“This is why you came to me.” He said it so softly, almost to himself. “And the reason why you’ve been watching me all day.”

Jovine looked away, unable to hold his gaze. She wished she had the luxury for genuine connection, but no matter how many times he called her by name, their titles remained. And, so did her burden. What else could she do but be painfully honest?

“Yes,” she answered.

A short humorless laugh escaped him. When she glanced down, she saw him clench his fists over the sacks he still held.

“I have no part, nor do I want one,” he muttered, his voice devoid of any emotion.

She was right. He didn’t want to fight, and the walls they had momentarily overcome were built again, barring one from moving the other. Pushing him further would drive him to a place where he’d be far-removed from her reach. Jovine didn’t want it to come to that, but did she even have a choice?

“Then, why are you still here?” she asked, finally looking him in the eye. Golden eyes that were no longer honeyed comfort but solid amber.

He frowned in answer, confusion marring his striking face.

“It was clear you were meant to leave for Mallory, yet you stayed. That itself is a movement.”

“I didn’t stay to be a part of some twisted game,” he retorted.

“Regardless, you’re still here. You care about the people. You have a legitimate claim. I know you understand the implications of your presence here.”

A muscle flexed in his jaw as he wordlessly stared at her. Like he wanted to say something that couldn’t be uttered. “You’re right,” he finally said. “I was naive in thinking to stay.”

“Amon —”

“I’ll be going back to Mallory soon. You won’t have to worry about any interference from me.”

He turned to start towards the village again when Jovine reached out and grabbed his wrist. She felt him tense.

“Interfere.”

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“What?”

“Take him down,” she said. “Seat yourself on the Throne.”

Heavy silence suffocated the mere inches between them. His eyes flitted across hers as he weighed the severity of what she just voiced.

Treason.

A harsh breeze rattled against her body.

"Do you have any idea what you're asking me to do?" he muttered darkly.

"Do I need to make myself clearer?" she shot back.

Amon scoffed, shaking his head. “I see even my Empress is eager to use me as a pawn.” He shifted away from her touch. “Which part about me called out to you? The horde of supporters I never asked for? Or the fact that your husband despises me?”

Jovine internally flinched. He had every right to be angered. He was a pawn. But, they were all pawns in the face of power. No amount of embellished lies could change that.

She settled on blunt honesty. “Either. Both. Everything. There’s no difference. Whatever part, it all comes back to you.”

“And my refusal means nothing?”

“I’m left with two choices, Amon. I can remain complacent and wash myself in the suffering. Or, I can fight. Play. Whatever it takes to end this.” Jovine lifted her chin, her voice gaining strength. “I see the injustice burning in your eyes. If you do nothing, do you honestly believe the Emperor will leave you alone? Leave Mallory alone? You're a threat. A formiddable one. He’s too far gone to reason against you.”

Amon clenched his jaw, keeping his words to himself.

“The Emperor and I don’t have children,” she reminded him. “You have claim. So, will you stake it now or be forced to when he’s run Theolos to the ground? It's only a matter of time.”

His hard gaze pierced into her. She could see the conflict raging within him. Even he couldn’t deny that the Empire would fester if Richard remained where he stood.

“And if there’s been foul play?” he asked lowly.

Jovine frowned at the strange question. “Foul play?”

“What if you decide to forgive him?”

An uneasy trickle of offense stirred in her gut. The way he worded his question felt bitter and unsettling, but she heard the underlying implication. Jovine straightened, her eyes narrowing. “I’m not going to the lengths of treason because I’ve been scorned by an unfaithful man. No matter his failings as a husband, if Richard de Tristaine was fit to rule, the simplicity of abdicating my throne and leaving him would have been the most painless form of retribution. One that didn’t gamble away my life and yours. But, he is not fit to rule. That much is explicitly clear.”

His unreadable eyes remained locked on her face. What was he looking for from her?

Jovine glanced down at the coin in her palm, the gold engravings of his House’s Columbine Flower glaring at her under the waning sunlight. “I’m not one to gamble. I don’t like the risk.” The rushing wind caressed her as she looked up. “But, I’ve decided to bet on you, Amon vel Feyras."

The breeze picked up in pace as he closed his eyes and swallowed. Standing there, with his silver hair dancing to the wind’s symphony, she could see him with a crown. A crown of burden and corruption, but one he could tame with his humanity.

Amon opened his eyes. “Two conditions.”

Her pulse jumped. Was he agreeing to play?

“Mallory will be restored as the Imperial Capital.”

Restored?

“And you will marry and rule beside me as Empress.”