I studied his face – wondering how he had so quickly become a confidant and if that had been by design. He couldn’t have known about Thrana, couldn’t have known that we’d share this common trait. But he hadn’t hesitated to use it, either. A shared secret bound us together in more ways than just Imperial Guard and Emperor. He was right: we did need to keep this to ourselves. Jovis might be able to get away with revealing his powers, but I knew people were wary of me. And if I revealed I could do what Jovis did, someone would make the connection to our companions, putting both of them at risk. “Yes,” I said slowly. “We tell no one, at least not until we know more.”

I shifted the small pillow at my back, trying to find a comfortable position. I’d abandoned the Emperor’s headdress after the first six candidates. We’d let Mephi and Thrana out in the courtyard to play in the rain, and if I had no cares in the world, I would be curled up with Thrana and Bing Tai in front of a fire with a hot bowl of soup. There were still more books in the library to read. So many more things to research.

As if he knew my thoughts, Jovis said, “I could tell the rest of the candidates to come back tomorrow.”

How could I set things right if I didn’t try twice as hard as my father ever had? I straightened and shook my head. “No. They’ve waited long enough. Send the next one in.”

He obliged.

A young woman walked into the questioning room. There was something sharp and deliberate in the way she placed her steps, as though avoiding broken pottery. Her cloak was still damp from the rain; she must have grown tired of waiting in the hall and had taken a breather outside. She smelled of wet earth. Jovis returned to his spot behind me, his clothes rustling.

“Eminence,” she said, “I am not related to any governors, but I answered all the screening questions correctly. I don’t have a vast education, but I can read a book, and I’ve read many of them.”

She settled into the chair across from me and I was reminded, for the thousandth time, of sitting across from the man who’d called me his father, yearning for acceptance and love. Trying desperately to answer his questions, to be who he’d wanted me to be. I’d never met his expectations. Now I was Emperor and he was dead.

The thought didn’t bring me the joy I’d hoped it would.