Seas of Crimson Silk (Burning Empire Book 1)

by Emma Hamm

  “I love this land, its people, even the sandstorms. I will stand by your side, protect you from harm as best I can. I hope, in time, that you will understand why I’m doing this. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want you to fear me. Understand, I am a boy king no longer. I’m just a man, fighting for his kingdom.”

  He fell silent, meeting the gazes of those around him. His arm felt heavy, even though he had no feeling in his fingertips. His legs dangled into the air.

  It wasn’t an adult who reached for him, but a child that slipped free from the front of the crowd and reached up to touch his foot.

  Nadir stared down at the boy, all round cheeks and large eyes.

  “Sultan,” the boy said, “Thank you for saving us.”

  The sentiment was repeated until it lifted into the clouds. Nadir stilled his face, forcing tears to stay in his eyes.

  And then, the words changed into a chant that would change his life forever. The Bymerians would no longer call him the boy king.

  So began the reign of the God King.

  Epilogue

  Sigrid clutched the side of the Red Palace, her hand on the edge of the crumbling balcony that would lead her back to where this all started. Her heart thundered in her chest, and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath.

  Would he still be there? Would he be happy to see her? She felt guilty for even thinking such thoughts. He didn’t deserve them.

  He’d made his choice, and it hadn’t been her. Although she could understand where he was coming from, she couldn’t forgive it. The Bymerians were his people and his past. She had simply hoped that she might be his future.

  Her fingers flexed and she hauled herself up the cliff edge and onto the balcony. She landed in a crouch, the tight-fitting leather pants Brynhild had given her keeping her movements quiet. The soft leather had been a staple in the area where Brynhild was from. Most of the women had taken to wearing them, and Sigrid enjoyed them just as much as the others.

  She blew a breath at her hair and tugged the scarf around her neck over her face. Now that they’d seen her face, she had to be even more careful. She couldn’t wander around the Red Palace without being painfully obvious.

  Barefoot, she padded to the door and pressed her spine against the wall beside it. She leaned carefully in the shadows to peer through the carved slats. Nadir’s private quarters were just as she remembered them, and for some reason that made her chest squeeze painfully.

  The pools bubbled in the corners, one leaking out onto the floor, his bed the same, even the desk seemed to have the exact same amount of papers.

  Movement in the corner of the room caught her eye. A pile of silken fabric lifted, and for a moment her heart stopped as she wondered if he’d already moved a concubine into his quarters. But it was a little girl who lifted her pretty head. Her large eyes overpowered all her other features, and she crawled out of the pile to race to the desk.

  She quickly ducked underneath the lip of it, hiding. Sigrid only had a moment to frown before she heard the door to Nadir’s bedroom open.

  The creaking sound echoed for a moment, but no footsteps entered. She held her breath, her eyes remaining on the child.

  Who was she? Was this the Beastkin that Nadir wanted her to help, or was it a child he’d recently discovered was his?

  Three footsteps then a pause. A very familiar sigh reached her ears and then Nadir said, “A’dab. I know you’re in here. It’s just me. You don’t have to be afraid.”

  The little girl crawled out just enough to peek over the lip of the desk.

  Sigrid leaned just enough so that she could see the grin on Nadir’s face. His hair was disheveled, clothing far too plain to befit a sultan, but he looked well. His right arm was still in a sling, wounded from their battle.

  “Just me.” He held his good arm out to the side and waited for the little girl to come out from her hiding spot. “When are you going to trust me, little one?”

  The frown on the little girl’s face made Sigrid cover her mouth to hide a laughing huff of air. The child was a smart one, then. Nadir might have taken her into the palace, but he was still the man who was hunting her kind and supporting the people who wanted all Beastkin dead.

  To Sigrid’s surprise, the girl still moved forward a few steps. “You aren’t bringing the guards?” she asked.

  “I said I wouldn’t. I’ve already reached out to my friend. She’s going to help you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  A shadow crossed his expression, but Sigrid waited to hear his words. “She wouldn’t leave you here. Not with me.”

  Sigrid’s heart stuttered as if he had taken it in his fist and squeezed. The sadness and regret she saw reflected in his eyes was nearly enough to send her to her knees. He hadn’t wanted to make the choices he’d made.

  And it made everything infinitely more difficult.

  She stepped out of the shadows of the balcony and into the heated warmth of his private quarters. At first, he didn’t notice her. Another flaw in his ridiculous protection that could easily end in the death of their sultan.

  His gaze flicked up, and she froze in place. The heat of a thousand suns burned in those yellow eyes the instant they met hers. She felt as though flames licked up from her toes, and her own vision shifted as her pupils turned to slits.

  It was strange how he still had that effect on her. After all that he’d chosen, the betrayal she’d felt when she left, Sigrid had thought she would feel nothing when she saw him again.

  She had been wrong.

  Nadir slowly straightened from his crouch. “Sigrid.”

  “Nadir.”

  The fire in his eyes burned brighter. “Little one, go sneak into the kitchens. You’ll need food for this journey. Take whatever you want and make sure the cook doesn’t catch you.”

