Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Aurelia
M y husband pops the last of the berries from the breakfast spread into his mouth and smacks his lips extravagantly. “So juicy and sweet! But not quite as fantastic a feast as my darling wife.”
He glances at me with lowered eyelids. The narrowing of his eyes feels more ominous than flirtatious to me, and I can’t say his squeeze of my thigh beneath the table tips the balance in the other direction.
“I’m not sure I’ve had my fill yet,” he adds, still loud enough for the entire main table to hear.
It takes every shred of my self-control not to stiffen at the implication of his words. Is he going to drag me off to my bedroom right now? Make a display of claiming me on the table like he nearly did a couple of weeks ago in the waystation?
The elderly viceroy at his other side lets out a bellow of a laugh. “Ah, young love—and lusts. It’s good to see you in such high spirits, Your Imperial Majesty. You must be pleased with your confirmation.”
Marclinus’s gaze flicks to the other man. “Indeed. We have much more celebrating to look forward to today. I suppose I should practice a little moderation.”
His feral grin suggests the “little” will be miniscule.
I force a smile onto my own face through another pawing of my thigh. I hope my intense study of my husband’s expression and demeanor comes across as adoring rather than incisive.
If what the man I spoke to last night said is true, I have to think the one I’m dining with now is Linus, his twin whose inclinations tend toward “fraternizing and flirting.” It certainly isn’t hard to assume he’s a different person altogether from the coolly purposeful husband I spoke to late last night.
But is he really, or is it only a new game being played by one man in an attempt to provoke me? I can’t see any definitive difference in the set of their chiseled features or the shape of their well-built bodies.
Regardless of whether that husband is one man or two, I have to behave the same way. Pretend I’m unfazed and feeling as warmly as ever toward the man beside me. Show no sign that I’d very much like to see him murdered.
It’s really too early to have him offed anyway. I need several more months before the heir growing inside me is born, before I’ll be solid in the empire’s support.
“What festivities are we enjoying today, husband?” I ask.
Marclinus sweeps his hand through the air extravagantly. “We’re due at the arena at the tenth bell. I thought it’d be a thrill for the common folk to get to tread on that venerable ground themselves alongside us. We’ll have the music and refreshments and whatnot to set the right mood. No bloodshed today.”
He tugs on a loop of my upswept hair and chuckles. I suppose if he isn’t the man who fought in the arena yesterday morning, Marc filled him in on all the details of my performance. Not that either of them have shown any sign of concern for the injuries I sustained before the medic on call healed them.
If this is a different man than the one I spoke to last… is he deliberately trying to provoke me? Maybe he’s acting even more manic and lustful than usual to see how I’ll react after last night’s revelations, if they were nothing more than a scheme to test me.
Or maybe, as the viceroy suggested, he’s simply in high spirits now that he’s completed every step to being accepted as the new emperor. I have to be careful not to tumble too far into paranoia myself.
A marchion gets up from his seat a couple down from mine and brushes past my chair on his way to the door, with a respectful dip of his head to both me and his emperor. My husband’s gaze tracks him with a sudden icy glint that makes me abruptly nervous bloodshed might be on the menu after all.
“Otho!” he calls over. “Don’t be so hasty in leaving. Surely you haven’t feasted your eyes on my wife for quite long enough.”
The marchion jerks back toward us, his expression twitching with a flicker of panic. Was he looking at me any more than is usual, or is this simply more of the delusions Marc mentioned last night?
Otho bobs his head again, his tone uncertain. “Her Imperial Highness always looks lovely.”
It’s as neutral a remark as he could safely give, avoiding the insult of saying he wouldn’t want to look at me without any implication that he’s personally invested. My husband doesn’t seem to take it that way, though.
Marclinus—Linus?—bares more teeth with his grin. “I’m glad you think so. For her entertainment and that of all Vivencia’s people, perhaps we should have a bit of additional fun in the arena. Why don’t you face off against a leopard or a wolf for our spectators? I assume you know your way around a sword at least a little.”
What color was left in Marchion Otho’s face drains away. He isn’t that confident a swordsman. But there’s not much he can say without risking a worse punishment.
“I’d be honored to test my skills for Your Imperial Majesty,” he says. “I’ll make sure I’m prepared.”
