“And you … want me to produce that heir?” Safi could not believe she was having this conversation. While she’d known Henrick had no desire to produce children with her, she hadn’t guessed he’d want her to have them with Leopold.

It was strange. It was uncomfortable.

Henrick opened his hands. They trembled in time to the carriage’s bumps and sways. “When I am gone, you will marry Leopold. You love each other, do you not? We are not all so lucky, you know, so why wait to produce his heir?”

Gooseflesh pricked down Safi’s arms. Why, indeed? When Henrick had first claimed her as his betrothed at the Truce Summit ball in Veñaza City, Safi had assumed it was because—like everyone else in the Witchlands—he wanted her Truthwitchery. Even when his soldiers had hunted her, even when his Hell-Bards had eventually caught up to her, Safi had believed Henrick wanted her magic.

Then he had erased her magic two weeks ago, making it clear that her Truthwitchery mattered none.

And now he was making it clear that he wanted her to remain on the throne even after he was gone. He wanted her as Leopold’s wife and the mother of imperial heirs.

“Why,” she asked softly, “did you marry me, my Emperor?”

Henrick scratched again at his jaw. Outside, the city turned to beige-and-pink stone. They had crossed into the wealthier merchants’ district. It would not be long before the carriage reached the imperial palace.

“If,” Safi pressed, “you want me to make heirs with Leopold, then I need to understand why. If you expect me to marry him after you are gone, then I need to understand why.”

Still, Henrick said nothing—and now Safi could see the first towers of the palace spiring above the city. They would arrive in minutes.

“My magic marked me the day I was born,” she rushed on. “I have spent my whole life running, and for what? In the end, I was caught and I was used. Yet you took me with no intention of claiming my magic. I want to know why. Why me.”

Henrick offered no external reaction, but he was clearly listening. So Safi powered on with her impulsive plea. “I have learned in the last few days that there is freedom in a life without magic—and in freedom, my Emperor, there is power.”

“It is power you seek then?”

“I am certainly tired of being powerless.” She lifted her chin; it was not a lie. “You married me in chains, but if you want me to rule beside you—and continue to rule with Leopold after you are gone—then I need to know why. If it is not my magic you desire, then what is it?”