Mage's Rebellion (The Imperial Series)

By LA Quill

Princess Calinda has always been a talented mage. As a child she astounded all her tutors. Even her formidable father, Emperor Damuk, acknowledged her talent. So much so that he trained her himself.

Now Calinda is eighteen years old and a woman in her own right. All she wants is to serve the Empire like her father and brother. Unfortunately for her, there's one problem. She's a woman.

Despite all her pleas, her parents will not allow her to serve in the Royal Guard. They expect her to marry and bear children, but young Callie has no intention of doing so. Desperate to avoid their plans for her, she sneaks out in the dark of the night, never expecting the great darkness she will soon be forced to confront. As the gathering Dark threatens to consume her, she must use all her skills to avoid disaster.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tear Drop Books
• Release date: Dec 5, 2013
• ISBN: 9781311940438

LA Quill

LA Quill was raised on the Canadian prairies. She has been fascinated with myth and fantasy since she was a small child. As she grew into adulthood, a fascination with the written word developed. She majored in English with a focus in creative writing when she attended university and is now pursuing her PhD. She also studies anthropology, religions, and politics, all of which contribute to her written work. Today, LA Quill resides in central Canada with her two sons. She is a full-time writer and is the author of the popular Imperial Series and the forthcoming Crystal's Chronicles. She also has several other projects in the works. If you're interested in discovering more about LA Quill and her work, connect with her through her blog: http://laquill.blogspot.com/

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Book 4 of the Imperial Series

By LA Quill

Copyright 2013 LA Quill

Published by Tear Drop Books

Smashwords Edition

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

NOVELS BY LA QUILL

THE IMPERIAL SERIES

ARIANNA`S TALE

DRAGON`S TEMPEST

THIEF’S HEARTACHE

MAGE’S REBELLION

SON’S BETRAYAL

THE KNIGHTS OF ST. ANDREWS

THE SEARCH FOR GRANDMASTER SVEND

SHORT STORY COLLECTIONS

RETURN AND OTHER STORIES

INITIATION AND OTHER STORIES

Prologue

The desert sands shifted in the gentle breeze. The sun bore down on the brilliant white of the palace. The sky glittered blue above the marble structure, its azure color reflected in the still ponds and bubbling fountains dotting the city. The sight was pure and warm and peaceful.

It was infuriating. As he gazed into his obsidian mirror he growled in frustration, his hatred directed toward both the current Emperor and the many who had passed before. He hated that place with all the passion he could muster. For too many centuries it had stood as a beacon, foiling his plans and depriving him of his best lieutenants. Turning away from the mirror, he began to pace the darkened chamber, remembering his many failures.

Three centuries ago he’d had the old Republican King in his thrall, had planned the downfall of the Empire through the ruler of its rival, but divine magick had been summoned to delay his plot. Thirty years ago he’d thought his plan would finally come to fruition, but the woman he’d tried to use as a weapon had been defeated by her own nephew. And ever since that time, his every move had been countered by either that same nephew or one controlled by that nephew. Frustration didn’t begin to describe it.

This time must be different. This time he must predict every possible outcome. Every single act must be planned and shielded from the prying eyes of his enemies. It was tempting to look far afield, to keep his actions as distant as possible in order to avoid detection, but he resisted. He’d tried that before, and both times the agents of the Empire, or the Emperor himself, had found him. This time he would act closer to home, closer to their home. That bastard Power Incarnate had interfered for the last time.

But his plan must be more than unpredictable. He must do things as he’d never done them before. Subtlety and subterfuge hadn’t yet worked, so he’d be more direct. If he had an army, he could just attack. But the Covenant disallowed an army of the Dark just as it did an army of the Light. And while he enjoyed skirting the Covenant, it could not actually be broken. Nothing truly imposed by the gods could be.

But there were ways. He might not be able to create an army himself, but he could enlist another to create an army in his name. An army of creatures wholly bound to his will, creatures who would not question, could not run. Twisted things that would consume the flesh and blood of his enemies as they flooded across the desert in search of a meal. Yes, he could create those things.

Damn Covenant! As much fun as it would be, he could not create the creatures and he could not unleash them. He’d have to leave that to another. But who? He shook himself. Time for that later. Right now he had to decide where. Feeling a thrill of excitement, he turned his gaze back to the depths of the darkened mirror.