As he hustles off, my stomach knots. My husband’s unstated jealousy is finally focused on parties other than the princes I’ve actually fallen for, but I can’t say I like seeing anyone tormented.
I keep a placid expression and lift my eyebrows at Marclinus. “I hadn’t noticed his attention. Do you think I have some reason to be worried about him?”
Marclinus guffaws. “Not after today.” He pushes to his feet. “Why don’t you see to whatever other preparations you’d want to make before displaying yourself to the city? There’s only a little time.”
There is, but I don’t intend to spend it adding more powder to my face or pins to my hair.
As I stand, I turn my body so my right hand is clearly visible to Prince Lorenzo, who’s sitting several seats down on the other side of the table. With a few subtle gestures that should look as if I’m just fidgeting with my skirt, I aim a message his way. You three meet below.
Hoping he caught my signs, too cautious to even glance toward him, I glide out of the dining room.
In my apartment with my ever-present guards posted outside the door, I pause just long enough to assure my one maid who’s lingered that I’d like my solitude before the chaos of the festivities and to give Sprite a quick scratch under her chin. After the maid has departed and I’ve set the tabby kitten on the bedspread to curl up purring, I go to the wall next to my bedside table.
At a press of my fingers in just the right spot, a hidden panel whispers open. I slip inside and shut it again.
The enchantment that lights the palace’s inner passageways exudes a faint illumination over the narrow space. My gown rustles against the rough wooden walls as I hurry through the secret halls and down even stuffier staircases to the room where the servants used to enter.
I find the abandoned space vacant other than the drab, mismatched furniture. My princes must have been careful not to leave too closely after me.
After tapping on the magic-fueled lantern left behind from other meetings, I drift from one end of the small room to the other. Even though I’ve only been out of bed for a couple of hours, a wave of exhaustion rolls over me.
It’s partly due to my pregnancy, but at least as much because of my broken sleep and the new fears weighing on me.
At the sigh of the panel opening again, I spin toward the entrance.
Prince Bastien steps out first, the thin light setting his pale skin in sharp contrast with his auburn hair and pine-green eyes. For all his strict and sensible airs, a smile springs to his lips.
He strides straight to me and tugs me close to his lean chest. “I didn’t know how much longer I could stand staying away from you.”
A lump rises in my throat as the same sentiment echoes through me. This is the first time we’ve been able to speak properly since he and his foster brothers watched me in my near-fatal battle in the arena yesterday.
Bastien had to hold himself back while not just me but his future son or daughter were nearly cut down in the confirmation rite for Sabrelle. Only the four of us know that the child I’m carrying is actually his.
The thought sends a flutter of warmth through me, wrapping around my womb. Even though we’ll have to hide the truth, the life newly growing inside me represents the love and devotion we’ve found in each other.
A love that encompasses more than just the two of us. As Bastien tips his head to mine for an emphatic kiss, a low chuckle carries from behind him. “Make a little room for the rest of us, will you?”
I kiss prince of Cotea back just as eagerly before turning toward Prince Raul’s massive frame. The man who’s been both warrior and rake grins down at me, his cocoa-brown hair pulled back from his tawny face in its usual short ponytail.
“Our fierce Shepherdess,” he says in a tone that’s all admiration. He trails his fingers along my jaw and dips his head to claim a kiss of his own.
I let myself escape into his passionate embrace for a fleeting moment, his musky scent wrapping around me. But I can’t forget the third man who’s waiting for my attention.
I ease back from Raul and step into Lorenzo’s arms, hugging my sweet musician as tightly as his foster brothers.
The prince of Rione catches my mouth for a lingering kiss. When he draws back, he keeps one set of deep brown fingers clasped around mine. His equally dark eyes hold my gaze as he signs a question with his other hand—an easier way for the mute prince to speak than with the illusions his gift can conjure.
Are you all right?
I swallow thickly, the impact of all the things I’ve been through and learned in the past twenty-four hours pressing down on me again. “I am, but I’ve found out some things… I needed to talk to you all right away.”
Bastien’s brow furrows with concern. “What’s happened?”
Raul has already slipped his hand around my elbow. “Come sit down while you tell us. You’ll be on your feet enough the rest of the day.”
He, Lorenzo, and I squeeze together onto the settee, Lorenzo tucking me close against his muscular body with his arm around my waist. Bastien sinks into the armchair next to us, his eyes gone even darker.
