A Dance of Shadows (The Royal Spares #3)

Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Bastien

W hen Aurelia first passed on Marclinus’s comments to me, I hoped my interpretation was wrong. The moment he announced our destination, I knew it wasn’t.

Now, stepping out at the side of the road by the Temple of Hidden Truths, my gut feels as if it’s been wrung out like a towel.

I had the chance to let my brother know what I suspected. He must have passed on word to Father and Mother so they could make some advance preparations. I spotted a few members of the palace staff riding out in the direction of the temple before we headed down to the square for the ceremony.

But no amount of readiness is likely to make whatever Marclinus has in mind actually safe.

The temple’s cleric and a few of the devouts gather in front of the field of irises. The cleric catches my father’s eye with a discreet nod before focusing her attention on Marclinus.

“Your Imperial Majesty,” she says as he saunters over with Aurelia by his side and the court nobles clustered around them. “We of the Temple of Hidden Truths are honored by your visit. How can we best serve you?”

The emperor stops a careful distance from the field, gazing past the temple staff to study the vibrant purple flowers. They bob in the breeze—and sway here and there with the contradictory force of a body winding past their stalks.

Marclinus rubs his hands together. “I understand you cultivate this field out of respect for Estera’s lesson of the asp amid the irises.”

The cleric bobs her head. “Indeed. It’s one of our godlen’s most important teachings—that you must look beyond surface appearances to discern the full nature of a situation.”

The emperor flicks his fingers toward the broad stretch of flowers. “How many of the snakes would you say are living in this garden of sorts at the moment.”

“We don’t keep count, but I expect at least a few dozen. They come and go, but we feed them well, and they do enjoy the shelter of the flowers and the soil that forms from the fallen petals.”

“Excellent!” Marclinus spins on his heel with a swish of his jacket and aims his grin at the city folk who’ve followed our procession from the square. More and more commoners are crowding around the line of carriages, looking on with curiosity—and a little apprehension.

We Coteans well know that the emperor’s whims are often not to our benefit.

Marclinus’s gaze slides to my family, poised off to the side by their royal carriage, and back to our spectators. He pitches his voice to carry.

“I wish to confirm that the people of Cotea are wise enough to separate the snakes from the blossoms when their emperor asks it of them. Your long-ago ruler once discerned the threat amid the flowers. Surely you can do the same! Seek the serpents out and remove them all from this field by whatever means—send them off into the forest there if that suits you. For a short while, we’ll have a field that’s only flowers.”

My stomach plummets.

The cleric looks as if she’s fighting a grimace. “Your Imperial Majesty? There are far more asps living here now than in the fable we?—”

He waves off her warning without bothering to hear it through. “I’m sure your people will be inspired enough to do a good job of it all the same.” He casts his gaze toward the commoners again. “And you’d better do a good job! An hour seems like more than long enough. We’ll be testing your thoroughness and discernment by having your royal family take a stroll across the field once your time is up.”

Fuck, no. I glance at my parents—and my brother and his wife and my young niece and nephew.

The poison of the banded asp is vicious. A grown man can be dead from it within an hour. Every person of Delphine knows to give the temple’s iris field a wide berth when visiting.

And what kind of idiotic plan is our emperor suggesting? Toss the snakes into the forest? Does he expect they won’t simply slither right back out again?

The image that forms in my head prods me into action. As Marclinus sweeps his arms toward the commoners, urging them toward the field as the first bell of the afternoon rings, I slip over to my parents as surreptitiously as I can manage.

I come to a stop next to my father as if I’m simply lending familial solidarity, but I speak quickly under my breath. “We should send people into the woods to grab sticks to handle the snakes. A few can stay there with sacks to collect the asps so they stay out of the field. They should keep out of Marclinus’s view among the trees, in case he’d object.”

Father nods with a swift jerk. “I was thinking along much the same lines.”

He pivots to murmur to one of the footmen. The man weaves off into the crowd, spreading the instructions.

Several civilians have ventured to the edge of the field, where it looks like the devouts already scattered some sticks in case the emperor wanted someone to interact with the asps. I doubt anyone who hadn’t spent the last few months in the imperial court would have guessed he’d want us to handle all of them, though.

As those closest by pick up a couple of sticks each and other city folk go hustling into the forest, Father turns back to me. He keeps his gaze on the people carrying out this task for our country, but his quiet words are obviously meant for me. “I wouldn’t have imagined you’d be the one suggesting we bend the rules, Bastien.”

An uncomfortable prickle runs down my back. You’d think he’d be happy about my willingness to work around Marclinus’s intentions after all the times he’s chided me for thinking too narrowly in the past.

I lift my chin. “He hasn’t overtly said we can’t contain the snakes once they’re out of the field. I’d rather risk his anger than see Maud or Polin bitten.”

