Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Aurelia
A s we walk with the court toward the hall of entertainments, my husband takes my arm with a gentle tug. I’m struck by a desire I never thought I’d feel: the hope that he’s finally pulling me aside for a romp in my bedroom.
Of course, it’s no carnal hunger to experience his intimate attentions. I simply want the chance to settle the largest matter that’s been weighing on me. Over the past few days as the celebrations in the capital have wound down, Marclinus hasn’t once initiated an encounter that would give me an opportunity to distinguish one man from the other.
If there are in fact two.
As much as I’d like to resolve the gnawing uncertainty, I’m not surprised when instead he draws me down the hall toward the strategy room where we discussed the coming confirmation rites a couple of months ago. He’s been in his more subdued Marc temperament for most of the day. From what he told me, it’s only ever been Linus who dragged me to my bedroom in the past.
The two times the man who claims he’s Marc thinks he slept with me, I invited him into my chambers, to make sure the timing lined up with my actual interludes with Bastien.
My boldness has been so rare and the current circumstances are so fraught, being so forward again might raise new suspicions. If my husband neglects that side of his duties for much longer, though, I may take the risk and haul him off to bed myself.
But this excursion could lead to other sorts of useful information.
Marclinus ushers me into the strategy room with its vast enchanted table. His four chief advisors stand around it already. I suppose he always ensures they arrive first so His Imperial Majesty never has to wait for anyone.
My husband taps the table’s surface to summon the map of his empire. As the magical image gleams into view, he rubs his hands together. “All right. Our imperial tour. We should get on with that, shouldn’t we?”
The tour of the continent—he mentioned that to me briefly when we were nearly through the confirmation rites. The new emperor needs to visit all of his conquered countries to collect their pledges of allegiance.
A tingle of anticipation passes through my veins. Through my own efforts and those of my beloved princes, I’ve won a lot of good will from the people of Dariu, my new home country. Representatives of the common folk presented me with an honorary crown as a symbol of their faith in me.
They’re only one piece of the larger picture, though. I’ll need to work with the people of all the kingdoms under the empire if I’m going to change its awful practices.
Counsel Severo clears his throat. “There’s no need to rush, Your Imperial Majesty. Past emperors have sometimes waited a year or two before their official coronation tour.”
Counsel Etta pipes up in a firmer tone. “If we follow the typical route, we’d need to leave soon and move fairly quickly to be out of the north before the winter storms set in.”
“Then we’ll leave soon and move quickly.” Marclinus studies the map, his mouth tightening when his gaze lands on Lavira. “The outer countries have already shown more unrest than I’m comfortable with. We need all the empire’s people to see their local rulers submitting to my authority before any more tensions arise.”
He doesn’t mention the other facet of the tour: announcing the coming arrival of his heir and demanding pledges of loyalty to my unborn child as well. We’ll want to be back in Vivencia well before the child is due to ensure his supposed son or daughter is born on Darium soil.
I’ll want to be back, to ensure my baby comes into the world with all the support I can offer him or her.
But we haven’t announced my pregnancy at all so far. It seemed wisest to let my husband decide when the time was right.
In his usual spot across the table from us, High Commander Axius tips his grizzled head in acknowledgment. “We’ll want to see that you’re well defended on the journey in case of additional hostilities. Now that the uprising has been put down, Tribune Valerisse sent some of her most trusted soldiers from Lavira to join your imperial guard.”
“Excellent.” Marclinus motions to the map. “We’ll start in Rione?”
Etta nods. “The usual route is from capital to capital, Rione to Cotea to Lavira to Accasy to Goric before returning home. We could adjust the course to place Accasy ahead of Lavira to further avoid the winter there, but that would require more backtracking?—”
Marclinus cuts her off with a shake of his head. “I want to visit Lavira as soon as makes sense. I’d go there first if it wasn’t in the damned middle of everything.”
My heart beats faster at the thought of returning home. Imagining keeping up this pretense of a marriage in front of my family and friends sets my stomach off-kilter, but the comfort of their presence might be worth it.
My husband rubs his jaw. “I think we should be able to complete the preparations for the tour quickly enough. It’s reasonable to only linger in each capital for a few weeks. That should give us plenty of time to complete the circuit while avoiding the worst weather.”
He pauses and glances at me with a pensive air. “Do you think a week and a half would be enough time for you to make ready, wife?”
I thought he’d forgotten I was in the room. I certainly didn’t expect him to ask my opinion—but I suppose he’s more concerned about how the child inside me will fare than my own well-being.
“I don’t think that should be any trouble,” I say agreeably. The sooner we leave, the sooner I can begin earning the loyalty of all the empire’s subjects.
