Chapter 45
Chapter Forty-Five
Aurelia
T he tap of my bedroom door closing yanks me out of slumber. My gaze jerks toward the doorway.
As I blink hard to clear the bleariness from my eyes, a figure comes into hazy focus amid the darkness. At the sight of the imperial purple shirt and golden-blond curls, my body tenses more before I can catch my reaction.
The man has stopped in his tracks. He raises his hand in a calming gesture, speaking in a low but strained voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I only—I needed to see that you’re all right.”
It’s Marc, not Linus returning with some new torment. My muscles sag back into the mattress. “I’m fine,” I mumble. Only too exhausted to have much of a conversation.
Marc shifts his weight on his feet. “I’ll let you get your sleep. Can I stay?”
The question startles me into slightly sharper awareness. My husband is asking my permission to share my bed?
He’d rather lie here beside me to do nothing other than sleep than sprawl out with full freedom in his own bedroom?
A strange pang resonates through my heart. I can’t think of any clear reason to deny him.
I press my head deeper into the pillow. “Of course.”
As I drift off again, I’m only vaguely aware of Marc slipping under the covers on the other side of the bed.
When I wake the second time, to morning sunlight spilling through a gap in the curtains, the brief conversation feels like a dream. At least, it does until I move to stretch my arms and register the weight of a tentative hand resting on my side.
Marc stirs at my movement and eases a little closer, the warmth of his body spreading over me beneath the covers through the space he’s still left between us. As if he’s unsure of his welcome.
When is either version of my husband ever uncertain of anything?
His hand remains on my side, with a slow stroke of his thumb across my waist over the silk of my nightgown.
Is he going to pursue a more intimate interlude now that I’m rested? I’m not sure it’s early enough that I could get away with putting him back to sleep for another couple of hours.
“Good morning,” I murmur cautiously.
“Good?” Marc repeats with the strained edge I remember from last night. He pulls himself tight against my back, though his arm is still careful as he loops it around the bulge of my belly. He tucks his head against my hair.
The strain gives way to steely fury. “He buried you.”
Oh. That’s why the late-night visit—that’s why he’s being so gentle with me. His twin must have filled him in on yesterday’s events when they traded off places.
Apparently Marc wasn’t at all happy about what he heard.
His anger can only work in my favor, but I know he likes me best strong rather than shrinking. “I made it through the ordeal with no permanent harm done.”
I can’t say it’s even the worst thing Linus has ever done to me. Hasn’t even Marc done worse in the past?
Either he’s being selective in his memories or he thinks nothing before his confirmation ceremony counts. He lets out a strangled sound. “It was a horrific thing to do in the first place. I nearly punched him in the face—but then I’d have had to punch myself so the bruises matched.”
He hugs me tighter with a muttered curse. “There’s only so much I can do here while we’re surrounded by people who aren’t really our own. But as soon as we’re back in Vivencia—I swear you’ll never have to worry about him again. You don’t have to worry about anything at all. Between my gift and all I’ve learned, I can handle it.”
Marc said something similar before, but not quite so emphatically. Is he really confirming that he’s going to remove Linus from the equation?
Asking that grisly question doesn’t seem like something the woman he wants to protect would do. My heart leaps all the same.
In a few weeks’ time, I might be rid of one half of my remaining obstacles to the throne. The half that’s set on spreading as much awfulness through the empire as he can.
I rest my arm over Marc’s. “You know I’m well-practiced in patience, husband.”
He chuckles roughly. “And I’m a lucky man for it.”
As it becomes clear that he doesn’t seem inclined to do anything but cuddle, some of the lingering tension inside me dissipates. My mind starts whirling through the revelations that came to me yesterday—the thoughts of what extreme lengths I might need to go to to truly end the empire’s tyranny.
I have some idea what troubles I want to heal in the conquered countries, but it’s clear the consequences might be greater than I anticipated. And I need to consider Dariu as well. As much as I’ve resented the Darium people for their disregard of the outer territories, I doubt most of the ordinary citizens realize what it’s like for those beyond their borders.
