The Empress faltered, the regal composure she wore like armor beginning to fray at the edges. "I... I only shared what I felt, Lucius. You know how consumed she was by her infatuation. She begged me to intervene because she knew you would deny his suit on sight. What was I to do when my dearest friend pleaded for her heart's desire?"
Lucius took a breath so deep it seemed to hollow out his chest, his voice dropping to a dark, cavernous whisper. "Yes, I remember. I remember every word. And though our bond has withered since that union—though our letters have grown as cold and sterile as treaties between strangers—she is still my little sister. My own blood."
He turned back to the window, the shadows of the looming night reflected in his eyes. "My heart tells me she is in peril. Should I ride for the Duchy of Tharron? I cannot stomach the sight of Roland's twisted smirk, but I fear I have no choice."