  The little girl didn’t need to be told twice. She fled from the room without a backward glance, not even taking the time to see who had entered the room through the balcony. Smart child. She knew not to look danger in the eye, even if that danger wasn’t meant for her.

  “You came,” Nadir said, taking a step toward her.

  “I did.” But she didn’t know how to feel about it now. He stared at her with such heat that she almost didn’t recognize him. This wasn’t the boy she had left. Nadir stood with a man’s confidence and radiated a man’s desire.

  “For the girl,” he said, his voice a low rumble.

  “Of course. I couldn’t leave her here, not with what’s happening.”

  “The war?”

  “Ending soon. My people have already won the first battle.” She took a step back. “Why didn’t you stop it, when only you could have?”

  The simple question broke the chains that held him back. Nadir surged forward, his hands reaching for the loose fabric of her shirt, and yanked her against him.

  His fingers crushed folds of cotton, his knuckles burning through the thin material until she could feel them against her ribs. He leaned down until his breath fanned across her face, his nose nearly touching hers, his lips so close their heat warmed her own.

  She blew out a slow breath then inhaled his fireborn scent. “What are you doing?”

  “I have no idea.” He shook his head, pulling her closer until her hands were flat against his chest. One hand slid up her side, knuckles catching on the material, until he curved it around her neck. Ever so slowly, he dragged the material covering her face down until he could see all of her.

  His eyes turned to molten gold. Burnished edges made them glow in the dim light of the sconces. Sigrid stared up at him and wondered why this hadn’t happened while she was here. Why he hadn’t pushed her for something more than the distant relationship they had fostered.

  “I missed you,” he murmured. He stroked the outline of her face, fingertips skating over her cheekbone, down to her jaw. “I didn’t know how much until I saw your face again.”

  “We can’t do this.”

  “We have to do this,” he c
orrected. “Otherwise, we’ll never know if all our dreams were true or not. All the restless nights we lay awake at night, thinking about a future that could never be.”

  “Were you doing that?” His exhale flowed between her lips, tasting of metal and perfumed lilies.

  “Of course, I was.” Nadir leaned closer until just a breath would have caused them to touch. “And so were you.”

  Gods save her, but she had been. She wondered what a future at his side would look like. What Bymere would look like if she had taken the throne as a sultana should have. If she had poured her life and devotion into this kingdom and changed it for the better.

  Would it have changed? And more importantly, would he have changed. She’d seen him become something so much more than the boy king. He had become a man worthy of the throne. One with thoughts and ideas that would improve the lives of his people.

  And then everything had shattered in an instant. Even a good sultan could still be a foolish one.

  “Sigrid.” He said her name like it was a caress.

  She didn’t know what came over her, but that was all she could take. She surged forward and pressed her lips against his even though she didn’t really know what to do.

  Kissing was as foreign to her as this world he lived in, but thankfully her husband seemed to know what to do. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, crushing her against him, cradling the back of her head with his palm.

  Nadir devoured her. There was no gentleness in this first kiss, as the world crashed down upon their shoulders and time raced forward. He branded himself on her skin so that she would never forget him, no matter where they ended up.

  She curled her hands into fists against his chest, alternating between pushing him away and trying to pull him closer. Sigrid’s mind whirled. She knew she shouldn’t be enjoying this in the slightest. He was her enemy now. It was the fate he had chosen, and she needed to remember that.

  But he tasted like sunshine and flames, and every fiber of her being wanted to savor the rare golden taste. He was the other side of her coin. The darkness to her light, the sun that burned away all her moonlight.

  Breathing hard, he pulled back enough to stare down into her eyes. “Sigrid—”

  “No,” she pressed her fingertips against his mouth. “Don’t say anything. Nadir you can still stop this. You can return with me, to our people. The Beastkin will accept you. They are kind and good people. They’ll understand why you did what you did.”

  “I can stop nothing. My people are here, my family name. My blood right is here, and I can still fix this.”

  “You’re still choosing the humans?”

  “I’m choosing Bymerians.” He shook his head. “I don’t expect you to understand this choice, Sigrid. But there is a chance here, and you must give me time. Do you really believe everyone in this kingdom wishes the Beastkin dead? That we are all evil? There is so much good here, so many people who would be welcome to change, they’re proving it already. I just need you to give me time. Let me shake loose the chains of humanity and become the sultan they’ve always desired. Not a person, but a god king.”

  Her heart broke a little further with each of his words. There was reason in them. He had been raised to be a sultan, and he was following in the footsteps of the men who had come before him.

  But she refused to believe him. “You’re a person to me,” she whispered.

  “Why? Because we share the same affliction?”

  “No. Because our souls call out for each other even in the hardest of times. You and I understand each other.” She took a step back, letting her arms fall to her sides. “You know it as well as I. Even now, when you choose to abandon your own people and live side by side with humans who would beat us, cage us, kill us. I understand why you’re doing it.”

  His expression was troubled, the crumpled look something that tore at the fiber of her soul. “Then explain it to me, Sigrid. Because even I don’t know why I’m doing it.”

