Chapter 54 Treason
I stayed in the captain’s quarters, huddled on the edge of the cot. The charcoal silk of my dress was stained with salt and the black fluid I kept coughing up. My lungs felt like they were filled with wet wool. Every breath was a struggle against the gravity of the Blight. The lines on my arms had reached my elbows now, dark and pulsing, like ink flowing through my veins.
Klaus didn't come to see me. I heard him on the deck above, his voice barked out in sharp, staccato orders to the crew. He was the Grand Admiral again, cold and distant, but I knew the truth. I knew he had lied to his men. I knew he had told the Emperor’s commandos that the harvest was contaminated just to keep my father out of a jar.
He had committed treason for me. And the price was going to be blood.
When the ship finally docked at the Citadel, the air felt even more suffocating than usual. The sulfur and coal smoke of the city hit my senses like a physical blow. The harbor was crowded with silent, watchful eyes. News of the "failed" mission had traveled faster than the fleet.
Klaus entered the cabin as the anchors dropped. He didn't look like a man who had just saved a kingdom. He looked like a man walking toward his own execution. His uniform was impeccable, his medals glinting in the dim lamp light, but his face was a mask of pale, frozen stone.
"He is waiting," Klaus said. His voice was a flat rasp.
"Klaus, don't go," I whispered, reaching for his hand. My fingers were freezing, stained with the black oil. "Tell him the truth. Tell him the Scourge took everything. He won't know."
"He always knows," Klaus said, gently pulling his hand away. He didn't look at me. "The Emperor does not accept failure, Nerissa. Especially not from the man who holds the leash."
He reached for my cloak and draped it over my shoulders, his fingers grazing my neck for a fraction of a second. I felt the spark of the Anchor bond, a sharp, bitter needle of pain that made us both flinch.
"Whatever happens in that room," he murmured, his gaze finally meeting mine, "do not speak. Do not sing. Do not try to save me. If you do, we both die today."
The Emperor didn't sit on his throne this time. He was standing by the high, narrow window that overlooked the city, his back to us. His long, skeletal fingers were clasped behind his back, the yellowed nails looking like talons.
The silence was a physical weight. I could hear the black fluid hitting the floor from my own mouth. I pressed my handkerchief to my lips, trying to muffle the wet sound of my breathing.
Klaus walked to the center of the room and knelt. He didn't bow his head; he kept his eyes fixed on the Emperor’s back, his jaw set in that hard, military line.
"Your Eminence," Klaus said.
The Emperor didn't turn around. "The fleet has returned empty, Peregrine."
"The Southern Rift was compromised," Klaus said, his voice steady. "The Scourge had already breached the royal chambers. The oil was contaminated by the black rot. To harvest it would have poisoned the Imperial reserves."
The Emperor turned slowly. His blind, milky eyes seemed to pierce through the darkness. He tilted his head, sniffing the air like a hound.
"Contaminated," the Emperor repeated. The word slid out of his mouth like a snake. "How very... convenient."
He walked toward Klaus, his robes hissing against the stone. He stopped inches away, looming over the kneeling Admiral. He reached out and touched the silver braid on Klaus’s shoulder.
"You have been my Anchor for three centuries, Peregrine," the Emperor whispered. "I chose you because you were the most loyal hound in the kennel. I gave you the rank, the fleet, and the Siren. I gave you your life back when the Blight started to claim you."
He leaned down, his face inches from Klaus’s.
"Do you take me for a fool?"
"The report is accurate, Your Eminence," Klaus stated, his voice devoid of emotion.
The Emperor’s hand moved from Klaus’s shoulder to his jaw. He gripped Klaus’s face, his fingers digging into the pale skin.
"I smell the sea on you," the Emperor hissed. "But I also smell salt. And I smell a lie."
He shoved Klaus back. Klaus hit the stone floor but scrambled back into a kneeling position instantly, refusing to show weakness.
The Emperor turned his gaze to me. I shivered under the weight of those dead, white eyes. He saw the black lines on my face. He saw the way I was clutching my chest.
"Arch-Duchess," the Emperor said. "You were there. You saw your father. Tell me... was he contaminated?"
I felt Klaus’s gaze on me, a desperate, silent plea. Do not speak.
I looked at the Emperor. I smelled the ancient decay radiating from him, the scent of a creature that had cheated death by feeding on the world's misery.