Mark of the Empress | The Empire Saga #2

Chapter Twelve

The night had grown colder as Treyan walked to the library and he hoped for Bria's sake that she had an overcoat to shield her from the chill of the October wind. His own internal temperature was up due to the adrenaline that ran through his body after hanging up the phone with Alex. She suggested he stay longer to discover more from his mother, but he promised he would be home tomorrow—he needed to see her. Thinking about her now warmed him to the core, and for a moment he could only think about touching her as he hadn't in so long.

They had decided together that Bria would know nothing of Saratanya living in the city, let alone actually being alive. The less she knew, the better chance Reylor would never find out, and it would give them more time to figure out what they were going to do with the information. Saratanya could be the wild card they needed—the anomaly that could get them back to the Empire with the upper hand.

Treyan had chosen not to tell Alex about the information Bria had given him regarding the Councillor, though it was in the back of his mind while he talked to her. Where she thought they would need all the help they could get against Reylor, Treyan knew the true obstacle would be the Councillor if Bria's tale was true.

The Councillor.

Razen. His uncle.

Treyan had not told Alex that news either. Even he was having a difficult time processing it. To think that the man that had been like a father to him and his brother, when they believed their parents had perished, was in actuality their own blood, with potentially the knowledge that their mother was still alive the entire time.

It was all too much to handle, and he still needed to deal with Bria.

As expected, she sat huddled on the steps of the now-closed library, wrapped up in her thin jacket with the tome on her bent knees, looking similar to a homeless person. In a way she was, he mused.

At the moment, she spent nights sleeping on their couch, which was another item they were going to have to address upon his return. Between the two of them, Sarayna, and the occasional visit from Crystal, their apartment had seen nonstop traffic ever since he was back on his feet, without leaving either of them with much private time. Not that there was much time for that to begin with, but they needed some if they were going to keep their wits about them and re-homing Bria would be his top priority.

Treyan braced himself for the wrath that would soon be set upon him. She saw him as he approached and quickly stood up. He had his apologies all lined up, but before he could get a word out, she was upon him.

"I think I found something," she informed him, sounding joyful.

Treyan had almost forgotten what he had set her out to do in the first place in the frenzy of everything going on.

"Good, you can tell me on the way to Grand Central Station," he responded as he coaxed her away from the library and down the city sidewalk.

"The station?" She put on the brakes, much to his dismay. "We're leaving? What about the apartment?"

Treyan was expecting this resistance. "The apartment came up empty. A burnt-out shell of what once was. There was nothing there, and I'd rather not think about it, or my mother, any further."

Bria raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I see. So then, where will we sleep tonight?"

"We won't. Or at least we won't be sleeping here."

"Where then?"

"We're going back to Boston."

"We just got here!"

"And we've done all we can." He motioned back down the sidewalk. When she didn't budge, he walked past her. Either she would follow, or she would not, but he wasn't going to delay another minute—he wanted to go home to his Empress.

It didn't take her long to catch up. "What now?"

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as they continued to walk. "First we will take the next train up to Boston. Then, we will walk back to my apartment, where you will remain on the couch while I make love to my wife."

She rolled her eyes.

"Then," he continued, "we will discuss our next plan of action."

"But you said you didn't find anything."

"Correct. However, you did."

She gave a small shrug. "I had plenty of time to kill." Now it was her turn to glance at him out of the corner of her eye. "I was able to dig deeper into the Key construction manual."

"What did you find?" Better her than him, Treyan thought. He had always hated that book.

"I think it will be a lot simpler than we thought. Of course, it will involve monitoring the moon cycles, both here and within the Empire, and we will need artifacts for each person who wants to cross, in addition to actually casting the magic involved to create the Key itself."

"That's doesn't sound easy to me."

"I said simple. I didn't say easy. And it will take some time gathering the components and for me to research the moon cycles, but it's more to go on than we had. Which is more than you can say." The last portion was muttered almost under her breath, but he heard her just the same and chose to ignore the snark.

The walk to the station was uneventful, and they were able to purchase tickets for the next train leaving within the hour. Treyan's anxiety was undeniable as his thoughts shifted between his mother being alive, to the possibility of the Councillor's betrayal, to getting back to the Empire, to getting back to Alex. Of those, there was only one he could possibly remedy sooner than the others, so he tried his best to focus on that.

The train ride home felt as though it took double the time it had taken to get to New York, and Treyan could barely keep still. He was surprised that his tapping hands and bouncing leg didn't wake up the sleeping Bria next to him, and he was grateful that she was asleep so as not to berate him. The rest of the trip he wished she would have been awake so that he would have had something to do to pass the time. He would have even given in to talking about Reylor; anything to keep his mind occupied during the tedious train ride back.

He did everything in his power not to sprint down the street once they departed from the train and left South Station. He was glad he only had his backpack, and Bria her satchel, for they were able to walk at a brisk pace back to the apartment. It was late—he had lost track of the exact time—and as the air had turned frigid, he knew Bria wouldn't protest getting out of the open air faster than normal.

He panicked when they arrived at the apartment. He didn't have his own set of keys yet, and everything had moved so quickly that there hadn't been time to make a copy. He tried pulling on the gate to no avail and reached his hand through to knock lightly on the apartment door. He knew Alex locked both the grid iron gate and the inside door at night. He hoped and prayed that she was still awake.

She must have been waiting up, for it was only a minute before he heard the inside door's deadbolts unlock, and soon the only thing separating him from his wife was a door of wrought iron. She looked at him, wearing her over-sized sweatshirt and pajama pants, with her auburn hair up in a loose ponytail. While he watched her, though no words were said, she must have seen the passion in his eyes for she fumbled with the gate and opened it as soon as she could.

The second it wasunlocked, he whipped it open and took her face between his hands and crashed hislips into hers. She was more than ready, returning his kiss with as muchferocity as he could have asked for. She wrapped her arms around his neck, andhe hoisted her up in a hug so that her legs wrapped around his waist. Grabbinghold of her bottom and refusing to break the kiss, he brought her straight downthe hallway to their bedroom and kicked the door shut, not giving anotherthought to anything else but what he wanted to do to her.