board—a single black pawn. Beside it sat a stiletto, crafted of gravebone. Jonnen saw a crow on the hilt with red amber eyes. It seemed a little brother to the longblade Mia carried.
“Father,” the boy said.
“Son,” his father replied, waving to the divan opposite.
The boy trudged across the study floor, the map of the entire Itreyan region laid out at his feet. Itreya and Liis, Vaan and Ashkah—all of them now under his father’s control. No longer a Republic. A kingdom in all but name.
Jonnen sat down before its ruler.
“Where is Spiderkiller?” he asked, looking about. “The sorcerii?”
His father waved the question off, as if brushing away an insect.
“I had a dream last nevernight,” he said.
The boy blinked. Not quite what he was expecting.
“… What did you dream of, Father?”
“My mother,” his father replied.
“O,” the boy said, not knowing how else to respond.
“She was dressed in black,” his father continued, still staring at the chess piece. “As she never dressed in life. Long gloves, all the way to her elbows. And she spoke to me, Lucius. Her voice was faint. As if from very far away.”
“What did she say?”
“She said I should speak with you.”
“About what?” Jonnen replied.
“Mia Corvere.”
Ah.
This he expected.
“You mean my sister,” the boy heard himself say.
His father finally glanced up at that, and Jonnen heard a faint hiss as Whisper unfurled from the imperator’s shadow. The serpent peered at Jonnen with his not-eyes, licking the air with his not-tongue. He seemed more solid than he’d once been: a deeper black, now dark enough for two.
Jonnen could still hear Eclipse whimpering as—
“She told you, then,” his father said.
“Yes,” Jonnen replied, his throat feeling tight and dry.
His father leaned forward, his gaze burning. “What, exactly, did she say?”
The boy swallowed hard. He met his father’s eyes, but looked away just as swiftly. “Mia said she was your daughter. Sired on Alinne Corvere.”
Long silence descended on the study. Jonnen’s palms were damp with sweat.
“And what else?” his father finally said.
“She said…”
The boy’s voice faltered. He shook his head.
“Whisper,” his father said.
“… Be not afraid, little one…”
The shadowviper snaked forward, melting into Jonnen’s shadow. The boy sighed as the daemon swallowed his fear, drinking down mouthful after mouthful. Leaving him bold. Cold as steel. The boy met his father’s gaze again, cool and dark and hard. But this time, he didn’t look away.
“She said I was also sired on the Dona Corvere,” Jonnen said, his voice firm. “She told me that my mother is not my mother.”
His father leaned back on the divan, regarding Jonnen with black, glittering eyes.
“Is it true?” the boy asked.
“It is true,” his father replied.
Jonnen felt his stomach turn. His chest ache. He’d known it. Deep down inside, he knew Mia wouldn’t have told him a lie like that. But to hear it confirmed …
Jonnen’s eyes burned with tears. He blinked them back, wretched and ashamed.
“She is my sister.”
“I would have told you,” his father said. “When you were older. I had no wish to deceive you, my son. But some truths must be earned in time. And some truths are simply matters of perspective. Though she may not have given birth to you, Liviana loves you as a son. Do not doubt it for a moment, Lucius.”
“That is not the name my mother gave me.”
His father’s voice turned to iron. “It is the name I gave you.”
The boy bowed his head. And slowly, he nodded.
“Yes, Father.”
The imperator of all Itreya picked up the black pawn from the chessboard, though in truth, Jonnen’s eyes lingered on the stiletto. His father twisted the piece in his fingers, this way and that, letting the fading sunslight glint on the polished ebony. Lips pursed. Silence lingering.
“What else did she tell you?” he finally asked. “Your dear sister?”
“Many things,” the boy mumbled.
“Did she happen to speak of what she planned to do if her assault on the Mountain was successful?”
Jonnen shrugged. “Not really. But I can guess.”
“Guess, then.”
“She’ll try to kill you again.”
“And that is all she seeks? My death?”
“She really does not like you, Father.”
His father smiled and shook his head. “What of her companions, then? The Vaanian girl? The arena slaves? The dead one, returned from the grave? What do you know of them? What do they want? Why do they follow her?”
Jonnen shrugged. “Ashlinn seems to love her. I think she follows her heart.”
“And the gladiatii?”
“Mia rescued them from bondage. They follow her out of love and loyalty.”