Dawn of Cobalt Shadows (Burning Empire Book 2)

by Emma Hamm

  “There are hidden routes?”

  “It’s a palace. Or did you think I didn’t notice there were crevices in Greenmire Castle as well?” He quirked a brow. “Every noble home has holes in the walls and passages where others can snoop if they wish.”

  “Hopefully not in the concubines’ rooms, or I’ll consider you more a peeping tom than a husband.”

  He shrugged. “I can’t say there aren’t. I suspect they’re more often used by serving boys than anyone else these days.”

  “These days?” Sigrid reached out and placed her hand in his.

  “My brother and I might have used them when we were younger.” He drew her closer, eyes shifting into the dragon. “Can you blame us?”

  “For sneaking into the women’s quarters so you could watch them undress? Yes. I can blame you for that.”

  He chuckled, tucked her underneath his arm, and pressed a kiss to her head. “I’ll give you that. We were perhaps a little too foolish for our own good.”

  As they strode toward the palace, she slipped an arm around his waist. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you speak about him without your voice cracking.”

  “I suppose it was,” he replied. “Strange how I think of him now with fondness rather than a sense of guilt.”

  Sigrid didn’t find it strange at all. She knew how death could linger in the back of someone’s mind until eventually that guilt dulled into a sense of fond memory. She’d seen it happen time and time again with so many of her friends.

  Her only wish was that she could figure out how to do that herself. All the deaths here and around the empire weighed heavily on her shoulders. Perhaps someday she could wake up without having to worry. Perhaps someday she wouldn’t let the opinion of others affect her so.

  They strode up the crimson steps into the palace halls. Sigrid had forgotten how golden this place was. Every corridor was lined with metallic hues. Swaths of red fabric hung from the ceiling and pooled on the ground, starting so high up it would have taken three men on each other’s shoulders to even reach the top.

  This place was made for someone who shared divine blood. In her furs and strange outfit, she felt decidedly out of place.

  Yet, it was her arm around their sultan. It was she who was married to the man who ruled these lands, not some creature who was covered in silken fabric and knew how to simper at the newest nobles.

  He’d found something in her that called out to him. The wildness in her heart that made his sing. That was worth far more than the acknowledgement of the other people here.

  They’d almost made it to his private chambers before a servant backed out of a room. Her arms were laden with laundry that dropped to the floor the moment she saw Sigrid.

  The maid’s eyes widened in fear and then horror. How could she recognize Sigrid when she wasn’t wearing her mask? Was it the simple knowledge that a pale woman, clearly from Wildewyn, was here?

  Nadir stiffened, opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by the maid who finally managed to gasp.

  “Sultana,” the maid croaked. “You’re alive.”

  Sigrid slipped her hand out of Nadir’s and stepped forward carefully. “I am.”

  “We all thought… well, the great battle in the sky with the sultan, we didn’t think it was possible you had survived.”

  She didn’t know how to process these words. The maid’s fear scented the air with blood and violence.

  How could she reassure this woman? How could she when she was the one who had destroyed their city?

  Sigrid bowed her head. “The battle did not leave any lasting scars. I appreciate your worry, however, after everything that happened.”

  “War is war, Sultana. We all do bad things in its grip.” The maid gulped. “Have done bad things. We don’t blame you for that, you know.”

  “I suspect many do.”

  “You were kind to us while you were here. Many of us have family who…” The maid’s eyes flicked to Nadir then back. “Family who are like the both of you. It’s a start, some kind of acceptance and understanding that the Beastkin aren’t dangerous. They shouldn’t be killed. And they can protect us or harm us if we discard them.”

  Sigrid’s tongue stilled and her heart stuttered. “I don’t know how to thank you for your kindness.”

  “Please don’t.” The other woman bent to pick up the laundry, filled her arms, and then smiled. “Just keep changing the world, Sultana. It’ll thank you for it eventually.”

  As the woman walked away, Sigrid looked over her shoulder at Nadir and wondered how they were going to do just that.

  28

  Nadir

  “They remember you as a masked woman. Seeing you without one will be startling for them.” He hated even suggesting that she cover her face. Nadir had grown to enjoy watching the emotions play over her features. She had no idea he could read her like an open book when he could see her lovely face.

  A delicate chain headpiece dangled from his fingers. He’d seen some of his own people wear something similar. It wasn’t a solid piece of metal like she was used to, but individual strands of gold with diamonds inset in each chain link. People would be able to see her face, but only slightly in comparison to what they were used to.

  “Easing them into the change,” she said with a smile. “I understand it. I did tell them all if they saw my face, I would kill them.”

  “Better to not have them worrying about that on top of everything else,” he replied dryly.

  Not that they would worry. The maid had proven he was correct. His people were more tolerant of the Beastkin, especially when the army wasn’t on the premises.

  Sigrid remained still and allowed him to weave the gold braid into her hair so it would stay secure. He didn’t tell her that nerves twisted his stomach into knots. That he wasn’t all so certain his people would accept her as readily as the maid.

  Something else burned in his gut. A deep rage that they would ever try to hurt her. That they would again try to start a war where he couldn’t be at her side, where he couldn’t protect her because of these humans’ chains that bound him so thoroughly he didn’t know what to do with himself.

