“Are you all right? What’s wrong?” she asked, kneeling beside Modina.

The empress looked up and threw her arms around Amilia’s neck as she continued to sob uncontrollably. Amilia held her, stroking her hair. She had no idea what was wrong, but needed to get the empress to her room. If word reached Saldur, or worse, if he wandered in—She tried not to think of it.

“It’s okay, it’s all right. I’ve got you. Try to calm down.”

“Am I alive?” Modina asked with pleading eyes.

For the briefest of moments, Amilia thought she might be joking, but there were two things wrong with that. First, there was the look in Modina’s eyes, and second, the empress never joked.

“Of course you are,” she reassured her. “Now come. Let’s get you to bed.”

Amilia helped her up. Modina stood like a newborn fawn, weak and unsure. As they left, excited whispering rose. I’ll have to deal with that right away, she thought.

She guided Modina upstairs. Gerald, the empress’s personal guard, gave them a concerned look as he opened the chamber door.

“Is she all right?” Gerald asked.

“She’s tired,” Amilia said, closing the door on him.

The empress sat on the edge of her bed, staring at nothing. This was not her familiar blank stare. Amilia could see her thinking hard about something.

“Were you sleepwalking? Did you have a nightmare?”

Modina thought a moment, then shook her head. “I remembered something.” Her voice was faint and airy. “It was something bad.”

“Was it about the battle?” This was the first time Amilia had brought up the subject. Details of Modina’s legendary combat with the beast that had destroyed Dahlgren were always vague or clouded by so much dogma and propaganda that it was impossible to tell truth from fiction. Like any imperial citizen, Amilia was curious. The stories claimed Modina had slain a powerful dragon with a broken sword. Just looking at the empress, she knew that could not be true, but Amilia was certain something terrible had happened.

“No,” Modina said softly. “It was afterward. I woke up in a hole, a terrible place. I think it was my grave. I don’t like remembering. It’s better for both of us if I don’t try.”

Amilia nodded. Since Modina had begun speaking, most of their conversations had centered on Amilia’s life in Tarin Vale. On the few occasions when she asked Modina about her own past, the empress’s expression darkened and the light in her eyes faded. She would not speak any more after that, sometimes for days. The skeletons in Modina’s closet were legion.