A Dance of Shadows (The Royal Spares #3)

Chapter 48

Chapter Forty-Eight

Aurelia

I get my opportunity three nights later when the court emerges from dinner in a stuffy waystation to enjoy Dariu’s mild winter climate in the courtyard. They seem to appreciate the weather, but I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to a winter where you can’t see your breath in a cloud in front of you.

Heading outside allows us more room to move around, though. Marc shoots me one of the fond smiles that feel so wrong from him and ambles over to chat with Counsel Etta and a couple of high-ranking nobles.

Any other evening, I’d have followed him. Tonight, I want to look vulnerable.

I need to tempt my intended assassin—or assassins, depending on how many of them there are—into making another attempt.

Without even looking toward my princes, I make a gesture at my side. Ready.

They’ve been watching me more closely than ever since I was able to convey my plan to them in a hasty conversation yesterday. Bastien and Raul both tried to argue me out of taking the risk.

“I’m going to be putting myself in much more danger than this if we’re going to see our plans through to the end,” I reminded them. “Neven isn’t totally wrong—we can’t shrink from a battle when we’re better off taking control.”

Lorenzo simply said, “We’ll protect you when you need it, Rell. If we hold up our end, none of us will need to worry.”

Neither Bastien nor Raul could protest any more after that, although Raul seemed to feel he needed to make a show of grumbling a little more.

Now, Lorenzo’s illusionary voice passes into my head within a few heartbeats after my signal. “We’re ready too. We’ll spread out but make sure we all have you in view. Don’t move too quickly.”

I can give them that much. After all, I do very much share their preference that I remain un-assassinated.

I stroll casually in the opposite direction from Marc, letting my gaze drift vaguely across the courtyard as if I’m not paying much attention to my surroundings. Here and there, flames dance in the small braziers set up to offer additional light and heat. I weave between them, taking in their prickles of warmth.

My gait is starting to feel more like a waddle than I like, but in this particular scenario, that fact may enhance my appearance of vulnerability.

When a server offers a platter of desserts, I pluck up a pastry so I have something to nibble on—and offer a target for if my enemies want to try the choking route again. I pretend to take careless bites but actually only nip off a little of the flaky dough so there isn’t much to snag in my throat with each swallow.

Let’s get on with it. I’ve got no magic-sensing guards near me now. This is the perfect opening for a little imperial murder.

I keep my steps as light as possible but plant my feet firmly with each one to surreptitiously steady my balance. Every nerve buzzes beneath my skin, on the alert for a threat I can’t entirely anticipate.

I stop to exchange a few pleasantries with Baronissas Damina and Hivette, and then a couple of clusters of nobles who are warmer in their friendliness than I think they were before we left this country. I’d chat with Bianca, but she’s at the end of the courtyard near Marc—and I don’t want to get into a conversation that would distract me from my goal.

My past “accidents” have happened while I was relatively alone. I meander toward the edge of the courtyard, taking another nibble from my pastry. The soldiers stationed in a loose ring around the yard stare forward with bland expressions.

Veering back toward the clusters of nobles, I pass one of the braziers. I pause there for a moment to soak in the heat.

Just as I push onward, a lick of fire lashes straight toward me.

If I hadn’t been so secretly on guard, if my princes hadn’t been guarding me too, my entire dress might have gone up in flames in an instant. As it is, I only just jerk out of the way as a gust of wind smacks the sudden flare in the opposite direction.

Lorenzo’s voice peals into my head, taut with anger. “The soldier near the corner of the courtyard—the woman with the short black hair and the cleft chin—she was staring right at you when it happened and then jerked her gaze away to pretend she hadn’t seen. Raul says she hasn’t got any weapons on her except her regular sword.”

That sword could cut me just fine on its own, but at least I can keep track of where it is. I spin on my heel and march toward the soldier Lorenzo indicated.

My personal guards dash after me.

“Are you burned?” Kassun asks in a low voice. “We should have them put a damper on the braziers?—”

He doesn’t realize there was magic involved, that it was a purposeful attempt. If it wasn’t clear to him, I doubt anyone else suspects yet either.

I’ll just have to change that.

As I draw myself to an imperious halt in front of the soldier, my guard falls silent in confusion. The uniformed woman’s gaze ticks toward me, because she can hardly pretend not to notice her empress right there in front of her. The corner of her mouth twitches too, with what looks like a jolt of anxiety.

I’ve studied Marc’s list of the soldiers’ gifts thoroughly, and none of them had a talent for manipulating fire. But there are other ways one could direct flames without having a specific affinity for them, as Bastien just proved while protecting me.

“Why?” I ask.

The soldier’s gaze flickers again. “I—I’m sorry, Your Imperial Highness? Why what?”

I lean a little closer, keeping my own gaze intent and my voice low but harsh. “You know what I mean. What do you have against me? Who put you up to this? You couldn’t really think I wouldn’t find?—”

I was hoping to startle and intimidate her into giving up a clue. A glance toward her conspirators—or her overseer, if she has one. A protest that reveals more than it hides. Even a guilty confession. The slow and steady approach to interrogation doesn’t appear to have turned up anything with her colleague.

