Free The Empire (The Lover's Opalus) by Grayson Reyes-Cole Page A

continued, “I could not show any mercy and I could not send another. I am a man, Raeche. You are my woman. Mine. He was foolishly blinded by your beauty and you were foolishly blinded by a need to rebel. If I had not cut him down, you would have lain with him. I believe it to my core.”
    “Of course, husband , you have proof indeed of what I would have done.”
    “Indeed.” He used the word frequently and would not stop though she mocked him.
    “Rucha is your daughter and the musician was never my lover. You took his place.”
    “I took my place,” he stepped forward, clamping his fingers around the bare skin of her upper arm. She had to crane her head to look him in the eye, he stood so close. She ground her teeth together and considered biting him. “I wore his skin but I took my place. Do you honestly believe I would ever let you get with child from another? You who know better than any of what I am capable?”
    “You are clumsy with the Spirit of Change, how did you do it?”
    He leaned down closer to her face. A menacing grin crossed his lips. “It is not much of a riddle.”
    Raeche gasped. To say “riddle” within the borders of the Empire was a curse upon all of them. She shook her head, trying to think. “Taritana?”
    “Indeed,” he repeated.
    This Raeche had reasoned as well, especially after the Personal’s attempt at confession so many days ago. Taritana had been born and raised in the palace. Her loyalty and love had always belonged to the Emperor, despite the solemn pledge she had made to the Empress. The Personal to the Empress would have never made an overture or reached so far for her infatuation. Instead, she would perform her duty to the Empress with exactness. She would do as the Empress said… then she would relay any indiscretion at all that could challenge the Empire to the Emperor.
    Raeche had been surprised when Taritana passed her Galan’s missive. She had wondered why the Personal had not realized it was more than met the eye. But her Personal had noticed.
    “I think I shall request that my sister lie in my bed when I take a knife to her throat.”
    “You will not.”
    “I can do as I like. She looks on you with excessive favor. I am Empress. It is important you remember that. Never forget. No one, to my borders and beyond, should forget. I am a beast, too, Lanus, and I desire my own blood-song.”
    “Raeche.” His voice softened as it sometimes did. Sometimes he appealed to her and made her a weak woman. “I would never take Taritana and she would never be able to honor herself or her ancestors if she were to indulge in such a fantasy. Send her away if you like. Perhaps to her sister, Dahouina. I am certain after we gave that softling to Praytor that her sister and self-appointed protector would snap at the opportunity to ease Ina’s way. Although in that she would also be dishonored, I would have her live. I would ask that you do not dip your hands in her blood. She is a servant of the Empire.”
    His words did not matter. Raeche did not have it in her to kill the woman. She had witnessed the heart of the Personal. Even with her intensely controlled anger toward the Empress, it remained pure.
    The Empress did feel a modicum of guilt about Taritana’s sister. Raeche had not wanted to hasten Dahouina’s marriage to Praytor. She was neither oblivious to the Personal’s attempts at delaying the inevitable nor impervious to the suffering the softling would experience at Praytor’s hands. But she was the Empire and, until they could discreetly rid the girl of Praytor, this solution would have to do.
    That settled, Raeche’s violence redirected to her husband. Her husband who stood so close that the sparks of Spirit tickled her skin and heated her body. Before he could pick the thought from her mind, she clutched his hair and pressed her mouth to his. She held tight, using her tongue to part his lips. She wanted him to lift her, press her against his body, carry her to the