A Dance of Shadows (The Royal Spares #3)

Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Aurelia

I dip my head to Queen Anahi respectfully as we wait in the front courtyard for the imperial procession to finish assembling. “Thank you again for your generous hospitality. I hope I can extend the same to you before too long.”

The queen of Rione’s typical subdued smile gives me no indication that I’ve endeared myself to her. “I’m glad we could make your time in our country enjoyable.”

I grope for one last remark that might sway her in my favor and settle on the most honest thing I can say. “I wish we could have stayed longer so I could have gotten to know your family, your people, and your country better. It’s important to me to fully consider every kingdom that contributes to our empire.”

Her smile remains unchanged. “And we are happy to contribute however we’re called to.”

That’s not what I was getting at, I grouse in my head, but I can’t state my commitment to the outer territories any more baldly without sounding dangerously close to treason. Especially when my husband has just joined us, slipping his hand around my arm with a painfully possessive squeeze.

Just that gesture is enough to tell me I’m dealing with Linus today.

He grins broadly at Queen Anahi and her husband. “Such an excellent visit with so many good times for all! I’m pleased by your people’s devotion to the empire, Your Highness. Make sure it never fades.”

The last words should be part of the compliment, but instead they sound like a warning.

Queen Anahi maintains her control, nodding without so much as a twitch of her expression, though I suspect she must be screaming at him inside. I’d like to punch him for his remarks after the awful trial he put her people through, and this isn’t even my kingdom.

To show I don’t entirely agree with his stance, I turn to him with a brush of my fingers over his hand. “I’m sure we don’t need to worry about that.”

Linus simply clicks his tongue at me. “Ah, you have much more to learn about the running of an empire, wife.”

How about punching him and then kneeing him in the balls?

Instead, I form a smile as sunny as I can make it. “Very true, so I learn from every example of rulership I can. Queen Anahi and King Emilio have given such an excellent demonstration of how to guide a kingdom in both happiness and security. I’m sure they were inspired to rise to the occasion by your presence, of course.”

The twitch of annoyance that’d started to cross my husband’s face smooths out at my final compliment. “Naturally.”

When I look at Queen Anahi again, there’s something thoughtful showing through her normally implacable expression. “A high compliment all the same,” she says—and is that a trace of warmth in her voice after all? “I look forward to seeing how else we might be inspired by each other.”

It’s only the vaguest of enthusiasm, but the fact that she’s shown any sends a tiny thrill through me. Perhaps I have won a little ground here with the cautious queen.

The imperial carriage draws up right in front of us. I lift my hand in farewell. “I’ll remember our conversations.”

And I hope she will too, with more fondness than she showed up until now.

As my husband and I travel through the streets down to the harbor, we keep the curtains drawn well back. Linus extends his arm right out the window as he waves to the spectators who’ve gathered along the sides of the road.

Listening to their cheers, I can’t help wondering how many of them are actually celebrating our visit rather than reveling in the fact that we’re leaving.

As on the day of our arrival, the large square by the harbor is absolutely swarmed. Our convoy of carriages rattles along the edge of the square and comes to a stop so the emperor can address the crowd once more.

I step out at Marclinus’s side. We stay perched on the ledge just outside the carriage door, raised above the ground where more of our audience can see us.

Our guards and the soldiers of the convoy form a barrier in front of us. I spot more figures in imperial indigo and many in the black-and-white uniforms of regular soldiers all around the fringes of the square. A few weave into the crowd, their heads turning to scan the spectators.

Marclinus offers a final exuberant wave. “Thank you again for your zealous welcome, citizens of Rione! You’ve been a credit to the empire. The rest of our territories will find you a difficult act to follow.”

A shiver travels down my back. Gods help me, what is he planning for the other conquered countries?

It’s bad enough when he orders their hostage princes to perform in his court. Now he’s demanding a performance of the entire kingdom.

As the chill seeps right into my bones, a shout that isn’t celebratory breaks through the cheers. My gaze catches on a few young men jostling against each other farther off in the crowd.

One shoves another. A third smacks the second across the head. As they continue yelling at each other, the spectators around them shuffle back as far as they can get in the packed space.

There’s only one soldier nearby, her stance gone rigid in her skeletal uniform. She glances around with a hasty swivel of her head, but her patrol has taken her well away from her colleagues.

One of the retreating locals bumps his elbow against her. Another stumbles and nearly backs right into the soldier. Her frown spasms into a tight grimace.

Just as the first man pushes the second again, she springs forward with a shout of her own.

Her sword flashes through the air, and my heart leaps to my throat. Before my instinctive cry of protest can burst out, she’s already bashed the flat of the sword across the first man’s temple.

He sways and slumps toward the other nearby spectators. The second man spins around with a startled yelp and a defensive jerk of his hand—and the soldier plunges her sword straight into his chest.

My cry dies in my constricting lungs.

The man crumples. The soldier yanks her blade free, the steel smeared with scarlet. I can’t see the body amid the crowd, but everyone close by has gone still and silent.

She killed him. He wasn’t even attacking her, only startled, and she cut him down just like that.

