Her gaze sharpened, and I realized my mistake. I was her Captain of the Imperial Guard. I was a commoner. And I’d called the Emperor by her given name. “Ah – Eminence, I meant—”

She seized the front of my shirt in her fists and pressed her lips to mine.

I couldn’t breathe, my heart pounding in my ears. Fire raced along my veins. This wasn’t the slow blossoming of love between two lifelong friends culminating in a soft embrace. In the time after accepting Emahla’s death, I’d thought I would never find another woman I cared about. I’d thought I was done with that part of my life.

I shouldn’t.

And then she tangled her fingers in my hair and I found my staff dropping from my nerveless palm, found myself wrapping her in an embrace, wanting to feel her body against mine.

“Lin,” I whispered in her ear. Her name on my tongue tasted too sweet. I hadn’t realized how long I’d wanted to say it until it slipped from my lips, making itself into a real thing instead of just a thought. And now all I wanted to do was to speak her name; it hummed in my ears with each beat of my heart.

Mephi coughed.

We broke apart, though her hand lingered over the wound on my chest. “You’re hurt.”

I checked her over and saw blood on her sleeve, though I saw no wounds. “And you? You said you ran into trouble at the palace.”

“We need to go back. Right away.”

Wait. Kaphra! I cast my gaze about the dimly lit room. No bodies lay strewn across the floor. No Kaphra. No Philine.

And the sword, which he’d asked me to bring, and which had seared its way across my chest, was gone.

33

Lin

Hualin Or

I hadn’t killed Hualin Or’s governor. I’d merely incorrectly reassembled a construct. How willing would the people of Hualin Or be to believe that? They’d followed this woman, this facsimile, for years. Who would be the first to admit they’d made such a grievous error?

Either way, I had to go back to the palace. With Nephilanu and Riya against me, I needed Hualin Or.