A Dance of Shadows (The Royal Spares #3)

Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Aurelia

I wouldn’t have thought it was possible, but Santia looks even more beautiful at night. The amber light of floating lanterns beams off the white-washed buildings around the square and all the way up the hill to the palace. More shine over the nearby sea, reflected in the shallow waves as if there are stars glowing under the water.

Beyond the ring of soldiers guarding both Darium and Rionian nobles, the common folk appear to have set aside any trauma from my husband’s challenge. They brandish bits of roasted barama meat from the several spits now set up along the beach and sway with the melodies played by the local musicians Queen Anahi summoned to entertain us.

There’s a lighter, swooping quality to the Rionian musical style that reminds me of the wind warbling over the ocean waves. Does Lorenzo ever play the songs of his homeland?

He wouldn’t have had much time to learn them before he was taken away.

I’d like to seek him out, tuck myself into his arms, and let his embrace melt away the worst of today’s horrors. The best we could manage was a brief nod after the celebrations moved back into the square, with a hasty sign from the prince to tell me he’s all right.

I wish I could totally believe that claim. How can any of the Rionian royals feel fine about what happened here this afternoon?

Seven civilians were lost beneath the waves, five to the barama’s jaws and the other two swimming past the point of exhaustion and simply drowning. Many more had to be taken aside by the local medics to ensure their wounds result in as little permanent damage as possible. Streaks of blood still darken the beach.

While my husband is occupied in some jest with a couple of his marchion friends, I take the moment to sidle toward the Rionian queen and king. Queen Anahi and King Emilio are watching the revelry around them with subdued expressions. I’ve noticed they’ve barely eaten, only making a show of taking a few bites here and there when Linus is nearby.

I dip my head respectfully and offer a soft smile that I hope conveys the sympathies I can’t voice out loud. “Your people’s hospitality is impressive. As is your dedication to them, joining the challenge alongside them.”

Queen Anahi pushes her lips into a smile of her own, but her dark eyes remain cool. “That’s the sort of ruler they deserve. I believe I owe it to them to serve them as much as they serve us.”

A pang of connection runs through my heart. “I’ve always seen it the same way myself.”

I can’t help thinking her answering gaze looks more skeptical than anything else. How could I convince her of my intentions?

It isn’t as if I can admit to everything I’ve already done—all the crimes I’ve committed against the empire—to protect the kingdom and the people I left behind.

“We’re pleased to serve Your Imperial Eminences as well,” King Emilio puts in with a lower bob of his head than I offered him and his wife. A muscle in his cheek ticks as if he’s nervous of my reaction.

You don’t have anything to worry about , I try to convey without words. I’m on your side far more than Marclinus’s.

But as I grope for a way to make a clearer show of compassion without treading into mutinous territory, my husband makes it appear a lie. Linus sweeps in, slinging his arm around my back, and grins at the Rionian royals. “I’d have a dance, wife, if I’m not interrupting anything.”

His tone doesn’t suggest he’s open to me denying him. I turn my polite smile on him. “I’d be delighted.”

As we step and pivot with the airy tune, my gut twists. I’ve been prepared for retribution for my intervening on the beach all evening, and the suspense is gnawing at me.

I do think Linus is peeved with me. There’s a hard glint in his eyes that unsettles me, and he grips my hands just hard enough to hurt.

He doesn’t voice his displeasure, though. He makes several harshly amused jokes about the Rionian nobles—the shape of this one’s nose, the design of that one’s hat—and releases me at the end of the song.

A baron approaches to offer me another dance and halts at my husband’s narrowed eyes.

Linus clicks his tongue at the other man. “My wife delights in our people, but be sure you’re careful about where you put that gaze and those hands.”

So kind of him to set my boundaries for me.

The baron looks as if he’d rather swallow his own tongue than dance with me now, but he can hardly admit to being terrified of his emperor. He slips his hand around mine so tentatively my fingers nearly fall from his when he raises them and keeps an awkward distance between us for the short time we’re engaged.