Despite their obvious apprehension, I feel secure in a way I haven’t since Marc confessed his secret to me last night.
These three men have stood with me through all the horrors I’ve faced in the past two months. They ensured that I could complete the trials without destroying the principles I hold dear and put their lives on the line to protect everything that’s important to me.
Whatever this revelation means for us and our intention to transform the empire, I know I won’t face the coming days alone.
I drag a breath into my lungs. “Last night after we left the festivities in the city, I told Marclinus that I’m pregnant. And he told me something that sounds absolutely crazy. I’m not sure whether to even believe it.”
As I lay out everything the man who called himself simply Marc said, from his father’s concealing the fact that his mother died giving birth to twins to their regular switch-offs throughout their childhood and on to Marc’s current desire to murder Linus, Lorenzo’s eyes widen. Raul mutters a few curses to himself.
Bastien simply stares at me, his stance tensed. When I’m finished, he rakes his fingers into his rumpled hair. “Gods above, that’s mad. But… it isn’t totally unbelievable. I remember a few times when we were kids that Marclinus would forget something we’d talked about just a few hours ago. I assumed he was either being difficult on purpose or he hadn’t bothered to pay attention, but it could have been it wasn’t even the same him .”
Lorenzo nods slowly. His illusionary voice travels into my head in its usual resonant baritone. “I can think of a couple of times something similar happened to me. He’d have mocked me or tripped me up and then the next time I saw him, it was like it’d never happened.”
Raul lets out a bark of laughter. “Maybe that’s how he’s stayed up to all hours drinking and entertaining his ladies but then been up sharp as anything in the morning. I thought he’d just been blessed with an unfairly adaptable constitution on top of everything else the prick didn’t deserve.”
I lean into Lorenzo’s embrace as I glance from Raul to Bastien. “So, you think he was telling the truth? This wild story isn’t just some new way of keeping me on my toes?”
Bastien grimaces. “I don’t think we can say for sure with what we know at this point. And even if Marclinus is two men, that doesn’t mean they didn’t conspire together to reveal their secret and dangle a murder plot in front of you for their own strategic purposes.”
“That’s right.” Raul slips his hand around mine and grips it tightly. “All this talk about helping one kill the other… They could be testing whether you’re willing to turn on either of them. The moment you agree, bam, you’re a traitor.”
“That’s partly why I refused.” I tip back my head with a groan of frustration. “Just when I think I’ve gotten to more stable ground, he pulls the rug out from under me again.”
Lorenzo nuzzles my hair. “We’ll figure it out. He doesn’t know that you have three extra sets of eyes and three powerful gifts on your side. If he does lash out at you again, we’ll deflect him as well as we can.”
Raul’s smile comes back. “That’s right. He has no idea who he’s really up against. And it doesn’t really matter who he is either way, does it? If there are two of the assholes, you need to off them both. More complicated, but it doesn’t change who’s the enemy.”
“No.” I sit up a little straighter, girding myself. “My first job is figuring out who we’re really up against. I need a way to confirm whether I’m actually married to two different men.” I pause. “And in the meantime, we shouldn’t be distracted from our original plans. Neven pledged his support there… Do you think we should tell him what I’ve learned?”
Bastien rubs his mouth. “I don’t like keeping secrets from him again, but we don’t really know what’s true or what the full danger might be. Considering his temper, I’m not sure it’s worth the risk, at least not yet. We can still keep him in the loop otherwise, working with us to continue to build support for you—encouraging good will around the palace and in the city. We’ll make sure Dariu is eager to accept you as the sole ruler when the time comes.”
“And keep watch for anyone who doesn’t have your best interests at heart—who might interfere with that goal,” Raul adds.
My thoughts dart back to my husband’s display of jealousy at breakfast. I don’t think Otho had any designs toward me either way, but other members of the court have been hostile in the past.
A wry smile of my own crosses my lips. “Perhaps we can let my husband take care of some of my detractors without even realizing it. Catch him in a mood when he’s inclined to lash out, and all we have to do is point him at an ideal target.”
Raul chuckles. “And that kind of thinking is exactly why he doesn’t stand a chance against you. We’ll clear the court of dissenters and prime everyone who’s left to welcome you in his place, so the moment you’re ready for him to fall, all you’ll need to do is sit on that throne.”