Chapter 47
Chapter Forty-Seven
Aurelia
L inus rotates his fork between his fingers and smirks at the waystation dining room stretched out before us. “Ah, it is good to be back on Darium soil. We’ve been away an awfully long time. Perhaps we should pause and bestow our good graces on some of these outer towns that are so often deprived. They might particularly enjoy my presence during Creadenalia.”
My next bite of our breakfast eggs slides down my throat in a sticky lump. It took three weeks to get my husband out of Goric. Is he looking for some new excuse to delay before we’re all the way back to Vivencia? The festival of Creaden often lasts a few days in Dariu.
My constant companion in my belly seems to share my silent protest with a particularly forceful squirm. I think she might have just punched my liver.
At least she’s got spirit.
I summon an ingratiating smile, knowing that any hint I show that extending our journey would bother me may give the sadistic side of my husband an excuse to test my resilience yet again. Besides, he’s given me an opening to plant a different sort of hint.
“What a generous idea, husband. I have gathered that some of the court feels we’re rushing back rather quickly. Although whatever you choose, I’m sure they realize your decisions have all our best interests at heart.”
Linus’s gaze sharpens as he flicks it over our table and those beyond. “Have you heard someone complaining about the pace I’ve set?”
I wave my hand dismissively, lowering my voice. “Oh, one of my maids mentioned that some muttering has been going on among the nobles—I’m sure it’s nothing significant.”
But Linus isn’t inclined to let any dissension at all slide. He frowns, studying his court as if he can pick any mildly mutinous thoughts out of their heads.
While he’s distracted, I manage to catch Raul’s gaze where he’s sitting by the end of our table and make a hasty gesture. My princes were largely responsible for convincing Linus to get a move on back to Dariu. We may need another “omen” to make him even more inclined to defy his court’s supposed dissent.
The prince of Lavira gives me a subtle nod and a trace of a smile once he’s no longer looking my way. He turns toward where Lorenzo is eating in his careful way at a neighboring table.
The baron seated across from my husband jolts, and I realize Linus kicked him under the table. The emperor gazes at the man with a smile that bares his teeth. “Baron Nisto, you’re looking forward to our return to the grandest of my palaces, aren’t you? Let me hear your favorite spectacle that I conducted as you’re looking forward to describing it to our friends back home.”
The baron’s dark face takes on a duller cast as he appears to grope for his words. “Certainly, Your Imperial Majesty. I, ah, I’d have to say…”
While he stammers through his praise of the Rionian boat-building, the morning light on the wall behind him shifts. The shapes painted by the beams of sunlight passing through the windows stretch a little taller with roof-like points that vaguely mimic the imperial palace.
I pretend not to notice, but after a few seconds, Linus catches the “vision” Lorenzo must have conjured. He’s been primed by the little warning signs the prince created back in Goric to help convince him it was time to leave.
One tower and then another breaks away, blinking out into shadow. Like a signal from the gods that the capital city may be under threat.
Linus’s fingers tighten around his fork. He cuts the baron off with a jerk of the utensil. “Yes, yes, very good, enough.” He shoves to his feet. “All right, you lay-abouts, finish gorging yourselves and get on your way. You’ve had enough time to dally.”
I ease back my chair and stand while restraining a grimace. Even the imperial beds in the waystations can’t cushion my unwieldy body well enough to prevent new aches from springing up. The long days in the carriage hardly help.
But now that we’re across the border, we should be back to the imperial palace within the week. As long as we can keep Linus on track.
I’ve been able to carry out one more scheme of my own in the meantime. As we head toward the front of the building to wait for the staff to bring around the carriages, I scan the crowd for the figure I’m hoping I can aim my husband’s ire at next.
There’s Viceroy Ennius, sauntering along with his usual sour but haughty expression, prodding Bianca to keep up with him when she pauses to exchange a remark with Baronissa Hivette. The fine wool of his winter dress shirt looks deep blue in the mix of lanternlight and the filtered glow from the windows.
I gave Bianca that shirt to add to his wardrobe shortly before we left Goric. She didn’t ask any questions, just arched her eyebrow and accepted my instructions.
This is the first time he’s happened to wear it. Once we’re outside in the full sun for a few minutes…
Linus strides alongside the growing throng of nobles, his steps brisk with impatience. I trail close behind him to stay within the range of his guards. No odd “accidents” have befallen me since our journey to Goric, but I’m not throwing caution to the wind.
We emerge into the bright mid-winter morning. This waystation suits my purposes well, its front courtyard facing east where it can absorb the full impact of the rising sun.
In glimpses, I see Ennius’s shirt brighten and shift in hue bit by bit… until it’s a vibrant imperial purple.
With my last glance, I suck in a breath as if I’m startled. Linus’s head jerks around so he can follow my gaze.
The agitation I sensed in his movements turns his voice harsh. “What the fuck is this, Viceroy?”
Several of the other nobles are already staring at Ennius. He flinches at Linus’s voice. As he spins around, his gaze locks onto my husband’s furious expression and then drops to himself.
For the first time, he realizes that the shirt he’s wearing isn’t exactly the one he thought he put on.
No one outside the imperial family is allowed to wear anything close to that particular shade of violet. Even I’m restricted from it.
Linus halts in front of the viceroy and slashes his hand through the air to gesture at the other man’s chest. “You think you’re on the same level as the emperor now, do you? I suppose you have all kinds of thoughts on how my rule isn’t quite to your liking?”