The white glare of the palace appeared in the mirror once again. That wouldn’t do. He wanted to be close, but Crown City was too close. That damned Emperor would be sure to notice, and that didn’t suit his plans. He needed something more concealed.

His first thought was the mountains, so he exerted just the smallest bit of magick and panned west. The Mountains of Mylara were rife with hiding places, but they were dense and had traders passing through on their way to the Republic almost daily. No help there. The Southern Range was full of caves, but the damned dragons made their home there. The dragons or their dreaded Sky Lords would realize his agents were there in short order. After the fiasco with his Riders, they would not take kindly to future incursions. He needed to work in secret, not battle dragons.

The range to the east of the Empire was too far away to be effective. His creatures would never be able to cross that much desert and still be effective once they reached Crown City. But the north…that held promise. The Northern Range was sharp and rigid. It was also unpopulated. There were some small villages at its base, but nothing higher than the foothills. Something stirred in his memory, something about his own worshippers…

The mirror panned north and skimmed the mountains. Eventually the vision passed through rock and stone to reveal utter blackness. Yes, this was it. A shiver of magick passed from him into the mirror. It ignited and flew around the empty space, casting light into the shadows. The place was old and crumbling, which he didn’t like, but at least it was intact.

He focused and allowed magick to pour into the mirror. It darted over the stone of the darkened temple, polishing floors and walls until they sparkled. The dirt and grime disappeared in a flurry of magick, but any blood was left untouched. A grin split his face, exposing narrow white teeth. Perfect. He loved the dark, loved the blood, but hated the dirt. He might be of the Dark, but that didn’t mean he had to writhe in squalor. Now that the floors and walls were relatively clean, he focused in on the black corridors.

The temple hadn’t seen the light of day in six hundred years. Not since the days of the first Emperor had he been able to sustain a temple in the desert. Long ago it had been the seat of his worship, the very center of his power in this world, but his followers had been pushed out by the coming of the Imperials. He’d moved southeast, into the dark reaches beyond the Wastes, and in doing so he’d all but forgotten his former temple.

This was his chance to make use of it again, to bring it back to life. If he allowed an army to gather there, he could march them south toward Crown City with little delay. There was even an underground seaport leading directly to the ocean. He could take victims from the desert, or he could import them from other areas. With access to the sea, the possibilities were limitless. It was perfectly placed.

And perfectly equipped. Away from the heat and light of the desert above, the tables, straps, and instruments of torture were still pristine. They were splattered with blood, of course, but that was to be expected in a temple of the Dark. There were still bloodstains on the walls and around the drains built into the floors. He liked the blood. It reminded him of the many victims he’d once had within the walls of the deserted temple. Those were pleasant memories indeed.

But dwelling on the past wasn’t getting him closer to his goals. With a nod of his head, he turned away. He had the place. Now he needed someone to create his army. Wandering over to the solid rock wall nearby, he thought about what he needed in a servant. He—no, she—must be able to draw men to her without a struggle. Since these men would be the basis of his army, he needed her to have a hold over them that could not be broken by pain or fear. She must be able to control them even as they were gutted. That limited things a bit.

He stared at the rock, hands moving over its rough surface for several moments before the image truly came to him. When it did, he pressed his hands into the rough rock. It moved under his hands like clay, conforming to his will. He was tempted to start with the face, but most men didn’t care about the face. They looked first to the body, only later examining the facial features. Ah, the body…

A small waist. He paused. Smaller still, he decided, shaping the stone to match. Ample hips, gently rounded without being too large. Moving upward, he formed her breasts. Small…no, large. Perfect orbs as smooth as silk. Now the legs, long and slender with muscles in all the right places. Yes, she was perfect.

Time to construct the face. The face took little time as he shaped it to be pleasing to a man. Gently upturned nose, curved lips, and large eyes. The hair was long and fine, almost too fine. When he was through, the hair curled downward until it was past her waist. Enough hair for a man to lose himself in.

Stepping back, he admired his work. She was pretty enough and had a voluptuous body. True, she lacked some features such as a navel and nipples, but that didn’t matter. She only had to attract men, not bed them. It would be enough.

But he couldn’t send her out into the world looking like molded rock. She needed color, color natural enough to pass for human for at least a few moments. At the same time, her coloring had to be different enough to attract men instantly. Balance, he thought as he retrieved a basket of brilliant gemstones.