It’s clear I’ve got the right person—and that she recognizes she’s caught. Her entire body goes rigid, her face tightening in turn. But she only looks at me.

“I will be on the right side!” she cries out, and yanks her sword from its hilt.

Gods above, she’s willing to stab me right here in front of everyone.

I throw myself backward with a stumble as my belly pushes me off-balance. The woman’s swing falters, her head jerking with a frantic blinking of confusion—did Lorenzo blind her with an illusion?

One of my guards is already leaping in to drag me farther away, while Kassun dives in with his own sword drawn. A yelp bursts from my lips, more out of fear for my attacker than for me. We won’t get any answers if she’s dead.

But Kassun’s sword is already plunging into her chest.

As the assassin sags forward, blood splatters the stone tiles. My other guard tugs me farther away, muttering curses under her breath. More of the soldiers surge forward to close in around their treacherous comrade.

With a thud of hurried feet, Marc bursts into their midst. “What in the realms is going on?” he demands. His gaze falls on me, and his mouth twists in anguish at whatever emotion he sees on my face.

Kassun steps back, hefting his bloody sword, his own expression fraught. “This soldier—Her Imperial Highness must have realized something was wrong—all she did was speak to her, and out came the sword. She’d have killed our empress.”

Marc crosses the last space between us with a rough breath and grasps my arm. “Are you all right? Did she hurt you at all?”

I start to shake my head and realize he might not be able to tell which question I’m answering. “I’m uninjured.” My gaze falls to the slumped guard. “Is she— Is there any way to heal her? We can’t know more about why she lunged at me without questioning her.”

One of the other soldiers has knelt next to his sprawled colleague, feeling the side of her neck for a pulse. He looks up at us with a frown. “She’s dead.”

Marc inhales sharply and spins toward the rest of the courtyard. “Axius! Where’s my fucking high commander?”

The grizzled military man pushes through the crowd to join us. He takes in the scene, and his broad frame tenses. “Your Imperial Eminences?—”

Marc doesn’t give him a chance to finish. His voice comes out hard as the tiles beneath our feet. “You were careless in your job once, and I gave you a second chance. I won’t make that mistake again. When we reach Vivencia, you can consider yourself relieved of duty, and I’ll be looking for a new imperial military advisor—one who won’t let assassins slip past his watch.”

He slides his arm right around me and guides me toward the waystation, ignoring the guards who trail after us. “Let’s get you somewhere quiet. The shock— Blast them all. Are you sure you’re all right?”

I inhale deeply to steady myself. I was a little shaken by the woman’s sudden violence. And what did she mean about being on the “right side”? Does she think I’m on the wrong side?

Sides of what ?

I don’t trust the man beside me enough to share my confusion with him. Instead, I simply say, “It was startling, but I was prepared for hostility. Just not quite that much. It’ll only take a few moments for my nerves to settle.”

As we pass through the waystation door, Marc lets out a rough sound. “You shouldn’t have been prepared, because you shouldn’t be confronting hostile parties on your own in the first place.”

He says nothing further on that subject until he’s ushered me into my small but comfortable bedroom on the second floor. A fire is already crackling in the hearth, its heat welcome even if the sight of the flames makes my pulse stutter momentarily.

Marc guides me over to the lush bedspread and sits down next to me. He brings his hand to the side of my face, his gray eyes more stormy with emotion than I’ve ever seen them. “What were you thinking, Aurelia? This is what we have guards for . If you suspect someone wishes you harm, you let the people who’ve trained for that job step in.”

He looks so distraught I can’t suppress a pang of guilt.

I take his other hand in mine. “I really am fine. I thought it’d be harder for her to lie if she was faced with the person she’d meant to hurt. Which I suppose did turn out to be true. I only underestimated her boldness.”

Marc sputters a chuckle. He strokes his thumb across my cheek, holding my gaze. “My fierce, unshakeable, pacifist empress. In all my life… I wasn’t expecting when we started…”

He trails off, his brow knitting. I’ve never heard him at such a loss of words before.

“I’m sorry I worried you,” I offer.

The apology earns me another chuckle, this one not quite as rough as the first. “I don’t know if I should ask you to stop amazing me, because I wouldn’t want you to be less amazing. I might simply wish it involved a minimum of life-threatening circumstances. I don’t know what I’d do…”

He pauses again with an audible swallow. My skin tingles as if an unseen energy has coursed through the air.

Marc turns his other hand to twine his fingers with mine. “I love you.”

The words are so unexpected that I can only blink at him. One word of my own tumbles out of me. “What?”

Possibly not quite the response a husband hopes to receive when making such a declaration to his wife.

But Marc smiles wryly and tips his head closer so he can claim a brief kiss. “I know it probably wasn’t what either of us thought we’d be getting out of this arrangement. I can’t say I’m sorry for it, though. Perhaps I’ll manage to amaze you enough in time that you can say the same back to me.”

He kisses me again, swift but tender, before getting to his feet. “Get as much sleep as you can. You can trust in the guards at your door. I need to go see if there’s anyone else who deserves to be run through tonight.”

He strides off, leaving his confession still ringing in my ears and a sharper pang of guilt lodged in my gut.