Wielder

Chapter 29 - Rebirth

It was over.

The emperor knew she was there. The element of surprise had been lost. He'd announced her presence to all of his court; there would be no chance of requesting a private audience, now. She hadn't even made her move, and already he was humiliating her. Already he was showing how she broke the rules to get what she wanted, by hiding herself among them like a criminal.

Shame and hopelessness thickened her throat. She fought her rising emotion, blinking furiously as the room grew louder and louder with the rising speculation of the nobles. It wasn't fair. She had planned everything so well! Why couldn't it have just gone to plan?

Anger, hot and heavy and boiling, flushed her face red. She clenched her teeth tight and curled her hands into fists. She wouldn't let the emperor defeat her. Maybe he had made his move before she could, but the fight was only just beginning. She hadn't lost yet.

She spotted Michael out of the corner of her eye. He stared at her wide-eyed, and firmly, though inconspicuously, shook his head. Run, his body language urged her. Get out before he decides to kill you.

Darrel, she noticed, looked about ready to pass out. He had turned as pale as the clouds hovering in the sky just outside the window.

She took a deep, hot breath and blew it out through her nose. A mere thought caused golden shimmers to flow across her body. In an instant, her disguise was shed. She lifted her chin high. She would not run away. She would not cower in fear. She would meet the emperor's challenge head on, and show that she was worthy of being called the Ultimate Wielder.

She moved away from the wall. At first, she went unnoticed. She had to softly murmur "Excuse me," a few times to the nobles before they finally noticed her. But when they did, they parted from her as if she had an infection they were afraid of catching. The sea of rich, colorful robes and gowns split right down the middle, giving her a wide pathway straight to the platform at the front of the room.

And straight to the emperor, who stood waiting.

Her anger simmered down as she met the emperor's gaze. She could tell he held back his power. It was like a building wave, rolling behind him tighter and tighter, just waiting to burst.

She moved across the black carpet of his throne room slowly. With each step, she felt smaller and smaller. There were so many eyes on her. So many faces hiding behind hands and fans and stunned expressions. So much criticism. So much scorn.

She dared not look at the nobles, knowing that if she did, she might flinch. It took everything she had just to make it to the other end of the carpet.

She stopped at the carpet's edge. Her feet refused to carry her any further. It was as if the emperor's power instructed her to halt, and she had no choice but to obey.

She felt like a rabbit in a cage. Trying to ignore the hundreds of eyes upon her, she focused on pulling fresh air into her lungs and keep her heartrate steady.

Just for a moment, her gaze flicked to Commander Sole. He was seething. The emperor must have told him not to attack her. For every bit of his rage, every taught muscle in his body, told her that he wanted to tear her apart very, very slowly.

The emperor's eyes were as red as the commander's, though they were much softer toward her. He didn't fear her, or hate her, or find her disgusting. In fact, he seemed to find her amusing. The corner of his lips curled just the slightest bit, and there was a gleam in his gaze that grew the longer he stared at her.

When he spoke, his voice no longer held the thunderous boom of before. "At last, we meet," he greeted warmly. "Roger's told me so much about you."

Alie's gaze flicked back to the commander. He bared his teeth at her in warning.