His advisors all look a little taken aback by his consideration. Cleric Pierus rouses himself first with a twitch of his sweeping robes. “I’ll reach out to my colleagues at the local temples so they can have everything in order for your arrival.”
Severo jerks his slim frame even taller. “Yes, there is much to see to.”
The two of them and Etta hustle out of the room. Axius ambles around the table toward us at a more measured pace. “We’ll want to keep the convoy relatively small, but I think it would be best if I accompany you, Your Imperial Eminences.” The flick of his firm gaze briefly includes me as well as my husband. “I’d prefer to be able to oversee your protection personally while you’re beyond Dariu’s borders.”
Despite his seemingly respectful acknowledgement, my skin tightens at his nearness. The burly military advisor has always appeared skeptical of my ability to take on a more prominent role in the ruling of the empire. I don’t relish the idea of him hovering over us even more closely than usual while we’re on this journey.
I can hardly claim the capital city needs his protection more during this peaceful time. So while Marclinus claps the high commander on the arm and thanks him for his dedication, all I can do is remain quiet.
Quiet and thoughtful. Is Axius one of the obstacles my princes and I will need to remove from court before I can safely ascend?
If so, it’s possible the tour will provide us with the perfect opportunity. I’ll have to see how well his supposed respect holds up under the stress of traveling beyond Dariu’s borders.
As we head back to the hall of entertainments, my husband takes my arm again. He leans close to speak in a conspiratorial murmur. “As Axius noted, we’ll need to limit how much of our court travels with us abroad. My foster brothers will join us by necessity since we’re visiting their home countries, and I have a number of others in mind. But if you have any preferences among our noble companions, I’ll take that into consideration.”
Another shiver of possibility passes through me. For several months, I’ll be surrounded by the nobles Marclinus values most.
I’ll have to take every chance I can get to solidify my place in that inner circle… and remove anyone who resents my presence.
And he’s letting me choose an inner circle of my own to support me on that journey. Who of the imperial court would I actually want by my side while we’re traipsing across the continent?
When we enter the long room, I cast my gaze over the gathered nobles. For all their politeness to my face, I’ve picked up hints that at least a few still hold some animosity over the daughters and friends my husband and his father executed during their trials, as if it’s my fault the imperial family came up with their bloody tests.
Is there a single person in this room I could consider a friend?
My attention settles on a head of gleaming black hair at one of the cards tables. Vicerine Bianca is covering a giggle at one of her neighbor’s jokes, her smooth brown skin looking as polished and her poise as elegant as always.
She was one of my fiercest enemies during the trials… but she’s proven to be a useful ally since then. She at least has recognized that Marclinus’s intentions are totally separate from my own.
And she’s also one of his favorite mistresses, so she may divert some of the attentions I’d generally rather not entertain. Although the thought gives me a pinch of guilt when she’s confided to me that she doesn’t take any pleasure from their more intimate encounters.
Well, it’s up to her to decide how far she’ll indulge him. Knowing her typical attitudes, I suspect she’d be eager for the honor of an invitation regardless of the rest.
Presumably that means we’ll have to invite her grim husband, Viceroy Ennius, along as well, but then I can keep a closer eye on him and make sure he’s not taking his jealousy out on her too severely.
There are a few other noblewomen I haven’t had any uncomfortable interactions with. Baronissas Damina and Hivette only have eyes for each other, so there’s no umbrage from them over an outsider taking Marclinus’s hand. And Marchionissa Lucrene may be more than twice my age, but she’s seemed to hold herself mostly above the court dramatics.
I mention those four names to Marclinus without lingering on any of them. I catch a tick of his eyebrow upward at Bianca, but he doesn’t remark on my choice.
My gaze snags next on a strapping frame topped with white-blond hair. Prince Neven, the youngest of the foster princes, is peering at the crowd with a trace of uneasiness on his tanned face. The teenager catches my gaze only for a second, and he’s at least wise enough to look elsewhere before he offers a slight nod and an upward curve of his lips.
He has far less reason to be invested in my fate than his older foster brothers, but he’s thrown himself into the fray on my behalf all the same. Perhaps I can repay him in some small form.
I glance toward the cluster of four musicians filling the room with a lively tune. “I don’t suppose we could bring along a little entertainment for the long stretches on the road? Maybe just a couple of the court musicians?”
Particularly the harpist I know Neven has been carrying out a flirtation with. Why shouldn’t he get to have a little fun during our months away, if he’d like to?
My husband hums. “Boredom makes for restless companions. I think we could manage it. Although Prince Lorenzo can always offer the benefit of his gift as well.”