He would need some light. Though he loved the dark, it didn’t reveal colors very well. After lighting a torch, he peered into the basket, searching for the perfect stones. First the eyes, something unusual and startling. He had several large blue sapphires, but they were too common. He needed something with sparkle. His hand touched a tiny blue diamond and he grinned. A second diamond was soon located and he pressed them into her eyes. Lovely.

Her lips needed something redder than red. A flawless red garnet was perfect. Crushing it into a fine powder, he pressed it to her lips, watching as they became deep red instead of black. Her hair was next. Blond was preferred by desert men because it was so exotic, but he wasn’t sure he had anything blond enough. Everything was simply too yellow; something whiter, but still yellow, was needed. He dumped the basket on a nearby table and sorted through the various gemstones, searching for something that might work.

There was only a small sliver of yellow sapphire. He almost didn’t notice it, trapped under a slab of opal as it was. But he happened to move the opal, sending the bit of sapphire sliding across the stone table. It glinted yellow in the torchlight, but not as yellow as the other gems on the table. It would do. But was there enough of it?

There would have to be. Unless he was willing to wait until he could find more like it, he’d have to be satisfied with what he had. Slowly, carefully, he crushed the yellow sapphire between his palms. When the gem was no more than the finest powder, he ran his fingers over the chiseled hair, spreading the dust over the rocky locks. It wasn’t long before golden hair shone back at him.

Stepping back, he evaluated his work. The hair was perfect. The eyes were gleaming. The lips were redder than the brightest blood. But the skin was still the dull black of the rock. He’d have to fix that. Eyes once more on the pile of gems, he considered his options. The opal was nice, but nice wasn’t good enough. Diamonds were too abnormal even for the most adventurous of men. He had many pieces of snow white quartz, but they weren’t quite stunning enough. White sapphires were boring. So was every piece of white topaz he could find. His eyes moved across the pile as his hand shifted the stones about.

His hand touched a smooth stone and he pulled it forth. Of course. Moonstone. Not too rare and certainly not used for much other than cheap jewelry, but it was perfect for his purposes. It gleamed in the torchlight, almost transparent in its beauty. Any man would desire to touch such luminous skin, especially the desert men. Most of them knew only the darker skin of their fellows. Only the few who could afford foreign slaves had ever had the opportunity to touch such brilliant flesh. It was more than he could have hoped for, better than he might have dreamed. And he had several of them. Perfect.

Since crushing them would only dull their luster, he extended a little magick. When the gems glowed in his hands, he ran them over the stone, leaving behind trails of solid moonstone. It was as if he’d liquefied the gems and was now spreading them as he desired. In a way, he was. His magick was making the moonstones pliable enough to form a skin for his newborn slave.

When her skin was fully covered and the moonstones were gone, he stepped back once more, but not to admire his handiwork. He knew she was perfect. Instead of just staring at her, he would bring her to life. She would owe him her whole existence and would be entirely loyal. He would give her enough intelligence to accomplish her purpose and ensure her curiosity and sex drive were aroused, but she would have no independent thoughts. She couldn’t betray him if she wasn’t smart enough to do so.

Goal firmly in mind, he let his magick fly. The gemstones adorning her body began to glow. The reds, blues, yellows, and whites combined, throwing far too much light into his personal chambers. He squinted but didn’t lose focus. He had to feed the magick into her gently and without interruption or her might destroy her. Knowing this, he kept the stream of magick steady, determined not to make a single mistake.

Her arm moved first, just a little flexing of the fingertips and a small jerking of the elbow. Then her head turned slightly to the left. Her hair, previously confined to the rock, burst free and fluttered around her face. Her lips parted with a sigh and her feet flexed. A shudder went through her body and she fell forward, finally free of the stone wall.

Chuckling, he moved forward. She was on her belly, panting as she struggled to understand what had happened. He didn’t expect her to figure it out. He hadn’t granted her that much intelligence. She was lucky he’d granted her the ability to speak, though she likely didn’t realize she could do so yet.

He watched as she struggled to climb to her knees and chuckled again at her inept movements. It never occurred to him to aid her in any way. He simply watched her push herself into an awkward kneeling position. She kept her hands on the stone floor to keep from falling over, but she was otherwise steady.

