for a long soak in the tepidarium followed by a massage from one of the slaves. The day’s events had left a mass of knots in his shoulders, and he knew it wasn’t over yet. Too many questions remained unanswered, too many issues left unaddressed. How many things could wait until tomorrow? He stretched the cramps out of his legs and groaned.
Azurha lifted her head, worry creasing lines into her face. “Did anyone tend to your injuries?”
“Yes, but that still doesn’t prevent me from feeling completely exhausted.” He’d focused his magic on saving those that could be saved, but he’d lost three members of the Legion and more than half of his advisors during the attack.
She jumped to her feet and helped him stand. For the first time since the attack, he took in her appearance. Her disheveled hair tumbled over her shoulders, and blood splattered her torn dress. How she managed to escape without more serious injuries still amazed him, but he wouldn’t question the gods’ mercy. So many things had fallen their way today. How much longer would his luck last?
She caught him staring at her and ran her fingers through her tangled curls. “I must look awful.”
If she had been any Deizian woman, he would have agreed with her. They never left the house without their hair perfectly in place and their clothing immaculate. But when he remembered how she fought off Rulf without any fear, his chest tightened. She bore the bloodstains as proudly as any member of the Legion. “Don’t worry about your appearance. You showed far more courage today than any woman I’ve ever known, and that makes you beautiful.”
But his reassurances didn’t seem to convince her, and she hung behind him as they made their way outside. A gaping hole in the center of the deck marred the once immaculate mahogany, surrounded by singe marks from the black power cannons Rulf had used on them. The timbers groaned under his feet, but they bore him safely so long as he stayed close the railings.
The ship hovered over the landing pad at the palace, dropping slower than normal to avoid stressing the damaged ship any further. Twilight stretched over the city, and the lights flickering in the windows mimicked the stars that appeared overhead. Normally, he would have taken a moment to enjoy it all, to soak in the peacefulness of it, but the sight of the broken mast and the bodies wrapped in white sheets reminded him that something sinister had tainted the day. He needed to speak to Marcus, and soon.
The second the ship hit solid ground, his mother ran from the palace with Marcus two steps behind her. “Thank the gods you’re safe,” she said as she wrapped her arms around him. “When we heard your ship had been attacked,I worried I would have to plan a second funeral in less than a moon.”
He returned his mother’s embrace. “As you can see, I’m quite well.”
“Just one thing.” She pulled away and cupped his cheeks in her hands so he couldn’t look anywhere else but at her face. At first, he thought it was unshed tears glittering in her eyes. Then he realized it was fierce anger, the kind mothers showed when their children are harmed. “Please tell me that bastard is dead because if he isn’t, I’ll gladly finish him off.”
Normally, such strong language from an Empress would have shocked those who overheard it, but Titus laughed. This was the mother he knew, the one that he’d fallen asleep listening to as she discussed the cares of the empire with his father in their private chambers. “Captain Galerius robbed you of that honor.”
“I suppose that’s for the best. I’d hate to ruin my stola over scum like that.”
At the mention of a ruined dress, he searched for Azurha. He found her lingering on the gangplank of the ship, her arms crossed over her chest in an unusual display of insecurity. She licked her lips and fiddled with her hair when she caught him looking at her.
He stepped back and grabbed her hand. Her icy fingers sent a shiver coursing through him, and he wondered what had changed in the last few hours. Despite the courage she’d displayed during the attack, perhaps she’d been more shaken by it than she let on.
“Azurha, I’d like for you to meet my mother.”
That seemed to jerk her from her hesitations. She straightened her posture, lifting her chin to mirror his mother’s stance, and then sank down into a graceful curtsey. “Your Imperial Majesty,” she murmured.
Then, much to his pleasure, his mother nodded her head in return—the same greeting she would give any Deizian noblewoman. “So very nice to finally meet you, Azurha.”
Her lips twitched in a half-smile, a response he felt on his own lips. If his mother would accept her as more than an Alpirion, perhaps the rest of the empire would follow. “Azurha’s bravery is part of the reason I’m unharmed.”
His mother’s eyes widened for a second, but then her smile blossomed. “Then you have my gratitude.”
A wave of color rose into Azurha’s cheeks, and she turned away, shifting her gaze to the ground. “Please forgive my appearance. I should return to the harem and make myself presentable.”
She tried to slide her hand from his, but he tightened his grip. She was back to pushing him away again. “You are my consort. You do not belong there anymore.”
“Maybe, but I know that you need to clean up, too, and I should not be sharing a bath with you.” She gave him a discreet smile, one that spoke of their shared baths in the past that usually ended in both of them reaching the point of post-orgasmic exhaustion.
If there hadn’t been an entourage of onlookers, he would have pulled her into his arms and kissed her until there was no doubt left in her mind that she would be sharing a bath with him. Her fingers twisted with his, massaging his palm and tempting him further. The exhaustion fled from him his body, and all he could think about was how much he wanted to be buried inside her.
Varro cleared his throat, and Azurha’s hand fell from his. “I’ll escort Lady Azurha to the harem and send some slaves to tend to her.” He added under his breath, “Thankfully, Lady Claudia has already vacated the premises.”
One less thing for him to worry about. He watched Azurha until she disappeared behind the palace doors, hoping he’d be able to enjoy some private time with her sooner rather than later.
“Yes, a very lovely girl. Her coloring is absolutely striking.” His mother moved beside him and followed his gaze to the door. “But it seems she is more than just a pretty face.”
“Most definitely.”
Marcus stepped forward. “What happened?”
The tone of his voice told Titus that he already knew the basics, and the drawn expression on his face said he knew more about this than they did. Marcus flicked his eyes to the former Empress and nodded, indicating that he would share all he knew once they were behind closed doors.
“It’s as you see it,�
�� Titus said, eager to soothe his mother’s nerves. “Rulf and his men attacked, boarded the ship, and paid for their impertinence.” As far as the empire was concerned, that was all that needed to be known. “Perhaps this will serve as a warning to anyone foolish enough to try such a thing.”
“We’ll hang the pirates’ bodies around the city,” Galerius added, and Titus inwardly cringed. His ancestors had used such crude means of keeping the citizens in line. In a few days, the stench would be overwhelming. Not the way he would’ve liked to usher in his coronation.
Right now, though, all he cared about was washing away the grime that coated his skin and finding out what Marcus knew. His friend, his mother, and the captain of the Legion all followed him into his chambers. His mother sat in a chair in the main chambers while the men followed him to the baths, and once they were alone, Marcus said, “Tell me what really happened.”
“I will, but let me get cleaned up first.” Titus stripped the clothes from his body and dove into the warm water of the tepidarium. It would take much longer to soak the stress of the day from his body than he could afford at this moment. He settled for giving his skin a quick scrub and swam back to the side. “This was more than a random attack.”
“Tell me somethingI didn’t know,” Marcus said and handed him a towel.
“Rulf mentioned something about collecting two bounties today. You don’t suppose he was the Rabbit, do you?” He started drying off
Galerius snorted. “Not likely for two reasons. The first is that Rulf always seemed to have a tight alibi whenever the Rabbit killed a rival. Second, he was too big and stupid.”
“Agreed.” Marcus tossed him a robe. “Everything I’ve heard about the Rabbit points to speed, stealth, and intelligence—three things Rulf lacked.”
Titus’s gut twisted. “So that means the Rabbit is still out there.”
Marcus nodded. “And the bounty must be quite substantial for someone like Rulf to go after you himself. Normally, he prefers not to sully his hands in these matters.”
