Anzi didn’t know how to describe the terrible swell of emotion that rose up inside her, if she could even call it something so mundane as emotion. Relief, anger, frustration, helplessness in the face of everything that had happened, all of it coalesced into a crippling weight that filled her up like molten metal poured into a cast. And underneath it all, she could feel the haunting shadows of pain in her belly and chest and knew without question they belonged to Kai. The bond he’d said they shared, the bond she hadn’t had time for, the bond she couldn’t afford to accept because it only made everything so much harder than it was already—it was here now. Looming larger than life and taking up the whole of her vision, her senses, planting itself in her path and forcing her to acknowledge it. So what choice did she have? What could she say anymore? Do? “You almost died,” she said dumbly. “You might still.” “No.” His voi

They didn’t have a moment alone, ever. Anzi couldn’t so much as look at Kai without Alain and his fellow damned spies pinning her with the most intent of stares. And it was deliberate. Maybe Tet trusted her more now than before, but he must have told them to make it clear she was every bit the pressed prisoner she’d always been. Kai knew it too, although his restlessness appeared to come from a different direction than mere frustration at being watched. “They reek,” he snarled on the morning of the festival as she turned him around and wrapped fresh linen bandages around his waist. “How long is he going to keep them around you?” “They’re watching you, too. And they smell fine. Stop saying they smell like—sex, you don’t just go around saying that in front of people. It’s crass. This isn’t the lower districts, we use our nicer words here.” That was enough to make him peel his fierce glare away from t

Before Anzi could demand an explanation, the clanking of metal from behind made both of them turn. Two soldiers outfitted in the signature armor of the Emperor’s personal guard appeared at the top of the winding steps with the monarch right behind them. He was wearing something different than usual, robes of soft gold and white thread rather than Imperial red. It made him look even more unearthly, if that was even possible, or maybe it was how he stood more than half a meter taller than his guards as he grinned and plumped his garment around himself. “Greetings!” he exclaimed. “Things are going fantastic. We’re doing wonderfully, everyone.” He clapped his hands once, and his two guards as well as the harem men standing nearby bowed and backed away out of sight behind the crimson curtains. “Great, we don’t need to stuff this place with so many bodies. Ah, Oza, come out here.” Anzi’s breath caught in her chest like an ugly clot of tangl

Anzi hit the ground so hard it made her teeth rattle, but she managed to land on her feet and tuck into a roll to protect her knees from the impact. In truth, it was easier than it should have been—just a half-year ago, she would never have considered leaping down from such a towering height, but she was desperate and determined as she shoved through the crowd to find that flash of pink she had seen a moment ago. If she had wasted even a single second longer for fear of her own safety, she would surely lose Letti. But desperate or no, the aching pain that throbbed in her calf and foot was a bitch. She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, cursing Bisset for crippling her, but there was no time to be bitter about it for long. There—! She wrenched Letti back by the shoulder and found bright blue eyes staring back at her, wide and panicked. They were filled with no small amount of fear and hostility, but as soon as she recognized Anz

The falling stones should have crushed her. She had never visited the dungeons often enough to know exactly how far underground this lower level was, but the weight of the upper cells alone should have flattened her. And Oza, too, no matter how much she wanted to believe otherwise. Sheer determination and panic wouldn’t have been enough for her to save him. Or shouldn’t have been. But as she groaned under the weight of the solid slabs threatening to drive her into the ground and take Oza as well, she realized dimly that she wasn’t dead. That wasn’t possible, and yet here she was, breathing, however laborious and painful each rattling, shallow inhale. Her arms and legs trembled madly, struggling to support the weight of every piece of debris fallen on top of her so she didn’t suffocate Oza underneath, and she felt no give as she shifted left and right—but she was alive. She was conscious. And although they were buried in darkness under the rubble and she