CHAPTER FORTY-ONE Sev

Piera Sil’Danne was caught three days after the Battle of Irrad trying to cross the border into Old Zefed with her son. It was the first real test of our temporary governing body, for we debated fiercely over what to do with her and the crown prince.

It took days of deliberations, but we finally came to a unanimous ruling. The prince was blameless and young enough to be brought up in a world that was different from the one into which he had been born. He would be adopted into a family that would raise him as their own. But Piera had stood by the tyrant, and for that she was sentenced to die.

She faced the sword on the last day of summer, and it took everything I had to see it through. Vicious though she was, I could not look at her without seeing the ghosts of my brother and the girl she used to be. There were only a few people who could bear witness to my childhood—when Piera died, there was one fewer.

I thought of Faris, too, that day. She had fled the palace the day I killed the emperor, and I wondered often what had become of her. If I’d had the chance, I would have pardoned her. But perhaps she thought her crimes were so great, the council would never accept such a ruling. And she would likely have been right.

Sometimes I woke up, my heart pounding, and thought I was still dreaming—that Rafael was standing over me, sword in hand, ready to strike. It was nights like those that I was especially grateful to have Maren—exceptional, brave, dauntless Maren—to listen without judgment and to offer her love.

She was adamant that I could not offer her a troth ring while I sat at the head of the ruling council of Zefed—and perhaps not even after that.

I smiled and acquiesced, and did not mention the ring I had already made. It would keep.

Every day the emperor’s palace belonged less to him and more to the people of Zefed, and every day it was easier to walk those halls.

Sometimes I went to sit in the garden that Idai had taken me to. We had started a tentative correspondence, and I liked taking their letters through the secret passageway to read.

And sometimes I thought about my parents, and my brother, and considered the question of whether they would have been happy with what I was doing. If they would have been proud of who I had become.

And for the first time in my life, I knew the answer would be yes.