Realm of Light - Deborah Chester [155]
Horrified, Elandra stared at him. “Tirhin, no!”
“Yes. The wound will never heal. I can never sleep again, but I don’t care. All is worth it.”
“But your father did not—”
“No,” he interrupted quietly. “Kostimon did not make the same bargain I have. Kostimon did not pay the same price. But you see, Kostimon had to pay when he died. I am paying now, in exchange for something far sweeter.”
She frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to. But I am nothing to fear, I assure you. I shan’t turn into a monster when you least expect it. I am as I shall always be. Young and manly. In my prime.”
Elandra blinked. Was he mad? Did he not see how thin and haggard he actually was? Was he unaware of how ill he looked? Did he still believe himself the strong, handsome young man he had been only a few months past? He was lying to her; most certainly he was lying to himself if he believed any of what he had just said.
“Now I have been open and honest with you,” Tirhin said, putting his cup aside. “I have explained my reasons and shared my plans for the future with you.”
“Future?” she said in astonishment, and gestured at the window. “What future do you expect? Darkness has swallowed Imperia. Soon it will engulf all the empire.”
He nodded. “Things are changing, but we will rebuild the city. We—”
“Tirhin!” she said sharply, forgetting caution. “Are you mad? Do you not realize that we are ending? The demons will rule, not you.”
“We will rule,” he said, leaning forward to grasp her hand.
She tried to pull free, but he held her fast.
“Listen to me,” he said intently, gazing into her eyes. “I have nothing to fear, and once you are married to me you will have nothing to fear either. There are ways to survive, even in perpetual night.”
“No,” she whispered, trying again to pull free.
“You are a beautiful woman,” he said. “Courageous, wellborn, intelligent. The people love you. When my father chose you, he chose well. Together, we can mend what is broken in the empire. You are already crowned. Our alliance will be—”
“No!”
She jerked her hand from his and stood up, circling to stand behind her chair. She needed that physical barrier between them.
“Elandra, listen—”
“I will not hear you,” she said in agitation. Dear Gault, she had even felt sorry for him. She had forgotten how charming the man could be, how persuasive.
“Elandra, it is imperative that we marry.”
Her face grew hot. She glared at him defiantly. “Imperative for you, perhaps, but not for me.”
“You cannot rule the empire alone. The people will not accept it.”
“Then I shall not rule,” she told him.
He laughed and levered himself painfully to his feet. “That is a lie. I can see ambition in your face, hear it in your voice. You were hoping to align yourself with Gialta and the imperial army, but as you have seen, neither of those factors belong to you. I made sure of that from the start.”
“Then you do not need me.”
“Our borders are weak. Our enemies think we can be taken while we are in this confusion. I don’t have time to deal with internal problems and an unruly populace. The people accept you. Don’t throw away your crown.”
He stared at her a moment, then tilted his head to one side. “Am I so horrible, so repugnant, as a price to pay for your throne? After all, you were married to Kostimon in a political arrangement. This is no different.”
“It is very different,” she snapped.
Color darkened his cheeks, and his eyes narrowed. “In what way?” he asked.
The cold anger in his voice was a warning, but her own temper was flaring. “I was married to the emperor” she said. “You are only a usurper.”
Her words were intended to hurt as much as possible. The widening of Tirhin’s eyes told her she had succeeded.
Crimson surged into his face, then receded, leaving him paler than before. His eyes glittered with fury, and he lowered his head between his shoulders like a serpent about to strike.
“You fool,” he said, his voice cutting. “You are not a peasant girl, able to pick from your offers. You are of the