  This was new. He hadn’t ever been possessive over another person. Nor did this make sense. She’d only returned for a few moments, just a couple days at his side. And he wanted to tear apart the world for her? That wasn’t like him.

  The fire inside him burned hotter than ever before. It was as if the dragon didn’t know what to do with itself. It had melted the bars of the cage Nadir had placed around it, and now there wasn’t anything to stop it from raging against the sky.

  Afraid of what it could do, the dragon didn’t know how to proceed. It knew Sigrid was something important to them both. That she had to be protected at all costs, because he was calm at her side. She made him think like a man. Something like that was precious and rare as the most beautiful of rubies pulled from the mines deep below his palace.

  She looked up at him through the waving strands of gold and diamonds, then smiled. “How does it look?”

  He stared down at her and lost all the air in his lungs. He wanted to shout that she looked incandescent. That the stars in the sky couldn’t rival her beauty for they would never shine bright enough to overpower her.

  But he couldn’t. Nadir wasn’t a man who knew how to speak poetry. He’d been raised to be a general. Now his brother, Hakim, he could have wooed her the right way. He wouldn’t have been the spoiled child in her eyes, but the man who had sonnets dripping from his tongue.

  Nadir cleared his throat and took a step back. He tucked his shaking hands behind him and nodded. “Good. It suits you.”

  She gave him a strange look. Perhaps she saw there was something more in his gaze. Something he couldn’t control. Were his eyes shifted? The colors in the room had skewed a bit, but he could only focus on the gold covering her face. That hadn’t changed at all. In fact, the gold looked… so…

  Something clattered onto the balcon
y outside his room. Angry voices drifted through the curtains, pitched low so no one would hear them but his ears picked up on much more than the average person.

  “You could have been more gentle!”

  “It’s not like I was trying to hit your head.”

  “I was right behind you. How did you not know I was right there?”

  He recognized both of those voices, although he hadn’t thought to see them quite so soon. He glanced down at Sigrid to see she’d recognized them as well. She rolled her eyes and gestured with an arm for him to go get them.

  The smile on Sigrid’s face hadn’t shifted. “It’s your palace.”

  “They’re your friends.”

  “Only two of them. I believe there’s also an assassin with them who hasn’t spoken yet.”

  He listened intently, but couldn’t pick up on the sound of anyone else. “How do you know she’s out there with them?”

  Before Sigrid could respond, Tahira pushed the red curtain aside. “Because she could see me. Really, how did you not have more assassination attempts? Your guards are foolishly simple.”

  Nadir gritted his teeth. “Need I remind you they don’t know their sultan is here?”

  “They don’t yet?” Tahira lifted a brow. “Then I’ll say it again. Your army is lacking in any kind of training, and I’m shocked you’re still alive.”

  Sigrid stepped forward before he could respond with the growl bubbling in his throat. He wanted to change in front of the assassin once more. His lungs still ached from where she’d tried to drown him, and there were plenty of unsaid words between them.

  Just because the death of his mother had stilled those words, didn’t mean he wasn’t going to say them. Tahira had a lot to own up to, and he would ensure she understood he was the dragon. He could pick her bones from between his teeth if he wanted to.

  His wife ushered her two, strange friends into the room then turned toward Tahira. “One of the Qatal, I take it?”

  Tahira inclined her head. “I see you’ve heard of us even in Wildewyn.”

  “No,” Sigrid replied, then pointed at Nadir. “He told me everything. The Earthen folk have never heard of your kind, nor are we intimidated by your people in the slightest. I do appreciate that you’re… confident in your abilities.”

  Leave it to his feral wife to bring even a Qatal to her knees. Nadir hid his laugh behind a cough, turning away from the three women so they wouldn’t see the grin spreading across his face.

  He’d missed her banter so much more than he’d thought. The women here battled with words as well, but they were hidden behind veiled threats and wishes of well health. Sigrid didn’t hold back at all. Instead, she just destroyed them.

  His woman didn’t go to battle unless she knew she’d win.

  Turning back toward the women, he realized they were staring at each other with a little too much aggression for his comfort. He cleared his throat, hoping he wouldn’t have to step between them. The last thing he wanted was to get wounded while trying to stop a famed warrior and a dragon from murdering each other.

  On second thought… the blast of heat that flowed through his veins suggested his dragon would be very interested in breaking up such a fight.

  Tahira glanced at him. “Where is this army of yours?”

  “I assume they’re still in Wildewyn. I haven't revealed myself to anyone just yet.”

  Camilla stepped forward, her dark skin glistening in the sunlight. He should really tell her that she’d always looked better here in Bymere. She seemed happier here as well, where the sun could stroke her skin and her eyes could stare across the vastness of the sand dunes. “They’ve returned,” she said, snapping him out of his thoughts. “On the way here, we had to go around them.”

  “They’ve returned?” He shook his head. “Then why hasn’t the sultan returned to his private quarters?”

  “You mean the false sultan?” Tahira asked.

  Gods, he couldn’t keep this straight. So many people were in the room talking over him and he couldn’t pay attention when his mind was screaming that they should have told him.

