In the Wake of the Wicked (Veridian Empire #1)

22. Leo

22

Leo

I caught Rose’s outstretched wrist as she lunged at me with bared teeth. She quickly twisted her arm and yanked out of my hold, reaching for a hexagonal shaped pouch hanging from her green vest. I whipped my tail around to circle her right arm, but she grabbed a hidden dagger with the other and aimed it at the length of fur wrapped between us.

Gripping her left hand just in time, I withdrew my tail and spun her around so her back was to my chest, my arm restraining her. Her ragged breaths filled the cottage, her soft skin hot with anger beneath my touch. My fingers grazed her wrist, applying enough pressure that the dagger fell to the floor with a clatter.

When she let out a sharp cry of pain, I remembered her injuries and instantly released her. “I don’t want to hurt you, but you need to calm down,” I said sharply, more harsh than I intended with my chest heaving.

She folded an arm around her right side, wincing at the contact. “I don’t have time for this,” she said, her voice shaking. From pain or barely-controlled wrath, I wasn’t sure. At the mention of our surname, it was as if she had lost control. “I have to finish the trial and get back to the palace.”

“You can’t go anywhere like that,” I said, pointing at her side. I may be irritated by the whole situation, but I didn’t want the woman dead. “We can help you.”

“I’ve had enough of your help over the last few days,” she spat.

Rissa cursed. “Fates, you two…alright, here’s what’s going to happen. Rose, you’ll let Leo mend whatever injuries your fall caused. Then, you’re both going to tell me how you know one another. Lark and I have worked too hard to make sure the pieces of this mission fall into place, and this is our best shot. I won’t have you two screwing it up because of your ridiculous pride.” Her eyes burned into mine at that last comment.

To her credit, Rose straightened, her cheek flinching faintly before she smoothed her features. “I have no idea who you people are. Tell me why I should trust you, much less obey you.”

My eyebrow hitched upward. This time, it was my turn to smirk at my sister, who was unused to having her authority questioned among the ranks of the Sentinels. As the proper heir to the Veridian Empire, she had naturally stepped into the role of a leader, and I would gladly admit she led our covert group of rebels beautifully. It had been quite a while since she’d come across someone who didn’t immediately fall at her feet. I should have guessed Rose Wolff wouldn’t be one of them.

“You should trust me because we’re on the same side,” Rissa explained, calmly but firmly. “While Lark may be the head architect for this Decemvirate, I am the one she answers to. Not Gayl. We couldn’t care less if you win this tournament, but we’re all counting on you to find the emperor’s Grimoire, and we’re willing to do what it takes to help. And I don’t expect you to obey me like some mindless servant, Rose.” Rissa took a step toward her. “I expect you to recognize the gravity of this situation and respect the fact that it’s larger than you and whatever personal vendetta you may have against our father, and therefore, us.

“You’re here because your uncle saw something in you, and Lark must have seen it, too. You’re here because you want change . You want to see justice. That means you have to work with us, Rose, not against us. It’s not a matter of obedience. It’s a matter of choosing where your loyalties lie and committing to this cause. Do you think you can do that?”

My sister truly was a force to be reckoned with, when she wanted to be. But I had a feeling this Rose was not without her own thorns. I shifted my gaze between the two women, feeling the tension crackling and snapping in the air. Rose’s breaths became louder, more labored, as if the pain from her injuries was becoming too difficult to bear.

“I think I’ve proven my commitment to you,” Rose said, gesturing to her side. “You’re right—we want the same thing. I’ll do what you need me to do, but it’s going to take more than a pretty speech to get me to trust you.”

Rissa considered her silently for a moment. Finally, her face relaxed, her lips almost curving into a smile. “Well, then, I suppose we’ll work on earning it. Let’s start by fixing those broken ribs, hmm?”

