Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
Aurelia
M y stomach has already been churning as I watched the people of the city of Andov erect their horrific building with the bones of past citizens. When Linus’s gaze fixes on me, the nausea congeals into a pool of pure dread.
I know the tales of Elox well. I can already guess which he has in mind given the circumstances he’s created.
He hops onto the platform, takes my hand with a tug sharp enough to send a twinge through my wrist, and spins to face our audience. “One of Elox’s early disciples had himself buried beneath the earth so he could reach the greatest depths of meditation. I’m sure your empress is just as eager to bring back more wisdom from her godlen for all of us. We can begin our celebration of your country’s loyalty while she communes with the divine.”
From the glint dancing in his eyes, he expects me to balk just as the city folk did when he first declared his test for them. But even as the chill inside me spreads through my limbs, I will not let these people see a cowed wife.
I can own this test as I have all those before. I can give our downtrodden audience an empress who’ll face their emperor’s cruelty without being shaken, who’s determined to stand with her people rather than against them.
Drawing my posture straighter, I smile back at him. “It will be an incredible opportunity to receive Elox’s guidance for the future of our empire. I welcome the chance to put myself in the hands of my godlen while serving all of our people.”
Let Goric’s rulers and civilians see the man who asked them to dig up their dead for his own glory—and the woman who sacrificed her comfort to learn how she could make their lives better.
A muscle in Linus’s cheek ticks, but he can hardly complain about my willingness. “Excellent! Let us begin.”
As he escorts me off the platform, my gaze snags on Lorenzo’s where he’s lowered his lyre. The horror etched on his face matches the turmoil inside me.
I flick my fingers at my side. I’m fine.
At least, I hope I will be.
The devout in the story of old told his companions to dig him up after three days had passed, taking only a flask of water with him and fasting through his meditation. Surely my husband—even the more sadistic twin—wouldn’t leave his pregnant wife and his heir buried for anywhere near that long?
I don’t even know how long the air would actually last before it soured… There’s no telling how much the fable was embellished or outright invented. I wore the steel-woven undershirt Raul gifted me with beneath my dress today in anticipation of the danger to come, but it won’t help me through this particular challenge.
My mouth has gone dry. As Linus leads me along a path cleared by our soldiers, I swallow thickly and shrug my worries off as well as I can.
When we step into the cemetery, I have to restrain a wince. Heaps of dirt are strewn around open pits all through one section of the graveyard—presumably where the older bodies were buried, chosen to ensure they would only be bones. Chunks of aged boards from the coffins add to the mess. A loamy scent permeates in the air.
So many ancient bodies have been disturbed from their eternal rest for one man’s self-importance. We can only hope their souls are so deep in the arms of their godlen that the disruption didn’t touch them. I can’t imagine how awful the city folk must feel having to desecrate this place.
Next to one dug-up pit near the gates, a new but simple coffin has been set down by two imperial footmen. They watch our approach with tight expressions, stifling whatever feelings they might have about their emperor’s command.
Linus certainly hasn’t given any care to my comfort. The wooden box is unpadded and unpolished, nothing more than rough boards nailed together. The sight of the thin gaps between a few of the boards sends a tremor through my nerves. How much soil will seep through?
It doesn’t appear he’s even offering me water. May that be a sign that this won’t be too long a trial.
I suspect that if I ask how long I’ll be down there for, Linus will frame the question as a lack of faith and increase whatever time he was already planning. The more unfazed I act, the more regal and generous I appear in front of these people, the less satisfaction he’ll get out of extending my torment.
Linus motions for me to get in. I lift my hand as if in benediction to the people who are streaming into the graveyard to watch, and clamber over the side of the coffin.
It seems wisest to lie on my side so my belly won’t weigh down on the rest of me. I tuck one arm beneath my head to cushion it.
Without asking whether I’m ready, Linus orders one of the footmen to close the lid. It shuts with a thump just a few inches from my higher shoulder, taking most of the light with it.
Before long, I won’t have any light at all.
As the coffin hefts into the air and then starts to lower, I close my eyes. I might as well accept the darkness while I have a choice about it.
With each sway of the box, I even out my breaths. Inhale slowly, exhale even slower. Sink into the center of calm I’ve held on to for so long.
Elox, let me make something good out of my husband’s terrors. I give myself over to your care. Where should I go from here? What else can I do to heal all this wrongness?
My pulse hitches with the thud of the coffin hitting the base of the pit. The rhythm keeps stuttering as dirt falls onto the lid with a heavy patter. Despite my attempts to stay calm, a jitter of panic crawls over my skin.
I’m not convinced that Linus actually wants to dig me up alive. He could make an easy story out of my death, saying the gods judged me unworthy.
And even if that’s not his intention, there’s at least one figure among our companions who wants me dead. Will their gift allow them to attack now that I’m beyond the reach of all our guards?
I resist the urge to shove at the lid and heave myself out of the coffin. My godlen is watching over me. I can endure this affront as I have so much else.
No one will want to be ruled by an empress who’s broken down in seeming hysteria.
My breath has gotten short again. I squeeze my eyes tighter shut and focus on smoothing out its rhythm.
