“You are most welcome, little sister. I trust my kindness will be rewarded in the coming years. Faithful Anointed Ones are key to reaffirming the faith of the populace at the start of a new age.” He stepped away to give her some space, and he spoke so calmly, she doubted his heartbeat had even increased while he held her life in his hands. Her own, meanwhile, thumped a frantic drumbeat in her chest. “Answer me, who is this Vagrant that gives the people of Thanet undeserved hope?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “A man who appeared only months ago, hooded and bearing a skull mask. I presume him the leader of the resistance, or at least their champion.”

Her older brother’s reaction surprised her, for instead of seeming frustrated or angered, the description intrigued him. He rubbed his chin as he pondered.

“A man in a skull mask,” he said. “And now the people pin their hope to him, do they? Whisper his name, hide his symbols, that sort of thing? I have seen this before. He seeks to be a new god for a broken populace.”

Sinshei held back a shudder as she straightened her hair as best she could. The violence of her brother’s motion had made a mess of her careful braids, and there was little she could do on her own.

“He is no god,” she said.

Galvanis walked past her toward the city. He reached over his shoulder for his sword, holding on to its leather-wrapped hilt as he gazed at the rising smoke.

“Just like Miquo,” he said softly. “You were too young then to pay attention to such matters, but I remember. I remember the pain he caused. I remember the faith he built with his every kill. Troublesome, but only in that we have such limited time to deal with his interference.”

Her older brother turned to her, and though he wore no mask himself, his face was as white as bone and his smile without joy or kindness. Instinct would have her wither beneath it, but she stood, defying the crawling fear. All her plans, her slow seduction of Gordian, the Seeds, Soma killing Magus; it had all been done so she might prepare Thanet for Galvanis’s arrival. Not to greet him. To murder him. Sinshei pulled back her shoulders and swore to remain strong. She had outlasted Magus and Gordian. Here on this wretched island, with Soma at her side, she would outlast even her father’s chosen heir.

In the three-thousand-year history of the Everlorn Empire, no woman had ever been named Heir-Incarnate. No matter what lies she must tell, what blood she must shed, or what family must perish, she vowed to be the first.

“Shall we do here as we did in Miquo?” she asked Galvanis.

That cold smile of his grew.