had been, then, with his handsome, chiseled face and his mad, pulsing eyes. I smile, realizing that we have switched places now.
I bend close to his ear, in the same way he had once done to me. “No,” I say. “I will keep you, until the day I choose not to. You have destroyed and harmed all that is dear to me. In return, I want you to know what that feels like. I will not kill you. I will keep you alive. I will torture you.” My voice drops to a whisper. “Until your soul is dead.”
Teren can only stare back at me. I cannot describe the expression in his eyes.
The strength of battle finally leaves me. I stand on the deck, letting the rain continue to soak me. All around us, Beldish warships burn low in the stormy waters. Magiano, Sergio, and Violetta look on in silence. Inquisitors stand still, waiting for my next move. The Daggers are defeated, and Teren is my captive.
Enzo inherited a throne. Giulietta relied on her royal blood. Queen Maeve rules Beldain because she was born to it.
But true rulers are not born. We are made.
A cruel queen does not mean an unsuccessful one. Under her guidance, Kenettra changed from a glittering gem into a clouded stone, and her empire became one to rule all others, a darkness that stretched from sun, to sea, to sky.
—The Empire of the Wolf, translation by Tarsa Mehani
Adelina Amouteru
The first time I met an Inquisitor, he dragged me out of the hay in a barn and arrested me for the death of my father. They threw me into their dungeons for three weeks, and then shackled me to an iron stake. They have hunted me for months, chased me between the borders of nations, murdered those I love.
How strange that they now see me and keep their swords sheathed. As I walk down the halls of the palace with Violetta beside me, they step aside and lower their eyes. I keep my head high, but I still stiffen at the sight of so many white cloaks. My mercenaries wander the halls, their blades drawn in loyalty to me. Behind us walk Magiano and Sergio. When I glance over my shoulder, I see Magiano staring out the windows toward the burning harbor, his gaze distant. Sergio stops to talk to one of the mercenaries. I tighten my jaw and remind myself that with them as my allies, I shouldn’t fear the Inquisition as much as I still do.
Their queen is dead. Their Lead Inquisitor is in chains, unconscious. Their palace is overrun, and¸ most of all, they are afraid of what I can do to them. I can sense the fear in their hearts. Word had spread of how Enzo lifted his hands and set fire to the entire Beldish navy. Even now, they whisper of the way I made Teren crumple in agony. The way my Roses hunted down a Dagger riding on the back of her balira, how a lightning strike had killed her.
I sense their fear, and use it to build my strength back up.
Thousands have gathered around the palace. As morning arrives in earnest, sunlight slicing through black clouds in thin patches, lighting up the rain, we make our way to the royal chambers. I need to address my people, and I need to look the part. I will walk out onto the balcony with my head held high, fulfilling the fantasy I’d had as a little girl in my father’s home.
You all live in a new era now. From this day forth, ill treatment of any malfetto shall be punishable by death. None shall live in fear, as long as loyalty is sworn to this crown. I will be your queen, and I will restore Kenettra to glory.
“Your Majesty,” Magiano says as we enter the room. When I turn to him, he gives me a quick bow. His eyes are still distant. “I’ll leave you to prepare, then. No need for a thief on the royal balcony.”
“No more need for you to be a thief,” I say.
Magiano smiles and, for a moment, the old flame returns to his eyes. He takes a step closer to me. It seems as if he wants to reach out for my hand, but then he decides not to, and lets his arm fall back to his side. It sends a stab of disappointment through me. “A stunning victory,” he murmurs.