Rose wet her lips and eyed us hesitantly, that same suspicion and anger lingering. Her pain and desire to get back into the tournament must have outweighed her reservations, for she gave a swift nod and limped toward the couch. Rissa raised an eyebrow at me and I took that as my cue to begin preparing a healing tonic—one our father had passed on to me before he died.

While I worked at the kitchen counter, I listened to Rose and Rissa talk.

“How do you two know Lark?” Rose asked.

“Lark has been a close friend for more than a decade. She’s been working with us on our plan to use the Decemvirate as a way to get closer to Gayl,” Rissa explained. “When she made a bid for the head architect position several years ago and was appointed, we knew it was fate. It was her idea to involve a challenger in the first place. She’s the one who found your uncle.”

“So, it’s just you three? The masterminds behind this grand plan?”

I smirked as I chopped a bay leaf, and Rissa chuckled before answering. “It may have started with my brother and me, but it’s become something beyond our wildest dreams. We created a group called the Sentinels over five years ago after seeing the growing problems here at the capital, and could only assume it was happening across the entire empire, too. We have two hundred faithful recruits spread over the city, as well as a handful in each of the six provinces, all part of a network that leads back to here.”

Rose released a slow breath. “And what’s the purpose of this group?”

“To remove Gayl from power, end the Somnivae curse, and bring this empire back to a semblance of what it used to be,” Rissa answered succinctly. And finally avenge our father , I thought to myself.

Rose scoffed. “Just like that?”

Her question made me falter, my fingers stiffening as I added elderberry oil to my potion. “What do you mean?” I called out, glancing behind me to the couch.

With a shrug, she said, “You make it sound so…easy. Take him down and end the curse—and then it’s over. What about his supporters? His court, the Royal Guard, those who practically worship him across the provinces, especially the stronger ones. Not everyone is like me, you know,” she added. “Plenty of people think he saved us from your father’s rule. And if you succeed, who would replace him? Would it be someone just as power-hungry, just as cruel? Would they actually care about the provinces?”

“Of course, we’ve thought about all these things, Rose,” my sister answered. “And we have a plan. We’re not ignorant to what’s been going on outside of Veridia City. Trust me, that’s not how we want it to be, either.” She shook her head, blonde curls bouncing, and I went back to mixing the tonic. “This is something we’ve been building toward for years . I promise you, if we play our cards right over the next month, we have hope for a better future for everyone . This isn’t some dimwitted plan of a bunch of amateurs.”

“I—I never said it was,” Rose said, her voice more unsure than usual. “These last couple days have been a lot to take in. I don’t know who I can trust or who’s out to get me.”

I turned at her words, unable to resist seeing her in this moment of vulnerability. Uncertainty crept onto her features, so at odds with the thorns and sharp tongue.

“Well, you can trust us , for one,” Rissa said. “And Lark, of course. There’s a guard at the palace who’s also part of our ranks. You’ve met him—his name is Horace.”

Rose’s mouth gaped open. “ Horace ? I should’ve known. But…you seemed surprised by all of this, too,” she said, nodding to me as I made my way to the couch with a glass of the lavender tonic. I noticed her eyes were colder when she gazed at me as opposed to my sister, her olive features holding a hint of resentment.

I knew the feeling.

“When you saw me this morning, did you know who I was?” Rose tilted her head inquisitively at me. Dark waves of hair cascaded down one shoulder. My sister turned to face me, and I cursed, running a hand through my hair. She still didn’t know I’d snuck into the palace against her wishes.

“What happened this morning?” Rissa asked with thinly veiled irritation.

At this interaction, Rose’s face went from curious to sly understanding, her lips twitching as her green eyes flashed at me. The little wolf knew exactly what she’d done.

“I ran into Rose by accident,” I said stiffly.

Rose quirked an eyebrow. “Why don’t you tell her where you ran into me?”

I glared at her. Rissa, however, beamed. “Oh, I like this one,” she purred.

This new development between the two of them did not bode well for me. “I was at the palace. Is that what you wanted to hear, Rissa?”

