A Sky Beyond the Storm (An Ember in the Ashes #4) - Sabaa Tahir Page 0,124

to meet you, Shrike,” he says, and I follow him toward the Black Guard barracks, which we’ve moved to the palace grounds. “Her name is Mariana Farrar,” Dex says. “She was recommended by Coralia Farrar. They’re cousins.”

“So she’s related to the Emperor too,” I say. “How has he been with her?”

“Much better than the last wet nurse,” Dex says. “I asked Silvius to observe too, since he’s worked with mothers and children. He had no concerns.”

“Family?”

“Husband’s a tanner. They escaped Antium with us after the siege. They’re well-known. Well-liked. They have a sixteen-month-old son. He’ll be weaned soon.”

When I enter Dex’s quarters, Mariana stands. Her Farrar blood is instantly visible—she has Marcus and Zacharias’s yellow eyes. A young man holding a child stands beside her—her husband, I presume. I can tell they want to curtsy or bow. But my armor is throwing them off.

“I am the Blood Shrike and Regent of the Emperor.” My title feels strange on my tongue, and I call on the Mask in me that I might deliver the words with no inflection. “My duty is to protect the Empire and the Emperor at all costs. You are a necessary part of a machine designed to protect him. If you harm the Emperor, what do you think I will do?”

Mariana lifts her chin, but her voice is a whisper, and she has to force herself to meet my gaze. “Kill me. As you should.”

I nod to the child and the man who holds him. “I will kill your boy, there, first. I will kill your husband. I will find everyone you love or have ever loved and I will kill them too. I will insist you watch before I throw you in prison forever, that you might live with the horror of your actions. Do you understand?”

Mariana nods frantically but I hold her gaze. “Tell me in your own words.”

“I—I understand.”

Dex and I escort her and her family out, and once they are down the hallway, I turn to him. “Four guards when she nurses, not two.” I say. “Her husband and son remain in the palace and under watch. If she so much as looks at the Emperor wrong, you let me know.”

I make for Zacharias’s room, which now connects to mine on the second level of the palace. It faces the palace garden, though he cannot see it. His window is boarded up, and despite a number of colorful lamps hanging from the ceiling, it feels less like a nursery and more like a prison cell. Likely because of Silvio Rallius and Deci Veturius, each hulking in a corner. Would that I had stationed them in Zacharias’s room before this.

In addition to the Masks, Coralia sits in a rocking chair in deepest black, her eyes puffy as she watches Tas and Zacharias playing. She rises when I enter, but I wave her back to her seat.

Tas is on the floor with my nephew, making a small wooden horse dance along his arm. I watch for a moment before the boy notices me. He stands, but I give him space and bid him sit. I know his history. Harper told me of him and Bee and the other children of Kauf.

“Shrike,” he says after a few moments, and I can tell he has worked himself up to this. “I—I owe you an apology. If I hadn’t left Zakky that night, if I’d stayed with him—”

I go to Tas and kneel down. In a corner, Coralia sniffs quietly, attempting to muffle her sobs.

“Then you’d be dead too,” I say. “Don’t you take the blame, Tas. That belongs to me, and me alone. I do have a request for you, though.”

I’ve been considering this for days—since before Livia was assassinated.

“The Emperor needs a companion. Not a regent like me, or guards like Rallius.” I nod to the big man, who observes Tas soberly. “But a friend. A brother. Someone to laugh with him and play with him and read to him, but who will also guide him and keep him safe. Someone he trusts. Someone who understands him. But that person, Tas, must be trained in battle and combat. He must be educated. Will you undertake this task?”

Tas shifts uncomfortably. “I—I cannot read, Blood Shrike.”

“You’re a smart lad—you’ll pick it up quick. If you want it, of course—” I realize suddenly that the child might be afraid to say no. “Think on it,” I tell him. “When we see Laia again, maybe you can ask her. She’s