When he lets me go, my gaze snags on Raul’s across the gathering. He cocks his eyebrow in a subtle question, and I turn away in answer.

If my husband is being especially critical of anyone who shows the slightest interest in me, the last people I want to bring his hostility down on are my actual lovers. Especially when he’s been so quick to punish them for invented transgressions in the past.

Bianca joins me, sparing me from having to think about dancing with anyone at all. She offers one of the goblets of wine she’s brought over and gives an amused roll of her eyes when my taster darts over to sample it before I drink.

“Our emperor is really looking to make his mark with this tour, isn’t he?” she says. “Now I’m even more glad I’m here to see it.”

I peer at her sideways, trying to decipher her typical arch tone. Is she being earnest or was that understated sarcasm?

I don’t imagine the vicerine cares all that much about the people of Rione… but that doesn’t mean she enjoyed watching them suffer either.

I can only answer as if she was being fully serious—and as if I agree with her sentiments. “I suppose it’s important to him to make a statement at the start of his reign. Set the tone for all future relations, with the empire as everyone’s foremost concern.”

“Indeed. The incorporating of the local mythology was quite clever.”

“How lovely to be appreciated.” Linus appears behind us with a teasing flick of my hair. “I’ll take gossip if it’s all about my virtues.”

Bianca bats her eyelashes at him in a gesture I think might be instinctive at this point. “And you have so many of them, Your Imperial Majesty.”

“Hmm.” My husband looks oddly unconvinced by his often-time lover’s flirtation. Is he objecting to even her paying attention to me now?

His head swivels until he catches sight of Lorenzo in the crowd. “I think the entertainment has had a Rionian flavor for too long. Our resident prince can show his countryfolk how it’s done in Dariu!”

He waves to Lorenzo, the motion punctuated by a snap of his fingers. “Someone fetch a vielle or what have you for Prince Lorenzo. I want to hear that gift of yours. Remind us of home.”

I can tell the prince has stifled a grimace. He accepts the instrument a page rushes to his arms. With another shout, Linus quiets the local musicians so all attention is on his foster brother.

He’s yanking on Lorenzo’s strings as if he were a puppet. Showing off how he can command the Rionian royal in his court.

I fight to keep my jaw from clenching.

As a Darium tune spills into the evening air with the heavenly tones Lorenzo adds with his gift, Linus hooks his hand around my elbow and tugs me away from Bianca. Before he’s taken more than a few steps, High Commander Axius and Counsel Etta—the other advisor who joined the coronation tour—approach us.

Neither of the advisors’ expressions look celebratory. Axius appears particularly grim. “Your Imperial Majesty, I was hoping we could find a moment to speak as soon as possible.”

Linus rolls his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re peeved that I didn’t lay out every detail of the day for you beforehand. It went fantastically, didn’t it?”

Etta’s face manages to turn even more pinched. “It’s simply—if you have any other diversions in mind?—”

Linus cuts her off with a scoffing sound and yanks at my arm again. “I’ll do as I please, and you’ll be happy about it. Now I’d like to have some time with my wife.”

As he ushers me past them, Axius catches my gaze with a brief dip of his head. “You both made quite an impact today,” he says.

Is he complimenting my contributions as well?

Linus’s fingers clamp harder around my elbow. He pulls me onward, speaking to me rather than the high commander. “I think you’ve celebrated enough, wife. I’ve called one of the carriages around so we can return to the palace.”

My stomach sinks, but I fix my smile in place. “I am rather tired from all of today’s events.”

I set my hand on my belly in the hopes of reminding him of one very important reason I have to be fatigued. Linus’s gaze flicks after the gesture, but his eyes only harden.

Maybe he doesn’t enjoy switching off with his twin either. Maybe he’d rather have found out my child was the result of straying than believing it’s his brother’s. That his heir still isn’t really his, but that he’ll have to accept it as legitimate.

