Chapter 51
Chapter Fifty-One
Aurelia
N obles in fancy dresses prance and whirl all around me. The crowd of them in the ballroom is dizzying.
I’ve gotten so used to the smaller traveling court that I forgot just how immense the full palace assembly could be. Especially with so many having timed their arrival to welcome their emperor back home.
Dancing with a bulging belly has become rather cumbersome, but Linus shows no sign of concern for his wife’s potential discomfort. He presses as close to me as he can, his smile sharp and his grip on my hand crushing. I can practically see him imagining how he’ll smash my skull.
When he releases me, I make it through a couple of awkward dances with tentative noblemen and then retreat to one of the chairs set along the wall. As I sink onto the cushioned surface, a cramp like the one that hit me this morning radiates through my abdomen.
Just more of my body’s preparations. And I likely have weeks more of them to look forward to, on top of all the other aches and pains.
Why do people call pregnancy a joy?
Ignoring the fading pang, I scan the crowd until I manage to catch Bianca’s eyes. If I’m going to make it through the next few weeks, I have other sorts of preparations to make.
When I smile at her with a slight tick of my head, she glides over to sit next to me. A furrow forms in her brow. “I hope you’re well? The dancing isn’t too much of a strain?”
“Not as long as I take my breaks as I need them.” I breathe deeply and adjust my position on the chair. “I was hoping you might do me a favor that would give me an additional reprieve.”
Bianca lifts her chin without hesitation. “Of course. Whatever you need. Gods know I owe you plenty.”
My smile turns crooked. “I wouldn’t normally ask this of you, but now that we’re home, I’d like to have just one night to myself, uninterrupted, so I can properly rest. If you could invite my husband back to your bedroom after a few more dances, I’d much appreciate it.”
To the vicerine’s credit, she looks vaguely puzzled that I’d have any concern about making the request. I suppose she has entertained Marclinus that way so many times in the past, it must seem a little absurd that I’d worry about her agreement.
She still doesn’t think she has much worth here in court beyond who she sleeps with, however little she enjoys it. That’s one more thing I’d like to fix… if I get the chance to.
“If that’s what you’d like, I’m sure I can entice him,” she says. “But I don’t expect he’ll stay once the act is done. He’s always shooed me from his bed rather quickly in the past.”
“I have something to help with that.” I dip my hand into the pouch at my hip and press a couple of small items into her palm, the swell of my belly hiding the motion from view. “Eat this tablet before you invite him. Add the lip paint to your mouth afterward. You won’t be affected, but he may doze off before you’ve even finished attending to him.”
Bianca stares at me. I brace myself for dismay or even revulsion. She could decide her loyalties won’t be stretched that far and raise a fuss.
But I’m taking the chance because I think this is one matter where we understand each other perfectly: the strain of catering to men whose pawing leaves you cold. I doubt she can imagine I’d have violent plans for my husband any more than Lorenzo or Bastien could bring themselves to believe I’d murdered Emperor Tarquin before I told them so.
My assumption is confirmed by the brightening of her face. She tucks my offerings into her own belt pouch and gives my arm a quick squeeze. “Thank you for trusting me. You freed me for ten years—the least I can do is free you for one night.”
A strange twinge passes through my chest, like a stone dropped into a still pond. As much as Bianca might consider me her friend—as much as she might act like one—she doesn’t know who I really am any more than the rest of the court does.
I soften my smile again with my genuine gratitude. “I’m glad we can count on one another. Take care with him. He’s still in a bit of a mood.”
The vicerine gives a cavalier shrug. “I’m used to all of them. May you sleep in peace.”
She gets up and sashays back onto the dance floor with no idea how little I expect to be sleeping tonight.
After another song, I push myself onto my feet too. I submit myself to one more dance with Linus that feels more like a threat than a seduction. When he releases me, a marchion takes me on a careful turn around the floor.
At the corner of my vision, I see Bianca approach Linus. She tilts her head in her coy way, popping her hip to emphasize her voluptuous figure, and my husband immediately prowls closer.
They share one dance before she draws him away from the ballroom. I wait through a couple more songs and then slip away myself.
In my chambers, I loosen the bodice of my dress enough to slide on the metal-laced vest Raul gave me under it. When dealing with either half of Marclinus, I don’t think I can be too careful.
Sprite lifts her head from her chosen spot at the corner of my bed, and I give her a few quick strokes to reassure her. When she settles back down with a pleased purr, I gather my composure.
My ring’s secret compartment is already filled with the same sedative that permeates the lip paint I gave Bianca, only in a higher concentration. I adjust the ring in its new position on my hand and press the spot on the wall that opens the hidden panel.
Lorenzo is already waiting on the other side. As he reaches out to help me into the passage, my heart thumps faster.
We’re really doing this. We’re going to kill an emperor tonight—if only half of the pair currently holding the title.
We move along the dim, narrow hall as stealthily as my body allows. Lorenzo doesn’t extend his illusionary voice, but his hand stays clasped around mine with little pulses of pressure that feel like an echo of all the promises he’s ever made.
I’m here with you. I belong to you. I’m never leaving.
It’s a short walk to the emperor’s apartment. This part of the passage hasn’t been traversed much—the dust itches at my nose.
Bastien and Raul glance over as we join them. Raul is leaning close to the outline of the panel I can just barely make out in the faint enchanted illumination.
He swivels his head toward us so we can hear his understated murmur. “The main rooms are empty. There’s one guard outside the door, but he hasn’t noticed my magic. As long as we don’t commit any actual violence in there, we should be fine. Someone’s in the secret room.”
