A bone-weary fatigue shook her body as Jovine stepped out into the Main Hall. All she wanted to do was sink into the nearest cushion to rest her pounding head, but the work wasn’t done. It never was.

The past few days had proved that the fight would be ugly. Whether it was from the greasy agreement she struck with Lord Jameson to get him to resign or the lies she spat to wound the Emperor, Jovine was now as shameless as ever. Clutching her hand to her stomach, she tried smothering the uneasy tension that pressed against her insides.

Why was she feeling so anxious?

The debacle had ended smoothly enough, with Amon’s memorable introduction to Court and her confrontation with Richard, but she couldn’t rid of the bitter taste in her mouth. Nor could she help but feel a little jolted.

She had expected the rage and manipulation, but there were more things she never saw coming. Like the hurt in Richard’s eyes, the way he touched her, or the pointless resignation he seemed to shoulder in the end. Jovine wanted nothing more than for him to feel the utter betrayal she felt when he first embraced Emilia; the sight of him rushing to her aid on the night of their Coronation would never fade from her memory. Yet, there was a twist of madness that leaked into her resolve. It would only venture further into a vile tug of control, and the prospect of it was damning enough to shudder every nerve ending in her fragile body.

Jovine swallowed the panic down and stopped when she saw someone waiting for her. Two of them.

Elias and Amon. An unlikely, vastly different pair who had formed a peculiar bond in the past few days. With her brother being the one to deliver her letters to the Grand Duke, it wasn’t exactly a surprise that they had become accustomed to one another. But the way they both leaned against the floor length windows in the Hall, arms crossed and faces serious as they quietly conversed together, raised her brows.

Sensing her presence, the two men straightened, their faces mirroring the same expression of concern.

“You’re looking pale,” Elias said.

“Yes, thank you for that observation, Elias,” Jovine sighed, looking towards Amon instead. It seemed he was back to tying his hair — a shame, she thought to herself. He looked much freer with the strands unbound.

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Another anxious lump sunk to the pit of her stomach as she braced herself to speak with him. Other than the very brief, rushed greeting they exchanged in the morning before the Council Meeting, she was never able to get him alone. Never able to ask in her letters or dare to speak with ears listening of the speculation she now swore was a hallucination.

“Amon, I need to speak to you.”

A knowing glint flashed in his eyes. He knew what she was itching to bring up, but instead of proceeding, he glanced at Elias.

“What is it?” she asked.

When her brother remained silent, staring into the distance with a particularly stern gaze, Amon answered for him. “The Marquess is here.”

She frowned, looking at Elias, who was pointedly still not meeting her gaze. “Our father? When? Why?”

When Elias still didn’t answer, she had a sense she wouldn’t like the reason. “Elias, why is he here?”

The longer he bit down, the more her suspicions grew. The last time she saw her father was at her Coronation, though his physical presence was nothing when his mind was far away. Grief over the deaths of the late Emperor and Empress had struck the Marquess harder than most. For Edward Rainer, he had lost his friends rather than his monarchs. She understood his need for distance and time, so the unexpected visit was too out of place.

“Lias?”

“He’s the one who bartered with Jameson,” Elias finally said.

“What?”

“Father was the one who offered that greedy bastard a piece of his land."

Her lips parted in shock. It had been a struggle trying to bargain with the lord, but Jovine had been set on Amon taking the role of Finance at Court. Instead of taking the decent route of voluntarily stepping down from a role he unethically managed, the Lord Jameson wanted payment. Something large and permanent. When Elias had come to her the morning before with news of his acceptance on the offer of land, she had assumed her brother Easton had helped arrange something small in their favor.

She had never wanted to involve their father.

“Did you approach him?” Jovine carefully asked. Elias hadn’t spoken to their parents for years now.

“No.”

“Then, why…how?”

“Ask him,” Elias said. “He’s waiting at the Cemetery.”

Before she could mention to take a chance and come with her, he brushed past her without another word. She watched him leave, biting the insides of her cheek as his retreating back disappeared behind a corner.

It seemed the past would never stop haunting him.

“Jovine?”

She turned to Amon, her head spiking in pressure with the added strain. “Amon...I apologize. Will you wait for me in the drawing room?”

“Of course.”

“I’m sure this has been overwhelming for you... Please get some rest while I meet with him.”

She moved to head to the Cemetery when Amon gently grasped her wrist. “Are you alright?”

Jovine looked into his troubled face. I have to be.

“I will be.”