A Dance of Shadows (The Royal Spares #3)

Chapter 54

Chapter Fifty-Four

Bastien

“ B ring him water,” Raul mutters as we tramp down the staircase to the lowest room in the network of hidden passages. “Shepherdess or not, she’s still got a little lamb in her.”

“It’s not being a lamb,” Lorenzo retorts. “She has principles. Besides, if we do need something more from him, it wouldn’t help our cause to let him die of thirst.”

None of their comments sit easy in me. A vague sense of dread gnaws at the back of my mind.

What could we need from Marc? It was obvious he was sticking to his story that he’d turned against his twin after all. We can hardly release him after we’ve tied him up and threatened to kill him.

Aurelia’s quick mind has often worked a few steps ahead of our own, but in this particular case… I have to agree that her decision may be based more on sentiment than reason.

She never wanted to kill her husband. She kept us at a distance for months, staying committed to her marriage until he convinced her that there was no possibility of swaying him.

If she’s seen even a glimmer of hope that he’s not a total terror, will she be able to bring herself to do what’s necessary?

It may come down to us in the end, no matter what promises we made to her. The new version of the empire we mean to create is ours too.

But perhaps the sharpest teeth in that gnawing sensation come from the memory of Marc’s expression in the moments after her final confession. His acceptance of her “conquering,” his apparent regret that he hadn’t recognized her true strength.

He didn’t sound as if he was regretting it only because otherwise he’d have had the means to murder her instead.

“He’s had almost the whole night to stew on the things she told him,” Raul says as we reach the panel. “We’ll see how mad he’s gone in the meantime. The easier he makes her choice, the better.”

He opens the door, steps out into the shadowed space—and stalls in his tracks. “ Fuck .”

I scramble out after him and jerk to a halt myself, my dread clawing into my stomach.

The chair Marc was tied to lies on its side, both of the wooden arms broken into splintered stumps. Coils of rope lie on the floor near its toppled feet.

Raul holds out his arm to stop the rest of us from moving. His eyes narrow with concentration as he must be extending his gift through the dark space.

It only takes one thud of my heart before he confirms it. “He isn’t here. He must have seen how we opened the panel and escaped through the passages.” He marches forward and touches the cushioned seat of the chair. “It’s still a bit warm. He hasn’t been gone long.”

Lorenzo’s gaze sweeps over the room, his eyes wide. “Where would he have gone? Back to the hidden room in the emperor’s apartment? He wouldn’t roam around the palace while Linus is acting as emperor too, would he?”

My voice comes out tight. “That depends on whether he thinks keeping his secret is more important than exposing Aurelia’s crimes. We can’t count on that.”

The dread twists around my gut like strands of chilly seaweed meaning to drag me down, but I tense against the pang of despair.

We’re not beaten yet. We got this far.

We still have some tricks up our sleeves that Marc doesn’t even know about.

I spin toward Raul. “Use your gift to search all the passages. If he isn’t hiding there, we’ll check the emperor’s apartment. We find him, and we kill him.”

He’s proven himself to be an undeniable threat. Even Aurelia couldn’t blame us for putting him down rather than leaving him on the loose to do gods know what.

Raul pivots toward the panel we’ve left open. His expression hardens as he stretches his awareness through the shadows that permeate the secret hallways.

It shouldn’t be hard to locate Marc if he’s lurking in them. The narrow passages would be utterly empty other than him.

Raul’s search of the network through the rest of the palace takes a minute. With a grimace, he shakes his head. “No one’s there. Let’s go up to his usual hiding spot.”

His search of the secret room beyond the imperial bedroom takes much less time. He pauses for the space of a breath and then exhales in a huff. “That room is empty too—the whole apartment is. Both of the twins are running around out in the open.”

Lorenzo glances at me, his brow knit. He took the lead for our initial plan for dealing with Marc, but I’ve usually been the one figuring out the logistics of our strategies, advising on what the most practical or viable approach is.

We certainly can’t trust Raul to come up with a scheme that’s based more on wisdom than bravado.

I lay out the facts for my own benefit as much as theirs. “Linus is presenting himself as the emperor. Unless Marc wants to reveal their secret, he’ll have to stay concealed to some extent. We haven’t heard any commotion beyond the walls, so I think we should assume no incredibly gossip-worthy news is traveling through the palace before breakfast.”

Raul raises an eyebrow, but his rigid stance offsets the wryness of his tongue. “So we look for some prick who’s pretending not to be the emperor?”

I draw my own posture up straighter. “We’ll make our way through the whole palace, watching for anyone who’s trying to avoid notice or disguise their face. You can keep reaching out through the shadows into rooms that should be empty, in case he’s hiding to bide his time. And when we find him…”

My voice takes on an edge of grim satisfaction. “He won’t have his guards with him. He won’t be the emperor. As long as we leave him unidentifiable, we can take care of him as if he was a hostile intruder we were protecting the rest of the palace from.”