Her playfulness swiftly fell. “No, brother , it’s not. What were you doing there? You know I explicitly told you to stay out of this. If either of us are seen?— ”

“I know, I know,” I said through my teeth, cutting her off. “Can we have this conversation later?”

She glowered. “Fine. We’ll talk when I get back. I’m going to get a message to Lark, tell her we have Rose safe here. You,” she pointed to me, her finger like a vicious dagger at my chest, “take care of this.” She gestured to Rose’s broken ribs. When I nodded tightly, she grabbed her cloak off the couch, leaving us alone once more.

The seconds dragged in awkward silence. I took a seat on the short table across from Rose, wanting to get this over with.

She eyed the glass of lavender tonic warily when I held it out. “It’s bay leaf, elderberry oil, and crushed lavender with bergamot to strengthen it,” I explained. “After what Rissa said, you should know we’re not trying to kill you.”

She twisted her lips but relented, taking the vial and throwing the contents back in one go. When she straightened, a lock of raven hair swept across her cheek. My eyes followed her fingers as she pushed it behind her ear. “How long will it take to start working?” she asked, already getting to her feet. “I need to finish the trial before I become even more of a joke , as you’ve so kindly pointed out.”

I rubbed my chin in exasperation. I was never going to live that down. She was perhaps more impatient and stubborn than even myself. “That’s not what I meant, Rose.” When she didn’t respond, I sighed. “It will take all night to heal completely, but you’ll be able to move with minimal pain after the next couple of hours. I can apply a topical potion as well, see if that helps speed it along.”

“Fine.”

Another moment of uncomfortable tension swelled. She peered down at me. “Well? Where’s the topical one?”

I cleared my throat. “I need to see the injury first to know what tincture to use. If that’s alright with you. ”

She pursed her lips but nodded, turning so her wounded side faced me.

“May I?” I asked, looking up at her. When she nodded again, I slipped my fingers beneath her black shirt, slowly pulling the fabric up, exposing smooth skin inch by inch. She sucked in a breath when my thumb brushed against her waist, and I paused.

“Is this alright?”

She swallowed. “Yes. It’s just—your hands are cold.” A flush crept up her cheeks.

I was unable to stop the myriad of ways I could keep my hands warm from flashing through my mind. But the sight that greeted me as I continued pushing her shirt above her ribcage cleared away any stray thought.

The patch of skin on her side was deeply bruised, with blotches of dark purple and red curving down to her waist and the underside of her breast. Small pockets of even darker red, almost black, dotted her olive skin where blood vessels had broken beneath the surface.

“Fates, what happened to you?” I asked on an exhale.

“Fell from my horse. Or rather, she threw me off. Probably stepped on my side too, if this is any indication.” She lowered her shirt. “I was fighting the Illusionist challenger and tried to get away when he did something to spook her. That’s the last thing I remember.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, cringing slightly at the image of a horse trampling her. “That sounds painful.”

“There are worse kinds of pain.”

A different image came to the surface, one of her from earlier this morning when she stumbled into my path. The terror, exhaustion, and panic I’d seen.

Needing a reprieve from the heaviness that had set over us, I rose from the small table and paced to the kitchen, gathering ingredients for the topical charm. I supposed her conviction was admirable—I don’t know how many would be willing to return to the trial after what she’d already endured. No matter what vitriol had spewed from my mouth earlier, I wanted to believe she’d be able to find Gayl’s Grimoire. But my sister knew me and my prideful distrust well; it was difficult to relinquish the part of me that knew I could do this, that was so convinced I was our best chance at ending things.

“Where did you learn how to make all these tonics?” she asked from the couch, breaking my thoughts.

The side of my mouth lifted as I worked. “My sister and I weren’t particularly careful as children. Especially after Rissa learned how to shift.”

“And what about you? You’re half Shifter, so can’t you shift, as well?”

I glanced over my shoulder. “What makes you think I’m half anything?