I walk with Linus to the carriage obediently. As I clamber inside, my gaze catches on lantern-light gleaming off white-blond hair farther down the road.

A tall, slightly gangly form I think is Prince Neven’s is just slipping through a temple doorway there. I peer out the window as the carriage glides past and note Sabrelle’s sigil over the doorway.

Is the youngest prince making appeals to his patron godlen? Has she been harassing him with demanding dreams again, making him feel as if he still isn’t contributing enough?

Or perhaps his inability to stop today’s chaos has gotten under his skin.

I can’t express my concerns to my sole companion. Linus shifts restlessly on the bench across from me, aiming more sharp grins my way but saying little. If anything, his reticence makes me more nervous than if he was chatting away.

At the imperial palace building, Linus escorts me straight to my chambers with his hand resting on my ass. He gives me an extra shove as we step over the threshold, one that has me stumbling on the polished floor beyond the view of my guards.

My husband kicks the door shut behind us with a thud. He stalks closer to me, his chin raised imperiously high.

“What were you thinking, dashing off into the masses like a common medic?” he demands. “Not even a medic—one of those folk healers who doesn’t even have a gift for it.”

I ignore the shiver that prickles under my skin. “I thought we were encouraging the people to compare us to the godlen. I was honoring what Elox would have done in the same situation. Even the Rionian royals?—”

Linus slices his hand through the air to cut me off. “That mockery of a royal family barely rules in anything other than name. You’re the empress. You interfered with my demonstration!”

I lower my head, suppressing the urge to fully cringe. “I didn’t see it as interfering but enhancing. It was never my intention to undermine the spectacle you created.”

“You don’t even know what you’ve done.” He lets out a bark of a laugh and starts to pace in a tight circuit. “You’ve shown such generosity to the Rionian people. We can’t have them thinking they’re specially favored. We’ll need to find a display of good will for you to carry out in all of the countries on our tour.”

I can’t see how anyone from those other countries is likely to find out what I did in Rione, or the Rionians find out what happened elsewhere, but it doesn’t seem wise to mention that fact. Besides, if Linus has decided I should show off my generosity to all our conquered kingdoms, that works in my favor even more than I could have hoped.

“I hadn’t thought things through that far,” I say meekly. “I’ll do whatever you see fit to ensure fairness throughout the empire.”

Linus hums to himself, his typical smirk creeping across his lips as if he’s suddenly amused by the thought rather than angry. The shiver travels straight through my gut this time.

Gods only know what torments he’ll devise for me. This is exactly the sort of thing Marc warned me about.

But I’ve endured plenty of torture at this man’s—and his twin’s—hands before. I can withstand more.

Until he’s exactly where I need him to be.

The more I play the lamb with him, the less he’ll expect it when I let loose the wolf.

Linus steps closer to me again and grasps my chin. He pins me with his gaze. “What did the queen and king say to you?”

What does he imagine they would have dared to?

I manage to keep my voice even despite the unsettling pressure of his fingers. “Nothing much. Only how happy they were to serve us.”

My husband guffaws. “Be careful with them. They’ll try to get in your head if they see the chance. Addle your loyalties. All of them always think they deserve their power back, as if they’d know what to do with their kingdoms without us to guide them.”

He thinks the Rionian royals are looking to win me over? I swallow a laugh. He has no idea how turned around he has the situation.

“I’d have no interest in any silly stories they’d offer,” I reassure him.

“Good.” He nudges me backward, his hand sliding to my neck. His fingers squeeze just hard enough make my pulse hiccup with the brief sense of choking. “You’re my empress. My wife. Only mine . And I expect you to serve me like you remember that.”

Without warning, he drops his grasp and wrenches the fragile fabric of my gown right down the middle. As the thin silk slips from my limbs, I tense my arms against the urge to snatch after it.