She studied her hands and arms, obviously confused. Considering her rock-like state of only a moment ago, such confusion was expected, even anticipated. If she had immediately understood all that had just happened, he would have been concerned. It might have indicated she was too intelligent for his purposes. But she clearly wasn’t too intelligent for anything. She would have to be taught everything from how to walk to how to speak. And that suited him just fine.

The cold air moved over her newly-born flesh and she shivered before lifting her head. Her eyes met his and his mouth twisted into a cruel smile. Her glittering blue eyes widened as she cocked her head to one side much as a dog would do. He tapped his foot impatiently.

It took a long moment, but she eventually lowered her eyes.

Chapter One

The wind whipped through her midnight hair, blowing it out behind her like a dark nimbus. Her hands gripped the thick leather reins as she leaned forward and rocked her hips in time with the horse’s powerful movements. The sun kissed her face, warming her cheeks and bringing a smile to her face. A sense of bliss filled her as she gave the horse its head and they all but flew across the desert joined as one being.

Calinda glanced over her shoulder at her companion. He was keeping pace with her, which was unusual. Most people, no matter how much time they spent in the saddle, simply did not ride as well as she did. But this man wasn’t typical, so she should not be surprised that he could keep up when very few others could. He was one of the most skilled warriors the Empire had ever produced. Currently, he was second only to her father.

Thoughts of her father were like a black cloud settling around her, so Calinda turned her face back to the sun. Its warmth was more than physical. It filled her very being as they raced across the desert. Her horse, a beautiful black mare given to her by her parents, thundered over the sand, never putting a foot wrong. With Sesi moving between her thighs, Calinda had no need to watch the path ahead. She could just give herself up to the brightness of the day and the serenity of the desert.

Finally, after galloping for what felt like the better part of a day, Calinda drew to a halt. The other horse came up beside her and Calinda smiled saucily at its rider. She had a plan, and this man was a part of that plan. If only he would cooperate…

Don’t give me that look, Payton drawled, determined not to be taken in by Callie’s bright smile and dancing eyes. A ride. That’s it. That’s what you told your brother and that’s what we’re going to do.

Calinda dismounted and laughed. Why do you think I didn’t tell my father we were going for a ride? His look of confusion had her laughing harder. Because he’d have seen through the lie.

Get back on the horse, Your Highness. She was his best friend’s sister so he usually didn’t bother with the title, but he was trying not to strangle her. A little formality would help remind him that she was royalty. And Royal Guards did not strangle royalty. Usually.

I’m not getting on. You’re getting off. Her hand glowed a soft purple and she snapped a tiny bolt of energy through the air. Her magicks were powerful, but she also had more control than most mages her age. At eighteen, she could destroy a building or light a candle. It was all a matter of degrees.

She hadn’t hit Payton that hard, but he still went flying off his horse. Landing on his ass in the sand, Payton groaned. The sound made her smile as she skipped across the sand to his side. He didn’t stand, but he did rise up on his elbows to glare at her. Calinda flopped down on the ground beside him, trying not to laugh at his plight.

That wasn’t very nice, Payton complained. Then his eyes widened as Calinda began to unlace her yellow gown. Don’t do that!

Oh, relax. She continued to work the laces. It’s not like I’m naked underneath. The gown slid down to her hips and Calinda rolled onto her back, kicking her feet in the air to throw the silk gown across the sand.

Payton’s eyes widened, though he was not truly surprised. Clad in black leather breeches and a grey leather tunic, Calinda reclined on the sandy ground. Her riding boots matched the breeches and she pulled a pair of grey gloves out of the belt that cinched her waist. Once the gloves encased her slim hands, the young princess jumped to her feet and struck a casual pose.

How many blades are you carrying? There was a twinkle in her eyes as she looked down at him.

Crawling slowly to his feet, Payton just shook his head. Doesn’t matter. We’re not doing this. If he didn’t keep some control of this situation, it was going to spiral out of control.

We’ve done it before, she reminded him with a slight singsong to her voice. What makes today any different?

Payton threw his hands up in the air. It’s different because last time Tristan caught us. Your brother might have thought that it was a big joke, but he did promise to tell your father next time. And I, for one, do not want to have to deal with Emperor Damuk when he’s in protective father mode. Just the thought made him shiver.

Where is your sense of adventure? It’s not like I’m asking you to sleep with me. She stubbornly planted her feet in the sand and stared up at him, willing him to obey her wishes.