“Good to know you still have some of your priorities in order.”

I bite back the retort I’d like to make. Father used to hope that I’d come back from Dariu on my occasional visits with inside knowledge he could use against the empire—or at least to better defend our own people. He’s been frustrated by my seeming unwillingness to dig deeper and pry into areas that aren’t supposed to concern me.

If he had any idea how far I’ve gone—that my sacrifice wasn’t just for our country but to destroy our conquerors as well… If he had any idea how much I’ve been trying to protect our people from the sort of vengeance Emperor Tarquin would have rained down on him if he’d acted on what I could have told him…

What would Father and my brother think of me if they knew the “heir” they just swore allegiance to is actually my child, not Marclinus’s?

The thought of telling them gives me a sickly satisfaction I know I can’t indulge. Risks aside, I’m not here to impress them.

It’s Aurelia they need to respect, not me.

That doesn’t mean I’m going to stand by while the commoners tackle Marclinus’s brutal demand on their own. Lorenzo stepped in during the challenge in Santia. I can face a few snakes.

Fuck our imperial foster brother if he thinks he can crush any of our spirits.

I step away from my family to snatch up a couple of the remaining sticks. Raul starts to hustle over from the watching crowd of Darium nobles, Lorenzo close at his heels, but I motion them away with a jerk of my hand.

I know my foster brothers would stand with me through this awful task, but Marclinus asked for the Coteans to clear the field. No doubt he’d see anyone else’s involvement as overt cheating.

The devouts advise all of us to approach the snakes carefully and quietly so they’ll remain as calm as possible. The cleric has ventured over to the woods to advise the civilians who’ve gathered additional sticks there.

I ease between the flowers. Banded asps are particularly difficult to spot amid irises because their scales ripple in stripes of purple and green nearly the same hues as the plants.

That was the core of Estera’s lesson in the old fable. People will take a glance and assume they know what they’re seeing, but that negligence can lead you into danger. You have to look closely and consider the details to know for sure what you’re dealing with.

Like right now, as I tread between the bobbing stems, something sinewy winds beneath the leaves that’s definitely not part of the flowers.

Taking a slow breath to steady myself, I lower the sticks. When I’m leaning closer, I can make out the asp’s head and the sheen of its scales.

In one motion, I tuck the end of the first stick under the snake’s middle and lift it into view. Before it can squirm off, I clamp it in place with the second stick.

Its head weaves with a threatening hiss, but the sticks give me enough distance to protect me from its fangs. Holding it in place as if with tongs, I retreat to the edge of the field so I don’t stomp on any other venomous creatures and hurry it over to the forest.

I don’t dare pick up my pace to even a jog, afraid I’ll drop the asp, but by the time I’ve marched several paces between the trees to where one of the city folk is holding a sack, my single lung has tightened. As I stride over to the man, a rasp creeps up my throat.

Extreme tension can make a little physical exertion much more intense.

The man dips into a hasty bow before jerking the top of the sack open. I toss the snake inside to join the one already squirming at the bottom and head back the way I came.

Two done, gods know how many more to go. But we’re beating Marclinus’s sick test.

I have to dodge the commoners hauling their own catches between the trees. While the snakes gnash their fangs and quiver their tongues, none of them are flailing too violently.

Marclinus might have done some reading in godlen fables, but I bet he has no idea that “snake-races” are a common childhood game around Delphine, partly inspired by the story of Estera. Although we play with garter snakes that don’t pose any real threat.

When I emerge from the trees, another robed figure has joined the Esteran cleric and her devouts at the edge of the field. His white clothing identifies him as a disciple of Elox, presumably a medic. I’d guess Father put in word for him to join us after I passed on the initial warning.

The necessity of his presence becomes obvious just a few moments later. A man farther across the field scoops up an asp between his sticks—and jerks with a cry as the flowers rustle by his calves.

A woman nearby sucks in a raspy breath. “Nole’s been bit!”

Even as she speaks, the man stumbles. The snake he caught tumbles from his grasp.

Riled by the temporary capture, it must shoot forward quickly. Another woman just a few paces away yelps and staggers with a bite of her own.

Nole is swaying on his feet. Sweat gleams on his sallow face.

The Eloxian devout steps forward. “Help them over to the edge of the field, as carefully as you ca?—”

Marclinus cuts him off with a scornful bark of laughter. “I don’t think so. Leave the wounded where they fell. It looks as though not all Coteans have learned Estera’s lessons well enough.”

A vise squeezes around my lung. I can’t hold back my protest. “If they don’t receive medical help, they’ll die.”

The emperor narrows his eyes at me. “Then they should have looked where they stepped more cautiously and done their empire proud.” He cuts his gaze toward the medic. “Stand down.”

There’s no mistaking the warning in his tone. How many more will die if we provoke Marclinus’s temper?