  But they didn’t know he was here. They all thought he was with them, but that was the sultan who had sent them a war that would end them all. He’d always hoped his people would follow him so blindly to their deaths, and yet, they had.

  Shaking his head, trying to clear the thoughts that thundered in his mind, he stepped back. “If they’ve returned, then why haven’t they come back to the Red Palace?”

  “I suggest we find out.” The voice was the cool touch of chilled water on his heated skin. The rush of a waterfall that crashed heavy against his thoughts and drowned out all the myriad of screams. Sigrid stepped closer to him and placed a hand against his shoulder. “We can go and ask them ourselves, Sultan. Perhaps it’s time to end this ruse, and let them know what you’ve found.”

  He hadn’t found anything. He’d only realized there was more dangers about himself that he couldn’t have dreamt of.

  There were wrinkles on her forehead, he realized. Worry that had marred her face permanently, although they were more visible right now because she was staring at him with concern on her face. When was the last time someone had worried about him? Not the country, not the way he was running the country, but Nadir. The man who had a kingdom laid in his lap and who had no idea what to do with it.

  He blew out a breath and nodded. “We can do that.”

  “No, you can’t,” Tahira snapped. “That would mean they’ll kill Solomon and you cannot allow them to do that under any circumstances.”

  Anger flared bright again in his chest. He could almost feel the fire burning in him. His eyes snapped to hers again. “And why can I not allow them to kill him?”

  The door to his private quarters slammed open and two men strode through. One he recognized as a second face to his own, the other…

  “Raheem?” he gasped, taking one stumbling step toward the other man. “Can it be?”

  The strong man, larger than a mountain, so dear to his heart that he was family, stepped toward him as well. They had eyes only for each other. And though that might have been strange to any from Wildewyn, Nadir couldn’t explain their attachment.

  He’d been the father Nadir had always wanted. The brother who had filled the gaping hole left by Hakim’s death. The friend who had never faltered to keep his head out of the cloud and the guard who had never allowed a blade to touch Nadir’s flesh.

  The betrayal of this man had cut him more than that of his own wife. Raheem had left and Nadir felt as though his entire world had shaken.

  They stared at each other, hands curled into fists as they tried to decide whether they wanted to fight or hug.

  Raheem cleared his throat. “It’s good to see you in one piece, boy.”

  “No thanks to you.”

  “I think you’ll find it’s very much thanks to me.” Another step closer, Raheem was tempting fate with that movement. “I kept watch over her when I knew you couldn’t. You’d have told me to go with her regardless. You know that.”

  “I didn’t ask you to choose anyone over our friendship. Over your duty to your sultan and to your country.”

  Raheem shook his head. “I never called this my country. You never believed I was here because of some misguided belief in my homeland. This is a barren wasteland which has never been kind to me. I was here for you, Nadir. Because I believed in you. Because I believed you could be the sultan this land needed but only if someone guided you. So many snakes surrounded you. Did you really think I was going to let them poison you?”

  “But you did.” The words rocked through him, torn from his chest with a violent yank that made spittle fly from his lips. “You let them poison me. You let them twist me into something I didn’t want to be.”

  “How was I supposed to stop that?”

  Raheem had a point. Even as a guard to the sultan, he had no power in this kingdom. Still, Nadir wanted to blame someone for all the things whi
ch had been done to him.

  It all rushed back into his mind just from standing in this room. How Abdul had shouted at him so many times while leaning over that table, his finger jabbing in the air and his words barbed. How Saafiya had taken him time and again in the bed, her touch as poisonous as her whispered sweet nothings.

  His advisors hadn’t cared for him. He was just a tool to give them more power. Standing in this room, with so many of the people who cared for him and so many of those who were still using him, Nadir realized he didn’t know how to breathe.

  Had he ever taken a full breath? One where he wasn’t worried that something had been put into his drink, or someone wasn’t trying to kill him when no one was looking?

  For once in his life, he just wanted to be a normal man. With a normal wife. Without a beast in his chest constantly clawing for freedom and for the right to defend him.

  He swallowed hard. “I don’t know,” he finally replied, voice thick and throat tight. “I don’t know how you were supposed to help, but someone needed to. And no one did.”

  At that, Raheem burst forward. He crossed the room and yanked Nadir into his arms, slapping his back hard enough to cause pain. His guard’s voice was thick with emotion too when he replied, “I know, boy. I know someone should have.”

  Finally, someone else admitted it. Someone else who he thought so highly of admitted that he was taken advantage of. That there was something wrong with the way he’d been raised and that it wasn’t his fault.

  He curled his arms around Raheem and held on as though the touch could still the emotions rumbling through him. Were his arms hotter than they should be? He was almost certain of it. He could feel the smoke in his lungs curling up through his nostrils and sneaking out in long tendrils.

  Raheem stiffened in his arms, and Nadir immediately let go. He didn’t want to hurt the man who had done so much for him. Gods, what if he had hurt him?

  He looked up only to find Raheem wasn’t looking at him at all. He was staring at Tahira. His cheeks paled and he reached out a hand to put on Nadir’s shoulder once more, this time for balance.