She snorted. “For one, you have a tail .” Her eyes darted to the floor, where my dark tail coiled at my ankles. “And I heard you cast a spell that night in the forest. Plus, you know your herbs and charms too well to be anything but an Alchemist.”

“Yes, I’m half Shifter.” I grounded the fleawort leaves with a pestle and mixed them with cedarwood oil until it formed a thin paste. “No, I can’t fully shift.”

“Why not?”

I knew she was merely inquisitive, and understandably so, considering she’d lived her entire life in a province surrounded by only Alchemy. She didn’t know how other types of magic worked, had probably never even had a conversation with someone from a different province before this week. But still, my biting paranoia and defensiveness crept in, making my walls flare up the way they often did when my childhood was brought to the forefront. With it came memories I didn’t want to relive, the deep well of guilt I didn’t want to drown in again.

Growing up as pariahs, as exiles in this empire, watching the world turn on our father and crush my mother’s spirit, had forced Rissa and me to lean heavily on one another. We were compelled to do things no child should have to do. Things I couldn’t take back .

Things that had changed me forever.

I turned back to the couch, where Rose stared at me expectantly. I cleared my throat. “Magic doesn’t always work the way you think it will,” was all I said in response.

She opened her mouth as if she wanted to press the issue, but thought better of it. I set my mortar on the counter, taking a seat once again and gesturing to her midsection. She stood, gingerly lifting her shirt for me.

Remembering how my touch had been cold before, I’d cast a heating spell on the cedarwood and fleawort mixture. I dipped a finger into the warm oil and slowly spread it across the massive bruise at her ribs. Her answering sigh as she rolled her head onto her neck made my stomach tighten.

“My father taught me how to make this,” I said carefully. A question burned in the back of my throat as I massaged her skin, one that had bothered me since she spoke the words. “What did you mean earlier when you said he’s the reason yours is dead?” I asked.

Her neck snapped back to attention and her entire demeanor shifted, cold and guarded once more. She assessed me with those keen emerald eyes, and I could see her thoughts churning. Could see her deciding if she trusted me enough to share whatever had made her lash out.

She ran her tongue along her teeth. “My father was killed by men who worked for Branock Aris,” she finally said, her words cutting and sharp.

My fingers stopped moving. “That’s impossible.”

“Why?” she challenged.

“When did your father die?”

She grinded her teeth together so loudly I could hear it. “Twenty years ago.”

Twenty years. So my father had still been alive. But there was no way he would have had some Alchemist from Feywood killed. He’d already abdicated his throne at that point—what reason or resources would he have even had to send someone to do such a thing? Branock Aris had been a brash man with faults of his own, but he wasn’t savage, and certainly not a murderer. She didn’t know a thing about him or what the past years carried.

My father had more blame placed on his shoulders than any man should. He’d had his name— our name—drug through the mud for decades now. And it was all a lie.

He didn’t deserve one more added to it. I wouldn’t stand for his memory to continue being desecrated.

“Trust me, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” I snapped, pulling her shirt down with more force than was necessary. I picked up my mortar and rose from the table the same moment she pivoted to face me. We were inches apart, her eyes blazing up at me, cheeks heated and pink.

“I don’t know what I’m talking about?” she spat. Her indignation washed over my skin. “I watched as the man who slit my father’s throat said, ‘Branock Aris sends his love,’ then left him to drown in his own blood.” She shoved a finger at my chest, the tip seeming to burn through my thin shirt. “Who are you to tell me I’m wrong? That I don’t know what I’m talking about? You have no idea what I’ve been through, and it’s because of him. Your father.”

She slid away from me and rounded the couch, grabbing a thin, wide book from the table and reaching for her dagger on the floor as she strode toward the door. Her staggered steps were already stronger.

Her eyes flashed at me once more, the moment of tentative peace we’d created earlier now shattered. “I’ll work with you and your Sentinels, Aris. I’ll break the curse. But don’t ask me to trust you.”