I swallow hard, barely dislodging the lump that’s clogged my throat.

The two bitten civilians have sunk down amid the grass. The man is biting his lip against the pain that must be spreading up through his leg. Silent tears streak down the woman’s cheeks.

The rest of the snake-hunters start to move again, even more vigilantly than before. As they pass their felled companions, I catch whispers of solidarity and grief.

But we must keep going.

Pushing past the weight in my chest, I scan the irises and retrieve another snake. In the woods, the sacks squirm as they fill with captives. Surely there can’t be too many more.

No further cries reach my ears. When I return, no one else is slumped amid the flowers except the two who are now trembling with the effects of the poison.

As I venture into the irises again, a woman nearby scoops up an asp and then flinches as it whips its head toward her. It slips from between her sticks. She scrambles to the side with a swift call of warning.

All of us in the field freeze, watching for the serpent to come our way. The growing babble of the observing nobles drifts through our silence.

One baron lets out a whoop. “Where’d that one go? It was a wild one!”

A bellow of laughter and more excited chatter follows, getting louder by the minute. Perhaps they’re getting impatient that there hasn’t been more drama after that brief taste.

The woman who dropped the snake meets my gaze with a nervous twist of her mouth. The more of a racket our audience makes, the more agitated the snakes will get. And our task will become even harder.

I don’t want to see even more of my people lost to asp venom on our emperor’s whim.

I glance over my shoulder at the gathered court. No doubt if my family or I make any kind of request for silence, Marclinus will only egg the nobles on.

My eyes snag on Aurelia’s across the way. Pain briefly tightens her face, smoothed out a moment later with a serene smile. But her hand shifts across her skirt in what’s obviously a question.

You need help?

I pass the sticks into one hand and swipe my fingers through my hair as if pushing the auburn strands away from my eyes. As I lower my arm, I make a quick gesture. Quiet.

I’m not sure if she’ll understand, but calmness is my beloved’s natural state. She can probably guess that the tumult is stirring up the snakes.

As I shift my attention back to the field, the clear voice of my empress rings out through the chatter, gentle but steady. “We’re missing some of the fun! Let’s hear the snakes hiss and snap. I wonder if they make a particular sound right before they strike?”

It’s a perfect gambit, sounding as if she’s eager for carnage rather than trying to prevent it. Marclinus motions to the other nobles in support, and a hush falls over the watching crowd.

Suppressing a tight smile of gratitude, I spot another asp. With a hitch of my breath, I scoop it up like I did the ones before.

By the time the temple bell rings in the next hour, I’ve deposited a fourth snake in one of the waiting sacks. The city folk and I have spent most of the past several minutes scouring the ground beneath the flowers and collecting the last few asps that escaped our initial sweep.

Nole and the bitten woman lie slumped on their sides amid the flowers, their breaths coming in a halting rattle and their skin darkened with a purplish hue that matches the blooms.

When Marclinus beckons my family to stand at the edge of the field, I walk to join them with trepidation knotting my stomach.

I don’t think any of the creatures remain—but perhaps our wisdom and our eyes failed us after all. And we have to walk past our two citizens who will soon die so that we could make this short trek safely.

Father leads the way, striding forward without a hint of concern, full of faith in his people. Mother flanks him, with Rolland and his wife right behind them, holding their children’s hands. I follow at the back, unable to stop myself from scanning the flowers as I go.

The irises brush against my trousers, but not a single hiss reaches our ears. We reach the far end of the field, loop around, and promenade back.

By the fallen civilians, Father pauses to offer a short but emphatic bow of gratitude.

At our return, Marclinus applauds with an expression that looks more mocking than pleased. The rest of the court follows his example.

The emperor’s gaze slides to Aurelia, and my heart lurches. He told her he was going to test her too, didn’t he? She didn’t insert herself into the challenge anywhere near as blatantly as she did in Rione…

“Very good,” Marclinus says in a jovial tone, and sets a possessive hand on Aurelia’s shoulder. “To show the empire’s devotion to all its countries in turn, my wife will now honor her patron godlen and her gift by concocting a cure for banded asp venom. It’s too late for the recent fallen, so your royal family will prove the loyalty they pledged by accepting a bite, and she’ll prove our gratitude by curing them. Devotion all around!”

I blink at him with a wobble of nausea. He’s going to poison all of us?

As if sensing my stare, our emperor swings toward us. He points at me. “I’d imagine she’ll need a little local expertise on this quest. Prince Bastien, my loyal foster brother, you will help her ferret out whatever ingredients she needs.”

My mouth opens, but it takes me a second before I can speak. “Yes, Your Imperial Majesty.”

What else can I say?

My father’s low voice reaches my ears from behind me. “Have you caught his attention, Bastien? You’ve always seemed most comfortable in the background… I hope you haven’t bitten off more than you can chew.”