He looks toward the prince of Rione, who I’ve been pretending not to notice watching a nearby darts game, and back at me. “I know there’ve been some tensions between you and my foster brothers, and certain events may have… worsened the situation. But they are still meant to serve us. I’ll see that they offer you whatever insights they can about the countries of their birth and their ruling families, if you can tolerate the conversations.”
My lovers and I have pretended total indifference—if not outright dislike—toward each other as blatantly as possible over the past few months, to avoid feeding into Marclinus’s apparent suspicions. It sounds as if he finally believes we care little for each other.
I stifle the skip of my pulse at the opportunity to spend more time with the men I love and offer the reluctance he clearly expects. “I suppose it wouldn’t be too unpleasant when it’s for the sake of handling our visits as well as possible.”
Marclinus raises his hand in a beckoning motion. “Your Highness of Rione!” he calls with a slight mocking lilt. “A word?”
Lorenzo’s head ticks toward us. Keeping his expression carefully impassive, he moves to join us, with a slight bow as if to say he’s at our service.
I watch my husband’s face as he aims a sardonic smile at the mute prince, but I don’t see any hint of jealousy or wariness in his demeanor, only disdain.
“You have ways of communicating—writing on your papers and what have you,” Marclinus says. “We’ll be leaving for our tour of the continent soon, and Rione will be our first stop. I’m going to arrange a few meetings between you and the empress so you can answer every question she has about your country and your family. I trust that won’t be a problem?”
Lorenzo shakes his head and then dips down again, bowing to Marclinus and then specifically to me. He’s canny enough to tense his mouth when he’s facing me as if it pains him a little to give me that honor.
But by his side, the subtle curve of his fingers conveys a different message for my eyes only. I’m yours.
I swallow against the ache of affection that simple gesture provokes.
“Good. I’ll give you some time to think of everything it might be useful for you to impart before we begin.” Marclinus waves the prince away like he might one of the servants.
Behind my demure smile, I grit my teeth. Whether he’s one man or two, there’s no version of my husband who isn’t an asshole.
My mind is spinning with all the information I’ve already taken in over the past hour. I soften my smile and touch my husband’s arm with feigned tenderness. “I think I should begin my own preparations now. I’d like to meditate in the temple to see if my godlen has any guidance relating to the tour. Do you think the court would miss me overly if I’m gone for an hour or two?”
Marclinus chuckles. “I’m sure they’ll survive. I would certainly like to see you at dinner, but you’re allowed some time for your own concerns.”
He rests his hand on my shoulder just for a moment, with a caress of his thumb I have to pretend doesn’t leave my skin crawling. He’s trying to prove he’s the nice one, the one I can trust enough to join in on a murder scheme.
It’s all to serve his own purposes, not because of any real compassion he feels toward me.
I don’t release my shudder until I’ve slipped out of the room. Then I set off for the temple attached to the palace with the faint rap of my personal guards’ feet following me at a discreet distance.
Beneath the now-familiar dome with its bands of color representing each of the nine lesser gods and the Great God who once watched over us too, I walk to Elox’s alcove. His serene sculpture gazes down at me with its blank gold stare.
I sink down onto the white pillow in front of him. Closing my eyes, I tap my fingers down my front in the gesture of the divinities, finishing by clenching them over the godlen brand that marks the middle of my chest.
I can’t say what I want to ask out loud while my guards watch from the entrance, but I’ve always been able to address my godlen from inside my head just fine.
Elox, I’ve solidified my position as empress in every way possible so far. I’m about to go on my first tour of the kingdoms I most want to protect. How should I handle this journey and my marriage with its new complications?
As I settle into my meditative state, my breaths even out. A vision drifts into my head like a dream.
I’m peering along a weathered wooden fence, sheep grazing in the pasture within. When my attention catches on a broken board, it lifts and melds back into place. The stinging nettle sprouting amid the grass vanishes. The rust on the gate’s hinges shimmers away. But the fence remains.
The imagery fades. I sit with it for a little longer, contemplating my godlen’s message.
The structure is there, but it needs repairing. Fix what’s broken and remove what causes pain within the boundaries I’ve been given.
I can do that. And it’ll be easier with the help of the local royals we’ll soon be visiting.
I need to show each of the empire’s conquered countries that I’ll look out for them and heal their ills—without disrupting the status quo so much it raises my husband’s alarm. The princes who’ve welcomed me into their makeshift family should be able to help me with those of their birth.
And at the end of our travels, perhaps I can pluck Marclinus from my life as swiftly as Elox dismissed that stinging weed.