“You don’t need this.” Linus tears the rest of the dress off me. “I’ll have you wearing just one gown until it’s rags if that’s what I decide I’d like.”

He could easily accomplish that, given my limited travel wardrobe. I swallow thickly and adjust my ring before stroking my hand over his as if in affection. “Yes, husband. I’m yours.”

“That’s right.” Linus pushes me to the edge of the bed and then shoves me downward. My knees hit the floor.

Great God help me, how long will it take for the drug to kick in?

Thankfully, Linus wants to revel in my humble position. He slides his fingers back and forth over my hair. The pins plink against the floor as the waves tumble to my shoulders.

Then he pats my cheek with the fiercest grin he’s offered me tonight. “What do you think of me like this, wife? Is this not the husband you always want?”

His phrasing sends a lance of ice right down the middle of me.

He could simply be referring to his behavior, which is even more aggressive than usual. Or he could know I know there’s another husband altogether who’s never treated me like this.

It’s a good thing my temper is too honed to be provoked by his goading, if that’s what it is. “Always. I only hope I can please you.”

“Well, then, serve me. You know what to do from here.”

With a coy smile, I reach for his trousers. I make a show of stroking his thighs through the fabric before I get around to unfastening them. I ease them down slowly with even more caresses, as if I’m simply building anticipation for the act.

When I lick my lips, Linus’s leering smirk only grows. “I’m going to fuck your pretty face until your throat aches.”

He’s lucky I don’t vomit on his fancy shoes at that remark.

I tug at his drawers as slowly as I feel I can get away with, my heart thudding faster. If the potion doesn’t take effect soon?—

All at once, Linus’s posture slouches. I manage to push him toward the bed quickly enough that he sags over on the mattress rather than the floor.

Good, because I don’t think I could have hauled him up there once he’s fallen.

I carry out my act of feigned intimacy while his eyes glaze over and his hands flex in the air. When he falls into his final snoring stupor, I sit back on the bedcovers with a slump of my own shoulders.

Linus has always been a terror, and he’s only getting worse. He’s inflicting his sadistic arrogance and paranoia on the countries that’ve suffered so much under the empire already.

And here he is worrying about the local royals corrupting my loyalty when I already want nothing more than a way to murder him.

I pause, my gaze lingering on Linus’s slack but still horribly handsome face.

His paranoia isn’t totally wrong. I am carrying a child who isn’t really his heir, in any way. I have dallied with other men.

I can’t be corrupted when I already am. I gave up on working with the man in my bed months ago.

But there’s another man in the equation now. Marc has listened to me a little. He’s softened to me at least slightly. He cares about the child I’m carrying that he believes is his.

My heart thumps faster. What if it doesn’t matter whether he’s trying to rope me into a murder plot against his twin as another test? It doesn’t matter whether I trust his motives, whether Linus is in on the scheme or not.

Not if I can turn the faith he’s supposedly offered me into something absolutely real.

Can I steal any lingering loyalty Marc does still feel for his brother? Capture his affections so thoroughly that he wants to spare me from the violence rather than drawing me into the crime?

Make him feel the only right thing he can do for both the empire and his wife is get rid of his twin all by himself, without me needing to implicate myself in the slightest.

The blood will all be on his hands. And once he trusts me enough to sacrifice his twin without my complicity, it shouldn’t be hard at all to maneuver myself into a position to eliminate him in turn.

I’m not sure I can tackle two husbands standing in my way. But pitting them against each other might diffuse the threat to almost nothing at all.

The idea unfurls through my head, so swift and vivid it takes my breath away.

I’ve set out to conquer the hearts of three princes who were determined to hate me, a country that saw me as an interloper and an ill omen, and all the kingdoms my new home has terrorized. Conquering one half of my husband feels like a more immense challenge than all of those combined.

So I’ll bring everything I can to that fight—because if I can’t win Marc over, I suspect I’ll die trying.