What happened to the sweet young girl we used to know? he retorted, more than a little appalled by her words. Ladies did not discuss such things. Ever.

To that question she had a ready answer. Squashed by my father.

That’s not fair. Your father is a good man. One of the few things he was proud of was his loyalty to the Emperor. He couldn’t let anyone besmirch the man, even if that anyone was his youngest daughter.

It’s fair enough. Realizing that Payton wouldn’t respond to demands, she changed her tactics. Please, Pay. How am I ever supposed to prove myself if you don’t help me learn? She put her hands on his chest and smiled sweetly up at him. Few men could resist that smile.

And Payton wasn’t one of them. Fine. He rolled his eyes as he drew the sword at his hip. He tossed it to her and noticed the ease with which she caught it. But only for a candlemark. Then we go back before we get caught. The sword across his back made a hissing sound as he pulled it free and twirled it in his right hand.

Calinda flexed her calves, stretched her shoulders, and made sure her grip on the sword was secure. Then she waited for him to come at her, anticipation rushing through her.

***

I don’t know. I think William can handle it. Tristan pushed his jet-black hair out of his eyes as he reined in his horse. This one was young and jumpy and not fully gentled yet. It took all his concentration to keep the steed under control.

Damuk glanced at his eldest son out of the corner of his eye. It’s far too much for a former thief to take on. Tristan might be Crown Prince, Commander in Chief of the Imperial army, and a father in his own right, but the young man was still naïve in many ways.

Since he was quite fond of Marella’s husband, Tristan might have defended his brother-in-law. But he saw his father’s concentration drift and immediately came alert. What?

The Emperor pierced his son with his icy blue gaze. Why is your sister outside the city?

He couldn’t outright lie to those eyes. She wanted to go for a ride. Payton took her. They…might be around here.

That wasn’t what you were going to say. Something was happening with Calinda and he was quite sure he wasn’t going to like it. For just a moment he considered using his magick to look into Tristan’s mind, but ultimately dismissed the idea. He was too moral a man to invade his son’s thoughts, but it was a near thing. Especially when it concerned his youngest daughter. His errant youngest daughter.

Tristan wanted to tell him. He didn’t exactly approve of what Calinda was doing, even if all she was doing was wandering outside the city without their father’s permission. He suspected there was much more to it, and he should immediately tell his father. But she was his sister and he’d promised he would say nothing unless he caught her a second time.

Finally he said only, I can’t tell you. But we could…wander in that direction.

Damuk raised an eyebrow. You want me to find her. It was a statement, not a question. But Tristan nodded, encouraging Damuk to guide his horse toward his youngest daughter’s aura. He shielded his own aura and that of his son so that Calinda would not sense their approach.

But Calinda was more than a mage. She had excellent hearing. So he held his steed to a fast walk in an effort to muffle the hoof beats. Phoenix moved like a ghost, hardly disturbing the sand as he walked. The roan was young, barely two years old, but he’d proven himself in battle more than once. It was unusual to see the Emperor mounted on a horse that wasn’t black, but Phoenix was singularly intelligent, loyal, and steadfast. Besides, the horse had been a gift from his wife. He’d have ridden the roan if the beast had been a ragged nag. He was only glad the beast had proven to be so much more. His wife had excellent taste.

Tristan came up beside him and Damuk held up a hand. His son slowed his pace and together they moved in silence. The sound of swords clashing echoed through the air and Damuk reached for his sword. But Tristan shook his head and Damuk eased the blade back into its sheath. His son might be naïve, but he knew his little sister. Possibly better than her own parents did.

They crested the sand dune a moment later and Damuk’s eyes widened. There was his youngest daughter, but she wasn’t going for a scenic ride through the desert. No, she was grasping a sword and sparring with Payton. More than that, she was dressed in leather and scrambling across the sand like a trainee. And she was not a trainee.

Anger darted through him at her blatant disobedience. Weeks ago, when she’d asked if she could join the guard, he’d clearly refused to entertain the idea. Women did not wield weapons, especially not women in his family, with the sole exception of his daughter-in-law. There had never been a woman in the guard, and his daughter would not be the first.

And yet here she was, scuttling around in the sand. He urged Phoenix forward, no longer caring if the pair heard him. And hear him they did, for they sprang apart as if they’d been burned. When Payton caught sight of both the Emperor and the Crown Prince, he stood immediately at attention but said nothing. He did, however, drop his sword in the sand.