As the thunder of dirt against wood fades with the thickening layer atop my prison, a different sound slides into my awareness. Lorenzo’s resonant voice reaches me, low and soft as if he’s murmuring by my ear.
“We’re still here with you, Rell. We’re making sure you’ll get through this test alive. Bastien is working the air to keep a channel open in the soil all the way down to the cracks in the coffin, too small for anyone to see it. And Raul can use that gap to sense you through the shadows. Did you hear all that?”
A swell of relieved affection overwhelms me. It takes a moment before I gather my wits enough to nod in answer.
Raul must register that movement, because Lorenzo speaks again a moment later. “Good. He thinks he should be able to read any signs you make, as long as you’re slow with them and emphasize the shapes. We’ll keep watch, even after the celebration starts. We won’t let anyone hurt you.”
A pang of worry for them winds through my own discomforts. I swivel my hand carefully in the space in front of me. Stay away from danger.
I suppose it isn’t difficult for them to guess what I mean by that. “We’ll be subtle about guarding you,” Lorenzo promises. “We just want you to know you’re not alone even now. And if you feel like you need out right away, signal us and we’ll find some kind of excuse. I promise.”
A thread of a breeze, more of a current than should be able to reach this closed box, winds around my hand and brushes over my cheek as if in a caress. My throat constricts with emotion.
Linus can’t truly destroy us because he has no idea how much strength we offer each other.
Both my pulse and my breathing have evened out with the unexpected conversation and the reassurance it brought. I nestle my head against my arm, getting as comfortable as I can with my hip and shoulder pressing against the rough boards beneath me, and open my mind to the greater powers around us once more.
Show me what I need to see, Elox. Please. I know I haven’t followed every step of the path you laid out for me, but I swear I’ll embody your principles as best I can until the end. I can’t try to do what you think is best unless I know what that is.
For what feels like a long time, there’s nothing. My consciousness unravels, drifting into a hazy doze. Every time an uneasy quiver shoots through my nerves, Lorenzo is murmuring a few more reassuring words in my ear before my fear can escalate.
In one of the lulls in between, an image forms behind my closed eyes. I see a hand as if it’s my own lifted in front of me, clutching a gleaming knife.
I raise the blade higher as if to slash at something in front of me, and a gentle pressure forms around my hand. It holds me back, warding me off from the violence.
With a flare of anger, my eyes pop open to the darkness of the coffin.
Is that all Elox can say to me now? Hold my blows, don’t defend myself?
Am I not already bending to my husband’s will more than most people would tolerate? How thin am I supposed to spread myself before my godlen would think it acceptable for me to strike back?
I let myself be lowered into the earth to commune with him, and all he has to say is the same simplistic message of peace he’s given me before. As if he didn’t urge me toward assassinating Tarquin in the first place.
Does he really think Marclinus—or at least Linus—is better than his father?
Lorenzo’s voice returns. “Are you all right, Rell? Raul says you tensed up.”
I can hardly explain with hand signals. As I form the gesture to tell them I’m fine, the baby squirms inside me with a nudge of my gut.
I loop my arm around my belly and aim my next thoughts toward my growing child. Hang in there, little one. We’ll get through this too.
“Axius is talking to Marclinus,” Lorenzo reports. “It looks like… Yes, he’s calling everyone over to watch. They’re going to dig you up.”
Thank the gods.
After another eternity, shovels scrape the coffin lid. Flecks of dirt slip between the cracks. Then the lid swings upward, spilling sunlight that’s never gleamed quite so radiantly down on me.
A couple of the soldiers lean down to offer their arms and lift me—with impressive care—out of the hole. A swarm of nobles and city folk stand around the graveyard plot, watching me as if they expected me to emerge speaking in holy tongues.
Awe shines on even Queen Dafina’s and King Gligor’s faces. I think I may have won over one royal family just like that.
My sense of victory coils around my chest, bittersweet. How much good will it do me to have impressed them now when their son will be ranting against me?
Marclinus beckons me over with a pointed expression. “You’ve made it through your submersion rather unruffled, wife. Won’t you share what immense insights the experience gave you?”
Looking into his arrogant face, a sharper surge of fury lances through me. It takes all my control not to snatch the dagger I slipped from Neven’s sleeve out of my cloak’s inner pocket and attempt to plunge it into this wretch of a man’s chest like the young prince no doubt wanted to.
I’ve survived the ordeal and I might appear unruffled, but my nerves are frayed more than I like. The pressure of so many gazes gnaws at my skin.
I force a smile I suspect looks stiff despite my best efforts. “I had quite a vision, one that spoke of patience and understanding. We should all look to the future with open arms rather than hostility. But I’m not sure I fully understood every nuance. The vision wasn’t quite finished when you retrieved me. I’d like to visit the nearest temple of Elox or the All-Giver so I might meditate on the matter a little more.”
Most of the crowd murmurs eagerly at the vague remarks I’ve already given. Marclinus takes stock of their response and must decide that pitching me back into the coffin would benefit my status with the Goricians more than his own.
He slides his hand under my cloak so he can pinch my ass out of view before nudging me onward. “I won’t deny a divine calling. Off to the carriage with you, then. We’ll continue to revel until you return!”