My comment about the muttering among the nobles should have served two ends—not just riling up his obstinacy, but also reminding him of the supposed observations I’ve mentioned to Marc about one particular noble who’s criticized the emperor behind his back.
Ennius blanches. He wrenches at the shirt as if he means to tear it off right in the courtyard. “I wouldn’t have— It didn’t look like this before.”
Linus scoffs with a shake of his head. “You thought I’d be too busy ‘rushing’ along in our journey to notice. How much farther were you going to take this insurrection once we reached Vivencia?”
The viceroy manages to wrench the shirt off. He drops to his knees in front of the emperor with his head bowed low.
The crowd around us has fallen into an ominous hush. Unsettled expressions cross several faces. Everyone knows the consequences of crossing Marclinus… and after our fraught tour of the continent, his nobles are celebrating his volatility less than they once did.
“There’s no insurrection, Your Imperial Majesty, I swear,” Ennius rasps out. “There’s been some mistake. You have all my loyalty.”
Frozen next to him, Bianca catches my gaze with wide eyes. I dip my hand in a subtle gesture for her to follow her husband’s lead.
To my relief, she understands. She crumples beside Ennius, dipping her head even lower than his so a few strands of her upswept hair brush the dirt. “Please have mercy, Your Imperial Majesty. You know we have only ever served you well. I’m sure my husband meant no real harm.”
Linus scoffs. “ You have served me plenty. This would-be traitor, I’m not so sure.”
Ennius’s voice is muffled by his pose. “I’ll do whatever you ask of me to prove my loyalty, Your Imperial Majesty. All I need is the chance.”
Linus’s lips draw back in a sneer. I rest my hand on his arm.
“Husband,” I say, gently but loud enough to be sure most of the court can hear me, “whatever his intended crime may have been, he does appear quite penitent. And it was a very brief crime, was it not? Perhaps we could give him time to contemplate his mistakes and make amends, and see if he can satisfy you.”
Let every noble before us observe that the real mercy comes from me.
Linus narrows his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
I give a soft laugh. “I wouldn’t say the viceroy shouldn’t be punished for his arrogance. Why should he get to remain in your wonderous presence when he’s attempted to mock it? Banish him to his estate for however long you like. Perhaps without the company of his wife, so he can feel the isolation that much more keenly. If he does anything else to displease you, then you will know where he stands for certain.”
My husband rubs his jaw, a gleam lighting in his eyes. He doesn’t like taking guidance, but I’ve also given him an idea that plays into one of his greatest joys: inflicting humiliation.
And he has his own reasons for wanting to keep Bianca close by rather than extending the punishment to her as well.
Of course, he still needs to take credit.
Linus grasps my shoulder, a vicious grin stretching across his face. “See how well my wife has learned our ways with the lessons I’ve given her! You should be glad for my choice in partner, Ennius. Ten years stuck within the borders of Cloela should be plenty of time for you to reflect, hmm? But we can’t let your lovely wife be neglected in the meantime.”
He snaps his fingers, and Bianca scrambles to her feet to join him.
Linus beckons to the waystation staff. “Get an extra carriage for the viceroy and his things alone. He’s parting ways with us here—for an extended repose.” He pats Bianca on the ass. “You can ride in the best of the carriages.”
From the sharpening of his grin when he glances at me again, I think he imagines he’s punishing me for speaking up as well. As if I want him pawing at me. My only regret is that I can’t imagine Bianca is going to enjoy his attention all that much either.
But once we reach Vivencia, we may both be free of him.
The imperial carriage has just drawn up next to us. As Linus ushers Bianca and me into the vehicle, he gives my ass a squeeze for good measure. My pulse stutters with the fear that he might attempt another joint interlude between all three of us.
Then we settle into our seats, and his gaze drifts to my protruding belly. Undisguised disgust twists his features.
He taps my chin hard enough to hurt. “I do like you with your claws out, wife. Twist that peace to make it torture. Very clever.”
His compliment rolls off me, leaving my skin clammy. “Perhaps we’ve been a useful influence on each other, husband. Have you gotten any peace from the gift I gave you?” I haven’t noticed the Elox-blessed pendant’s chain around his neck.
Linus snorts. “No one needs more peace. We’ll see what I can make of you yet.”
As the rest of the court clambers into their own carriages, a soldier approaches our window. She hands a scroll through to Linus. “This just came with a messenger.”
Once she’s left, Linus scans the letter briefly and then tosses it into his small storage trunk.
I can’t restrain my itch for knowledge. “What was that about? I hope nothing’s gone wrong.”
He shrugs. “Tribune Valerisse is simply confirming that she’s joining us in the capital for further consultation.”
I hadn’t known he or Marc had requested consultation—or did the request come from the tribune?
My throat constricts. “Has she said anything about the soldier you sent back to her from Accasy?”
Linus’s sigh suggests the subject bores him. “I can’t imagine there would be anything newsworthy to mention about that idiot.”
With another grimace at my belly, he tugs Bianca close against him and turns all his attention on her.
I drag my gaze to the window, adrift in a whirl of thoughts. Did the soldier who used his gift against me even make it to Lavira—or did Linus have reasons to ensure no one ever questioned the man more thoroughly?
What plans does he have for when we reach Vivencia?
For all my victories, I still don’t know just how much of an enemy my husband has become. And once we reach the palace, I may lose my best chance at finding out.
How can I expect Marc to defend me from his twin if even he’s unaware of the full extent of Linus’s villainy?
Perhaps it’s time to determine who’s most interested in ending me.