  “A sultan is there for his people, you said it yourself. You’ve made yourself a sultan of sand and ruin. But likewise, I’ve made myself a sultana of beasts and monsters.”

  His fingers released the cotton of her shirt, and he stepped back as well. Sigrid wished that Bymerians didn’t wear their hearts on their sleeves in that moment. She saw the exact moment his heart broke.

  “Then be well, Sultana,” he replied, his voice choked. “I wish you the best in your reign.”

  “I hope we can someday see eye to eye again, husband.”

  “Perhaps, when the stars realign in the sky, you and I will come together again.”

  She hoped it was the truth. The taste of him lingered on her tongue, and she felt more alive in this moment than she had since leaving. Even saving her people hadn’t filled her lungs with air like this.

  The door to his quarters creaked open, and the little girl slipped through. Sigrid watched her careful movements, the way she tip-toed as she walked, how she carefully closed the door behind her like someone would hear even the slightest creak.

  It broke her heart to know the child had lived in such a way that she’d learned this was the way to stay safe. Children should be loud and boisterous. They shouldn’t feel fear, worry about making sound, and walk as though someone might catch them.

  The girl turned, A’dab she remembered, and held a small pack close to her thin chest. Nadir’s shirt, and it had to be his, billowed around her. She’d rolled the sleeves up so far, they were little more than bulky lumps that still fell around her wrists.

  The distrusting look on her face made Sigrid smile. In all this chaos of their lives, at least something good could come out of it. “Hello. I’ve heard all about you.”

  “Are you the golden lady?” she asked. Her voice was like that of a bird, light and airy as only a creature who had flown could make.

  “I suppose, if that’s what they’re calling me.”

  “But you don’t have the—” A’dab waved a hand over her face.

  “The mask? No. I only wear it around people whom I do not consider family.” She didn’t miss the look A’dab flung toward Nadir. “He is my husband, little bird. He may see my face just as you.”

  “Husband? You’re married to him?”

  “I am the Sultana of Bymere. How did you think I got the title?”

  A’dab lifted a shoulder and stepped closer to her. “The sultan said you were going to take me away. That you’d bring me somewhere safe.”

  “I intend to. Would you like to go on an adventure with me? It’s very far away from here, but you’ll live with many more people just like you. A kingdom of Beastkin. Men and women who can turn into animals at will, without anyone hunting us.”

  “It sounds like a dream,” she accused. “I don’t like being told dreams. I want to live stories, not listen to them.”

  Sigrid held back a smile, barely. “I’m not telling you a story or a dream. It’s a real place, and I’d very much like to bring you there. I think there are many people who would like a spunky little girl like you. I cannot replace your parents, or even bring them back, but I can give you a new family.”

  Nadir cleared his throat and asked, “How many?”

  “You know I can’t tell you that.” She shook her head and stood. “That’s too much information, even though I somehow still trust you.”

  “I just want to know. To prepare.”

  Her heart squeezed again. There would be so much death in the coming months, and they both didn’t know how to stop it. “A trade for information, perhaps?”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Who taught them how to shoot me down?”

  He blew out a breath, and she knew he was as affected as her. The pain in his expression shattered through the wall she was slowly building, and she knew she’d guessed right. He had helped design a weapon for dragons, or at least approved one. He’d taken part in the instrument of her death.

  Nadir crossed his arms, staring down at his feet. “
They call it the dragonslayer. I did not stop them.”

  She nodded, mirrored his posture, then frowned. “You created a weapon that could kill us both.”

  “I did.”

  He hadn’t just designing a weapon that could kill her. That she might have been proud of him for. But he had helped design something that could kill him.

  It was easy to forgive him for protecting his kingdom. It was not easy to forgive endangering himself.

  “Not your finest hour, Nadir,” she finally said, uncrossing her arms and holding her hands open at her sides. “I’ve already proven myself against your warriors. None will touch me on the battlefield.”

  “Except me,” he replied with a wry grin. “Although I hope it doesn’t come to that again.”

  She didn’t want to know what would happen if they fought again. He’d proven himself formidable, his dragon much larger than hers. And yet, the feral part of her desired for the chance to fight him again.

  Sigrid stooped and picked up the little girl. A’dab fit in her arms almost too perfectly. She was a pretty little thing, her dark skin a perfect combination with her own. They were a pair that should have been able to live on their own, in the wilds. Perhaps Sigrid would have adopted her as well. A’dab was the kind of child who could learn to be deadly.

  She brushed a strand of hair away from the little girl’s face. “What do you turn into, little bird?”

  “How do you know I’m a bird?”

  “I see the sky in your eyes. You’ve felt the glory of the wind racing underneath your wings. All creatures who can fly recognize each other. You know what I am, don’t you?”

  A’dab nodded. “You’re a dragon.”

  “And you are?” Sigrid lifted her brow in a silent request for the little girl to fill it in.

  “A dove.”

  “Ah, a symbol of peace. Fitting.” The little one was everything that the Beastkin should have been able to lift above their heads and prove their worth. A child, a beautiful little child who could run through the streets with laughter on her heels. Sigrid frowned and glanced over at Nadir. “A girl?”