Marc, presumably. I square my shoulders, ignoring the thud of my pulse that’s now reverberating behind my ears. “We shouldn’t waste any time, then.” It’s possible Bianca won’t manage to administer enough of the drug to keep Linus out for long. “Where does the secret room connect to the main ones?”
“Behind the built-in bookcase to the right of the bedroom fireplace. It doesn’t feel as if the wall there is very thick. If you’re close, he should be able to hear you.”
“All right.” I wet my lips and tap my fingers down my front in one final appeal to my godlen. Elox, you know I wouldn’t be doing this if I could see any other way. It’s my life or his, and only one of us will strive for peace in the end.
I glance around at my men, wishing I could immerse myself in their embraces, afraid that even a fleeting kiss would feel too much like a good-bye. “Stay here until I come back and knock, no matter what you hear.”
If this goes badly, if I end up branded a traitor, I don’t want my princes tarnished alongside me.
Bastien tips his head in a brusque nod I’m not sure I can trust, but then, it’s hard to say I could bring myself to hang back if I thought they were in trouble.
Raul slides the panel open. I step out into my husband’s private chambers for the very first time.
Unsurprisingly, his apartment is even larger than my own. I find myself in a sitting room with a cards table and a liquor cabinet, I suppose for if he feels like bringing friends of one sort or another back for a more private gathering. The scent of his usual cologne lingers in the air: the tart notes of amber overlying the smoky vetiver.
The double doors at one side of the room stand slightly ajar. I ease past them to find the bedroom.
A fire crackles in the hearth at the other end of the room, keeping the air warm for its master’s return. And perhaps keeping its other master warm in the meantime.
As I approach the neighboring bookcase, tension crawls up my chest to my throat. I force my voice past it.
“Marc?” It isn’t hard to work a quaver into my words. “Can you hear me? Please—I didn’t know where else to go. There’s no one else I can turn to.”
I hear nothing but the thunder of my heartbeat. I suck in another ragged breath. “Please, Marc. I need you. No one else is here to?—”
The bookcase swings open with the softest squeak, and Marc hurtles past it. His golden curls are more rumpled than usual, and the causal black trousers and loose gray shirt he’s wearing look like something he might have been planning to sleep in.
At the sight of him, I lose my breath completely, though it’s from fear rather than the relief I hope he takes my reaction as. I let my legs buckle.
Marc dives in to catch me before my knees hit the floor. “What’s wrong? What happened?” A fierce edge hardens his voice.
He’s so good at playing the concerned husband when he thinks I’ll still believe that act, isn’t he?
I clutch at his shoulders, at the back of his neck—which gives me the perfect opportunity to prick the tiny needle point of my ring into his flesh to deliver the sedative. “I don’t know what got into him—it happened so fast?—”
Panicked babbling doesn’t require any specifics.
Marc crouches next to me, his arms coming around my body. “I’ll take care of it. What did he do to you? Are you hurt?”
“I—I don’t know. The baby—the way he looked at me?—”
“Hey. Take a moment and breathe. You’re with me now. We’ll make sure…”
With the last few words, his firm tone slurs. He trails off, swaying slightly, the muscles in his arms twitching in confusion.
Then he sags right over onto his side. His eyelids drift shut. His body goes completely slack, like the Lavirian rebel I fought in the arena months ago to finally win my full title of empress.
Somehow this doesn’t feel like any more of a victory than that moment did.
I pull myself away from my husband and hustle back to the wall I emerged from. At my soft knock, the three princes spill out of the passage.
When I lead them wordlessly to the bedroom, Marc is sprawled on his side where I left him. Bastien grimaces at his imperial foster brother and darts past the bookcase entrance to deposit the note he drafted. As he returns, shutting the secret doorway behind him, Raul and Lorenzo grasp the fallen man by the wrists and ankles to heft him into the air.
In the space of a minute, we’ve carried my unconscious husband into the passage. The panel slides shut behind us.
To anyone who walks into Marclinus’s apartment now, it’d look as if nothing had been disturbed.
We shuffle along the winding route down two staircases to the old servants’ room. Raul and Lorenzo drape Marc’s limp body on one of the armchairs. They grab the ropes they brought in advance and bind the emperor’s forearms tightly to the chair arms, his calves to the wooden legs.
Raul pauses over the gold wedding band that hugs Marc’s right wrist. “We’re going to need to get rid of this someplace else. Maybe just leave it down here. It makes identifying him too easy.”
He dips his hand into the shadows and brings out a solidified blob of the gauzy black material his gift can shape the darkness into. In his grasp, the blob shifts into a form like garden sheers with thin, serrated blades.
His thickened shadows must be hard as steel, because when he wiggles the lower blade under the wedding band, it only takes a few squeezes between their edges to snap through the golden surface.
Raul yanks the band wide with his bare hands and tosses it onto the settee with a satisfied expression. “Let’s consider this marriage broken.”
Lorenzo stirs uneasily on his feet, peering at Marc. “Should we do away with him now? Once he wakes up…”
Bastien shakes his head. “We need him awake to find out if he’ll give away anything further about what he and Linus had planned. If they’ve already set anything in motion that could harm Aurelia—or anyone else—we’ve got to know. But if he won’t talk, we won’t wait long.”
He glances at me. “You can wake him?”
I reach into my pouch. As I step toward the man I once considered my husband with the crafted pill in my hand, my ribs seem to clench around my lungs like a hunting trap.
I don’t know how I expected to feel at this moment, but it wasn’t like this.
Ignoring the tension tangled inside me, I ease open Marc’s mouth, pop the pill onto his tongue, and shut his jaw so it can dissolve. Then I step back to discover what the emperor will make of the real me—and what his true self will prove to be.