Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Aurelia
I t isn’t hard to locate Linus in the gardens. He’s standing in the glow of a lantern by an elaborate hedge sculpture, swinging his arm as he makes the several courtiers who’ve gathered around him guffaw in apparent amusement.
His other arm is tucked around Bianca’s back where he’s drawn her over beside him. She gazes up at him through her eyelashes, but I recognize the subtle stiffness to her smile. The pinch in my gut is more sympathy for her than anything like jealousy.
Does Linus think he’s punishing me for my tardiness by showing off his affections for another woman? Or did he simply feel he couldn’t hold court without one lady or another hanging off his arm?
I stroll over to him as if I’ve simply been taking my time enjoying the palace’s sights. One of the courtiers makes a remark with a cajoling grin, and Linus’s eyes flash with an unnerving fierceness before he claps the man on the shoulder.
He’s definitely in one of his more frenetic states tonight. I’m not looking forward to having his attention fall on me again.
My gaze catches on another face among his fawners—the noblewoman Raul pointed out to me the other day as a critic of mine.
How convenient. I’ve been waiting for an ideal moment to diffuse any threat she poses. Perhaps I can deal with her and distract Linus from any sour feelings about my brief absence all in one go.
I veer to the side so I can approach their cluster of conversation near the hostile courtier. A couple of the nobles farther around the ring glance over at me, one’s gaze ticking nervously between me and the vicerine my husband is embracing, but I don’t think Lady Eugenie realizes I’m there.
Linus catches my eye with a sharper glint in his that convinces me he wants to rub Bianca’s presence in my face. He raises his voice with emphatic exuberance. “And here all you Coteans are, busy stocking your toy rooms instead of your armories!”
It’s obviously an insulting jab more than a joke, but the courtiers all break into laughter regardless. I track Lady Eugenie’s shift in posture an instant before she moves and take a swift step toward her.
The hand she was flinging out in an energetic gesture smacks into me just above my belly. The impact barely stings, but I jerk to a halt with a soft cry as if in pain.
The noblewoman flinches to the side, her dark face going rigid. “Oh, Your Imperial Highness—I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there.”
I rest my hand on the bump of my belly and feign a wince. “I’m sure… I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
Linus might be irritated with me and not all that concerned about his heir, but my wounded behavior and the break in my voice spur him to action. I suspect that in his mind, he’s the only one allowed to torment me.
Or else he sees any sign of disrespect toward his wife as extending to him as well.
He steps forward, his eyes narrowing as he frowns at Lady Eugenie. His voice stays flippant, but it takes on a cool edge. “It’s careless to pay so little attention to those around you. Do you have no concern for my wife and heir?”
I lift my hand with a purposeful quiver, taking on a humble pose. “I’m sure it was only an accident. Lady Eugenie couldn’t possibly have been looking for ways to injure me.”
Except Linus is paranoid enough to think she could have been, especially when I’ve put the idea into words. And seeing me simpering only annoys him more.
“Look at you, so good you forget to demand the respect you deserve.” He spins on the noblewoman again.
A tremor runs through Eugenie’s frame. “I do apologize—I honestly didn’t mean—a slip of the hand?—"
Linus cuts her off with a swipe through the air that’s just shy of a slap. “I don’t have any use for a babbler. And neither should your king.” He pitches his voice to carry across the room to where King Stanislas is now standing. “Your Highness, please remove this pathetic excuse for a noblewoman from my sight—preferably from the entire city until my wife and I can be free of her clumsiness.”
The Cotean king answers with a sharp nod. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry Lady Eugenie has disturbed the two of you, Your Imperial Eminences.”
He pins the noblewoman with his imposing gaze and motions her out of the room—presumably to pack up and head back to her estate for the time being.
As Lady Eugenie scurries out of the room in disgrace, I sidle closer to my husband and offer him a winning smile. “You do cut such a striking figure when you’re so decisive.”
If Linus were a bird, he’d be preening his feathers. He smirks down at me before his gaze slides to Bianca where he left her. “I do, don’t I? We must take charge of every situation to bend it in our favor. And I’ve decided I’ve had quite enough of most of this company for the evening. Vicerine, I have need of you away from these louts.”
He tucks his hand around my elbow. When Bianca saunters over, he does the same with her and leads us both toward the door.
My stomach starts to sink. I didn’t mean for my strategic compliment to prompt quite so much audacity—at least not of this nature.
Bianca prances along with a giggle as Linus leans in to nip her ear, but when he shifts his attention to me, she looks over as well with a furrow in her brow.
She’s admitted to me that she doesn’t get any physical enjoyment out of her encounters with him—and that she’d rather focus on building a friendship with me than continuing to cultivate the prestige of being the emperor’s mistress. I don’t think she imagines I’d want to share him so directly. But she’s in even less of a position to protest than I am.
