The Empress's tent fell silent.
William stood before her throne, his hands empty, his eyes steady. The candlelight flickered across the iron and bone of her seat, casting long shadows that danced like living things. Behind him, Anna stood motionless, her blue eyes watching the guards who ringed the tent. Vesper lingered near the entrance, her white eyes scanning for threats.
"You are brave," the Empress said finally. "Or foolish. Perhaps both."
"Brave and foolish are often the same thing."
The Empress's lips curved into something that was almost a smile. "My father said that. Before he went mad."
"Your father was right about some things."
"He was right about the Council. About their cruelty. About their lies." She leaned forward, her dark eyes burning. "He was wrong about everything