A vision flares before my eyes, with a glowing haze that tells me it’s not quite real. The figures in the square swirl and shift into knots of commoners each surrounding a single soldier. The city folk bunch and churn, and the soldiers spin with an arc of their shining swords.

Blood splatters the cobblestones. A scarlet wave sweeps through the square, toppling every figure in its wake.

I blink, and only a reddish sheen remains over the scene that lay before me to begin with. My heart thuds heavy against my ribs.

My gaze slides along our line of carriages and snags on the youngest foster prince’s face.

In that brief glimpse, Neven is watching me, his mouth twisted at an uncomfortable angle. When our eyes meet, he jerks his head farther back from the window.

Why was he staring at me like that? Or was it actually my husband he was watching?

“It’s all over!” Linus is hollering from beside me, with a salute to the soldier who ended the fight. “We’re back to order. Let’s see no more violence—this is a time for making merry, not fighting!”

Right. Because an argument with a little shoving isn’t acceptable, but stabbing a man in the heart is a totally reasonable response.

Just one more way what’s good for Dariu isn’t so wonderful for the rest of the empire.

My husband tugs me back into the carriage. He brushes his hands together with a huff. “Pathetic louts, all of them.”

I bite back the words I’d like to snap at him. They’d only cause more harm, one way or another. I can’t bring back the life that was just lost.

But perhaps I can see to shortening his . I roll the words in my mouth before deciding on the best ones. “It’s always a pleasure to see you taking command so forcefully. The soldiers obviously admire your approach as well.”

Linus’s sharp grin comes back. Yes, let his arrogance grow.

Let him spout off more bold, brutal words to his twin and set them more at odds.

Despite the minor victory, the vision that came to me simmers in my memory for the last short distance to our ship. Every time I blink, flashes of the scarlet flood flicker through my sight.

I’m missing something. What was Elox trying to tell me? Was he warning me of more violence to come?

The people of Rione couldn’t surround so many soldiers the way they did in the vision—the imperial forces are rarely alone.

The horses draw the carriage right onto the transport boat. As the workers secure them to ensure they’re steady for the journey, Linus and I emerge onto the deck.

The crowd we left behind appears to have recovered their spirits. More cheers rise up from the now-distant square at their glimpse of the emperor at the stern of the boat.

I hang farther back, my stomach churning with the first lurch of the boat forward. As I rub my temple, clutching the railing with my other hand in case I need to expel my breakfast into the sea, Bastien ambles up next to me.

He holds his expression carefully stiff, as if he’s carrying out a task he dislikes, but the twist of his hand at his side conveys sympathy.

“I suppose I should ensure you’ll be fully prepared for what you’ll find in Cotea,” he says for the benefit of my guards, who are watching from near the carriage. “There’s little enough else to do right now.”

I make my own smile tense. “True enough. It would be interesting to know how your home country compares to Rione.”

The boat pushes farther from the dock with a surge of magical propulsion. The deck sways beneath my feet, but I’m grateful for the warble of the wind in the sails and the hiss of the hull cutting through the waves to disguise our voices.

Bastien leans back against the railing, folding his arms over his chest to continue the impression that he isn’t all that interested in the conversation. His eyes scan the deck for any guards or nobles who might wander close.

He drops his voice lower so only I can hear it. “I hope we won’t see any scenes like that sudden slaughter in Cotea, but I don’t think we can count on it.”

I grimace. “I don’t even understand. The civilians didn’t engage with the soldier at all. They were only arguing with each other.”

Bastien lifts his eyebrow slightly. “I know you’re not unfamiliar with how Darium soldiers carry out justice.”

I’m not. I’ve seen Darium soldiers cut down Accasian citizens in the street—and heard of so many more incidents. My first love, the palace guard I fell for years ago, was murdered that way.

But…

“There was nothing for her to take offense from or see as a threat. The man she killed didn’t say anything to her, didn’t touch her.”

They usually have some kind of excuse, even if it’s as absurd a reason as supposed disrespect.

Bastien shrugs. “She was caught up in a crowd of people she’s been trained to see as the enemy. I’d imagine that feels like a threat all on its own. I certainly don’t feel safe surrounded by Darium citizens.”

He has a point there. I hug myself, wishing it could be his arms around me.

Is that what the vision was trying to tell me? That Darium soldiers need to be working together so they don’t get overwhelmed and lash out with unnecessary violence?

Queen Anahi balked when I suggested that Dariu might reclaim some of the soldiers posted here. Perhaps she really did think that’s a bad idea.

A reduced force might feel more pressure to maintain control. If I dismissed some of the Darium soldiers stationed abroad, would those who remained act out against the locals even more than we just saw?

My head is spinning. I close my eyes for a second, trying to will my thoughts into order.

I want to give more control back to the kingdoms, to put their fates in the hands of their own royals as much as possible. I can hardly recall every Darium soldier while maintaining the basic structure of the empire—and even if I wanted to try that, what supporters I have in Dariu would think I’d gone mad.

The loosening of our shackles on the conquered countries needs to be slow and subtle. How in the realms am I going to accomplish that if even starting the process might result in more violence?