I can’t risk revealing the secret of how I’d normally evade his carnal interest, no matter how loyal she’s proven to be so far. It was only months ago that she wanted me dead.
I’d be handing the easiest means to accomplish that goal right to her. What if she changes her mind about which of her rulers serves her ends best?
I knew I might have to endure my husband’s full attentions at some point. The men I actually love assured me they wouldn’t see it as a betrayal. But to have it happen like this, performing in front of a woman I’ve started to consider a friend…
My stomach churns. As my queasiness at the situation grows, it sets off a spark of inspiration.
The initial nausea of my pregnancy has faded… but Linus doesn’t know that. I have a perfect excuse for any involuntary bodily reactions that might disrupt the interlude he’s planning.
As long as I can convince my body to comply.
With each step through the halls, I put on a mask of eager obedience and focus on the lurching of my gut. I dredge up the memories of the frog pitchers’ fetid stink, the viscous squish of the bog’s mud, the bloody mangled limbs of the Rionians who handled the tolk coral, the trial when Linus forced us to eat until our stomachs rebelled.
The churning intensifies. A clammy sweat breaks out on my forehead, but Linus gives no sign of noticing my discomfort. He simply gropes at my ass with another leering guffaw.
We cross the small courtyard between the two palaces and climb the stairs to the imperial wing. I place my steps with just enough force for the impact to resonate through my uneasy belly. A sour tang collects at the back of my mouth.
There are plenty of ingredients that can be used to empty the contents of a patient’s stomach if they’ve ingested a substance best expelled as quickly as possible. I won’t have the chance to concoct any potions, but I bring to mind the noxious scents and flavors with all the vividness my imagination can provide.
My stomach lurches harder with my next steps. I think I can prompt that final heave.
Linus pushes open the door to my chambers and motions us onward. Before we’ve even reached the bed, he’s already tugging off his shirt. “Let’s see how my two favorite ladies can please me together. We should have done this much sooner!”
He nudges Bianca down on the bedspread and mashes his mouth against hers. His hand jerks at his belt.
I call up the memory of bitter odor of the potion I was brewing when I first realized I was pregnant… and the image of having to wrap my mouth around his engorged member.
Linus turns to me with a sneering grin, his cock swaying at half-mast, and that visual is enough.
I double over. The spew of my vomit splatters across his trousers and boots.
Linus yelps and scrambles backward, too late. Chunks of my half-digested dinner cling to his clothes and drip onto the floor.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he mutters, staring down at himself with his lips twisted in disgust.
After the sickness I’ve induced, I don’t need to fake the quaver in my voice. “Gods above, I’m so sorry. The baby—my stomach never feels quite right these days—Sometimes it comes over me so quickly?—”
“Yes, yes, but you could fucking well aim it away from me.” Linus flails with a few frantic gestures but determines he can’t magic the vomit off him by sheer force of will. “Of all the ways to ruin the mood. Fuck. ” He glowers at me for a moment before stalking back to the door.
His voice carries back to us as he strides off down the hall, shouting to whatever staff must be nearest. “Get the servants running a bath in my apartment. And a change of clothes laid out. Fast!”
With the thud of the door finalizing his departure, I sag down on the side of the bed. I accomplished what I needed to, but my stomach is still roiling after all that working up to the act.
Bianca touches my shoulder tentatively. “Let’s ensure you’re well, and then we’ll call the cleaning staff to take care of the mess in here.”
I swipe at my mouth. “It’s all right. I can?—”
“No,” she says before I can go on. “Come along. An empress shouldn’t have to tend to herself while she’s ill.”
She leads me over to the bathroom and pours me a glass of water while I wash my face. Her gaze flicks toward my trunks. “Do you have any cures I can get out for you that will help with the nausea?”
I swish the water in my mouth, clearing the lingering prickle of stomach acid. “I don’t think I need that right now. There’s usually something of a calm after a storm, so to speak.” And now that the storm’s had a chance to settle, the lingering nausea has faded.
But my companion’s concern hasn’t.
I glance over at her. “Thank you. I didn’t mean to entangle you in so much unpleasantness.”
Bianca catches my eyes with a firm expression that suggests she knows I mean more than the vomiting. “I’ve had far more trouble from him plenty of times than I did from you tonight. Surely the empress should be allowed a few awkward moments when she’s in such a delicate condition without needing to apologize?”
The corner of my lips ticks upward. “Thank you all the same.”
“That’s why you need friends. Proper ones, not all the toadies grasping for favors. Now sit there and rest while I get a maid.”
As she bustles out of the room, a lump rises in my throat.
Somehow, we really have become friends, haven’t we? But I can’t imagine how I’ll ever be able to trust her with even a portion of who I really am.