Calinda also stood, but she was slower about it and she didn’t drop the sword she held. Instead, she stood glaring at her father, defiant and angry. But Damuk could tell that she was also uncertain and afraid. Good, he thought to himself, let her fear what I will do. He was angry enough to beat her, but this wasn’t the time or the place. He’d never struck one of his children in anger. It was his belief that if he was going to strike one of them, it would be only for discipline. And discipline and anger were never a good pair. No, discipline could wait. After he got her back to Crown City and had managed to control his burning rage.

But his anger was fresh and ready for a target. It found one in Payton. Tristan, he said over his shoulder, "Take your friend into custody." His voice was quiet and controlled, almost calm. But anyone who knew him would also know this was when he was at his most dangerous.

Tristan shifted uncomfortably in the saddle. On what charge? He and Payton had been friends for almost twenty years, since they were just six years old. They’d been through a lot together, nearly died together. Arresting him just didn’t seem right. Especially when he’d not really done anything to deserve it.

Treason. Lock him up. His gaze shifted to his daughter, still so defiant. And you will get on that horse and accompany me back to Crown City.

I will not! she snapped, clearly not willing to give in.

Damuk dismounted in one quick motion and advanced on her. He stopped when he saw her gown lying in the sand. It was the yellow silk riding habit that looked so stunning against her black hair and sun-kissed skin. Her mother had bought it on the other side of the mountains, deep in the Yarian Republic. And Calinda had just thrown it in the sand like a piece of trash. He picked it up and flung it toward her.

Put it on! Instead of waiting to see if she complied, he strode over to her horse. Sesi was high-strung and pulled away from him, but Damuk simply grabbed the reins and tied them to the pommel of Phoenix’s saddle. The roan would keep the mare in line. When he glanced over his shoulder, Calinda was clutching the gown to her chest. A single raised eyebrow had her scrambling to drop the sword she still clutched and pull the yellow silk over her head.

When she’d tied the laces, he grabbed her elbow and almost tossed her onto her horse. He considered having her ride pillion behind him, but he wasn’t entirely certain he wouldn’t throttle her if she was that close. Calinda opened her mouth to say something, but a sharp look silenced her. He wasn’t in the mood for her excuses.

Remounting Phoenix, Damuk shifted his gaze to Tristan. I’ll see you back in Crown City. After I’ve dealt with your sister. He didn’t so much as glance at Payton.

Tristan just nodded and watched as the pair rode off toward the capital. As they disappeared over the nearest sand dune, he urged his own horse closer to Payton. That was stupid, Pay.

She said she just wanted to go for a ride, he protested. How was I to know she’d pull this again?

You could have refused. She can’t be doing this. Tristan ran a frustrated hand through his hair, looking and sounding remarkably like his father.

Payton moved to pick up both swords. Why can’t she? Your wife isn’t exactly the prim and proper lady.

In that, Payton was certainly correct. Jewel, Tristan’s wife, wore breeches more often than not, had her hair cut short, and carried several small blades at all times. Still, Tristan shook his head. Jewel is Kin. She was born and bred to be…well, not a lady. Callie is a lady and should act that way.

All she wants to do is serve in the guard. Sheathing both swords, he gathered his own horse. You’d let Jewel serve if she asked.

I would not, Tristan said sharply. Women don’t serve in the guard. Doesn’t matter who they are. He firmly believed that. Women and men just…shouldn’t serve together. At all.

But she’s good, Trist, Payton insisted as he mounted his horse. She moves like…well, like your father. She could maybe be as good as he is with a little training. She could certainly be as good as you are.

It doesn’t matter. And now she’s going to pay for your serious lack of judgment. He set off toward Crown City, Payton slowly following behind him. After several long moments of silence, Tristan glanced over his shoulder. She’s really that good?

Payton just nodded, thoughts elsewhere. Are you going to arrest me?

Tristan snorted. Of course not. But do yourself a favor and stay out of my father’s line of sight for a few days. Give him time to cool down.

Sounds like a plan. Payton had already decided that it was better if he and Emperor Damuk didn’t cross paths for a while.

Silence reigned until Tristan quipped, It was still stupid.

Payton had to agree.

Chapter Two

The sun streamed through the thin