A cold grin curves Raul’s lips. Lorenzo nods with a flash of determination in his dark eyes.

We emerge through our usual entrance in the unused bedroom and stalk through the halls at a pace not quite so brisk it can’t look casual. Lorenzo and I peer into the common rooms while Raul applies his gift to their nooks and crannies and the closed rooms we pass.

Every time he shakes his head, we walk on.

The smells of poached eggs and roasted pork drift through the halls from the kitchen where the staff are preparing breakfast. My pulse thuds faster with the realization that we may have less than an hour to continue our search before our presence would be expected at the day’s first meal… and our absence might be noted if we don’t appear.

What can Marc mean to do? If he wants to resume his arrangement with Linus, wouldn’t he have returned to their apartment?

But he knows we know about the hidden room. He might not have felt secure going there. Perhaps he’s waiting until he can speak to his twin without being noticed.

Where other than their private rooms might he hope to catch Linus alone? The more manic twin hasn’t been in the habit of spending time in the imperial offices or the library. Marc can’t come up with such an impressive disguise that he’d be able to stroll up to his brother with half the court looking on, can he?

He might have slipped into one of the smaller sitting rooms near the larger common spaces and be hoping he can signal Linus when the other man passes in the hall.

The nobles will be gathering in the dining room next. I veer down the hallway toward that room, my foster brothers trailing behind me.

Several members of the court are ambling toward the dining-room entrance. I catch a few excited murmurs about “the heir” and “his daughter,” but nothing worthy of concern. Everyone’s still occupied with the knowledge that Aurelia has given birth.

To my daughter.

At the memory of the tiny, fragile form that nestled in Aurelia’s arms, my hands ball at my sides. I’m not letting any harm come to either of them, no matter what I have to do.

We pause by the doorway, Lorenzo and I taking a quick look inside the dining room and Raul surveying the rooms on the other side of the hall. As I draw back with frustration prickling through my gut, a familiar figure comes into view at the far end of the hall—but not the man we were seeking.

Neven slows his pace as he approaches us. I offer him a companionable nod, though my body has tensed.

It used to be that this kid was under our protection too. Now he isn’t really a kid anymore… and I don’t know what to expect from him.

Jurnus guide me, it feels so wrong to think of him as a potential enemy.

I thought the divine appeal out of habit rather than expecting a response, but as Neven pauses in front of us, the light wavers in the hall’s sconces. In the instant after I blink, a glowing streak seems to wind around Neven’s shoulders and flow on toward me, like a rope I could grasp. As if I could drag him with us.

The image fades, leaving only Neven’s scowling face. He considers the three of us with a flex of his broad shoulders. “What are you doing wandering around the halls?”

Raul lets out a slight scoffing sound. “Can’t a few friends go for a walk to shoot the breeze? Breakfast isn’t ready yet.”

Neven’s mouth tightens, and something in me balks. No, Raul’s rancor isn’t the right way to bring our younger foster brother back into the fold. We need to steer him along—not with a literal rope, but with the closest thing I can find that would feel like his own choice.

More like a gust of wind nudging him in the right direction.

The prospect becomes a little more urgent with his next words. “You’re up to something, aren’t you? More little ploys that won’t really do anything. I bet it’d earn me something useful if I sounded the alarm.”

The suggestion jabs me right through the stomach with a queasy lurch, but it doesn’t surprise me.

That’s right. What Neven really wants is to feel he’s made a difference—put his might toward a winning cause.

We can give him that. We’re right on the verge to altering the entire course of the empire permanently.

Lorenzo reaches toward Neven with a twist of his hand in appeal. I speak up before Raul can add his own thoughts that will no doubt match the caustic flare of his eyes.

“Earn you something from whom?” I ask, quiet but firm. “A psychotic emperor who enjoys stabbing those closest to him in the back? That doesn’t sound like much of a reward.”

I’ve kept my voice low enough that neither the nobles nor guards farther down the hall can hear, but Neven’s gaze ticks nervously toward them anyway. Then he fixes me with a defiant glare. “Better than scrounging around like rats just waiting to be exterminated.”

I step closer to him, ignoring the few inches of height he has on me. Remembering how Aurelia loomed on Marc when we had him tied to that chair, unbalanced and tired but so fierce it didn’t matter.

Might is what you make it.

I lower my voice even more. “What if he’s the one who’ll end up exterminated? We’re looking for the emperor right now—and he doesn’t have his guards. We can bring all our powers to bear. Yours could come in awfully handy.”

Neven’s lips part with a slackening of his jaw. For a second, I think he’s going to come out of his shock with a yell in alarm. Raul makes a noise of consternation.

Then an eager light sparks in the young prince’s face. He laughs, a little breathlessly. “You’re joking.”

Raul’s mouth crooks upward at the hope in Neven’s tone. “Not even slightly.”

I prod his chest. “What do you think, Neven? Are you actually ready to fight?”

He lifts his chin, his muscles flexing. “Fuck, yes. Just point me at him, and we’ll get this done.”