They don’t deserve to be left in ruin for acting out of ignorance rather than malice. Regardless of what happens to the rest of the empire—regardless of whether it even remains when I’m through—I will still be their empress.
I meant to pry at this subject subtly over the coming weeks, but I have the perfect opportunity to make a good start of it right now.
I still proceed warily, keeping my tone light. “The journey hasn’t been all strife by any means. I’ve enjoyed getting a deeper understanding of the relations between the countries of the empire. I didn’t realize quite how many goods are brought into Dariu from beyond our borders.”
Marc hums. “One of the benefits of commanding an empire—we can command the best of our subjugate kingdoms’ offerings as well.”
Except they’re getting the worst at least as often as the best, if the conversation I overheard yesterday is anything to go by.
I tilt my head as if in thought. “Is the stone of the Gorician mountains so much better than that which could be quarried in Dariu? We have plenty of our own mountains in the east.”
“And people mining them,” Marc agrees without any sign of suspicion at this line of conversation. “Certain sorts of stone are distributed unevenly, though. Most of the marble deposits are farther north. And the techniques the Gorician workers have developed are more efficient than our own. It’s simpler to have them serve us than to completely overhaul everything about our operations.”
Simpler, but that shouldn’t be impossible. And marble is an extravagance rather than a necessity.
I tease my fingers lightly over Marc’s knuckles. “I suppose anything essential to Dariu would have been produced at home before the time of the empire. It’s simply been a matter of collecting finer and a wider variety goods and materials.”
“Exactly.” Marc presses a kiss to the back of my head. “Why are you pondering our imports this morning, wife? Do you have some revised strategy in mind for them?”
Revised would be understating the matter, but it isn’t something I can implement while my husband still lives.
The conviction I’ve come back to so often brings an unexpected ache into my chest.
Marc has softened to me. He’s listened to me and respected my opinions. After everything I’ve seen and heard, I believe he’s genuinely interested to know if I do have new ideas about the running of the empire.
But I can’t imagine him ever agreeing to pulling back its influence significantly, let alone letting the entire idea of the empire crumble. He certainly wouldn’t cuddle with me if he knew that’s what I’m thinking.
I wanted a husband I could work with, who could be swayed at least somewhat to my ideals… and I might have found that after all. But I’m no longer sure it’s enough.
I swallow against the tightening of my throat. I don’t have to make any definite decisions yet. If he rids us of Linus, the most immediate problem will be off my shoulders. Then I can see where we stand.
“Not yet,” I reply. “But the better I see the overall picture, the more likely some inspiration will come to me.”
“I’ll enjoy hearing it when it does.” He pauses. When he speaks next, it’s in a more measured tone. “Linus mentioned that you gifted him with a pendant blessed by Elox.”
My breath snags in my lungs. I will my muscles to stay relaxed as my mind scrambles for the right way to respond.
Is Marc jealous that I offered the relic to Linus rather than him—or puzzled by my intentions?
Gods willing, the best answer I can give will address both.
I let out a self-deprecating chuckle. “You can see that as more of my stubborn optimism. I thought perhaps the blessing might open his mind to more peaceful alternatives. Naturally, even if it does, it’s still up to him to choose which course to pursue.”
Marc’s momentary silence has my gut twisting. Then he sighs. “If only reining in his madness were that simple. It speaks to your determination that you’re trying every option you can find.”
Thank the All-Giver that he saw my explanation in such a generous light.
He kisses my hair again and then pulls away from me with a sigh. “I suppose we’d best get up to face the day. In his not-at-all-peaceful way, Linus left me rather a lot of mess to deal with—not the least of which is the prince of Goric.”
Neven—his punishment may not be complete. What if Marc decides even the minor attack is worthy of execution after all?
