Amynus closed the bedroom door behind him, eyes to the floor, mournful.
He had never seen his mother cry before. It was strange to see her so vulnerable, so weak. He wasn't quite sure how to feel about it. Although, he wasn't sure how to feel about a fair number of things at that particular moment. He was sad and proud, also worried and resentful, but more than anything he was angry, so very, very angry.
In Sudra, it was the greatest honour to die protecting your country, but to fall at the hand of a Duran? And a single Duran at that?
Amynus could only imagine what a man this Emperor must be to have defeated the great Drazah.
"How is she?" came a soft voice, crackled with concern.
Amynus looked up to find the stony eyes of Aeryn, the head of his Mothers staff. He supposed she had been waiting out there this whole time.
"Not great," he admitted, considering her trustworthy. "Their bond has broken. We should prepare for the Emperors' arrival."
Aeryn swallowed. "And you?" she asked. Amynus scowled his response. "You need to be strong, Your Highness. With Her Majesty incapacitated, people will be looking to you for answers."
"Like I have any," he growled, the sore subject poking holes in his already simmering composure. "Even if Mother has a contingency plan in place, you know I'd be the last to know."
Aeryn bowed her head in agreement, too loyal to speak poorly of her master. Amynus scoffed at her silence.
"We already have our assignments," offered Aeryn timidly. "We can continue with them until Her Majesty is feeling better."
"That's great," he replied, catching the bitterness in his tone. "Do you know when she fed last?"
Aeryn shook her head. "Should I send in the new girl?"
"No, I'm not sure she'll have the strength of restraint. See if you can tempt her with something from the dungeon before sending in someone we'll miss."
"As you wish," Aeryn bowed.
"It's essential we keep her energy levels up," Amynus warned. "I shan't lose both my parents to the will of the Empire."
Aeryn bowed once more and made her exit, leaving Amynus alone with his thoughts. Or rather, just one thought.
His hands curled into tight fists with a single, new-found desire that burned in the pit of his stomach:
Revenge.
* * *