As I grasp for the right words to protect the young prince, the presence in my belly shifts. A limb jabs out as if trying to push my flesh even farther to make room, harder than I’ve ever felt it before.
Marc has already sat up—he didn’t notice. I hesitate for only a second before rolling onto my back. “Wait. Give me your hand.”
He gives me a curious look but offers his hand without questioning. I guide it to the place on my belly where I felt the movement and lay it flat against the thin layer of silk that separates our skin.
Marc goes completely still, waiting with an air of absolute concentration. For several thuds of my heart, I think my effort is in vain, that the baby is dozing again.
Then there’s another kick, right by his palm.
Marc inhales with a startled hitch. A grin that’s pure delight stretches across his face.
He beams down at me. “That’s our girl.”
He trusts my judgement on her gender, then.
I smile back at him, trying not to notice how very stunning he is when he’s so lit up with joy. “She’s getting restless, but I keep telling her she’s got to wait a little longer.”
A soft laugh spills from his lips. “Yes, she’d better. At least until we can get back home.”
I can’t think of a better time to broach this subject. I pause as if it’s only just occurred to me in the midst of my own tender emotions. “Husband, do you think perhaps Prince Neven could be offered a bit of leniency?”
Marc’s gaze sharpens in an instant. No matter how tender he can seem, his incisive side hasn’t disappeared. “What do you mean?”
I lower my eyes, deciding now is a moment for meekness. “I was only thinking… He’s barely grown. He acted rashly, but it didn’t look to me as if he intended to hurt Linus. If you wanted to punch your brother just hearing what he did with me, it’s not surprising a man that young might have lost his temper briefly when seeing so many of his people asked to take on a painful task, is it? I don’t think it says anything ill about his overall character.”
If anything, it shows he has the passion to defend what he cares about, but I doubt Marc wants to encourage that quality in the empire’s conquered royals.
My husband’s expression goes distant as he thinks my words over, but his hand lingers on my belly. I’m sure he can make the association between the young prince and the trials our future child may face.
Finally, he shakes his head. “You and your peaceful ideals. You can’t expect me to let him go unpunished after a public display of hostility, whatever his intentions.”
“Of course not. But he was also publicly beaten to the point of unconsciousness. Perhaps you could find a fitting additional punishment that would improve his self-discipline rather than simply damaging his body.” Ideas whirl through my head. “He’s shown an interest in fighting in the arena. You could assign him to train with the soldiers. That should keep him out of trouble and remind him of his limits.”
Neven might even like it. It’d make him feel like he’s doing something—or preparing to do something—and that’s what he’s always seemed to long for most.
Marc’s mouth slants, but then he lifts my hand to kiss the back of it. “You may have a good tactic there. I’ll think on how best to present the decree.”
As he helps me out of bed, my maids’ soft knocking sounds on the door. Marc touches my cheek. “I’ll leave you to your dressing and collect you for breakfast when you’re finished.”
My victory buoys me through the fussing of the maids and the increasing awkwardness of draping my gowns around my belly without leaving me looking like a mountain of fabric. When I step out of my chambers to find Marc in a fresh shirt and jacket, waiting for me as if his entrance wouldn’t be worthwhile if I’m not by his side, my confidence expands.
As we walk through the halls to our palace’s dining room, my gaze lands on one more target I need to set my husband’s sights on.
Just as Linus reports just about everything to Marc, so Marc passes on just about everything to his twin, I assume. Everything that could threaten their rule, certainly.
I give a little shiver as if I’ve tried to restrain a larger shudder and adjust my grip on Marc’s elbow. He glances down at me. “What’s the matter?”
“Oh, it’s probably nothing.” I offer a halting laugh. “I only… How sure are you of Viceroy Ennius’s intentions? There are a few things I’ve seen over the weeks that have made me wonder…”
Marc’s eyebrows arch, but his expression has gone stern. “Wonder what?”
“I’m not sure. Nothing definite. But I think perhaps he considers himself a better man for the throne than you.”