Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Bastien
C lutching the metal bar, I haul my body off the ground. The strain ripples through my shoulders and biceps with a familiar burn.
I bring my chin to the level of the bar, hold there through a carefully even breath that prickles through my single lung, and lower myself again.
I still have three more repetitions in my standard sequence, but the squeak of the opening door diverts me. I let go of the bar and turn around, swiping my stinging hands together.
My stance has tensed in case it’s one of the court nobles or a member of the imperial guard. I generally restrict my exercise sessions to the privacy of my bedroom, where there’s no chance of anyone mocking my thin body or my lack of endurance. Every now and then, though, I sneak down to the chambers dedicated to physical training to make use of the equipment I otherwise don’t have access to.
It's nearly midnight—both nobles and guards off duty tend to be asleep or deep in their cups by now.
No doubt they are tonight as well, because it’s Raul crossing the room toward me. My foster brother’s expression is typically intense, but there’s an unusual spring to his step as if this once he’s more energized than pissed off.
What does the prince of Lavira have to be elated about? Princess Aurelia passed another trial with unsettling composure, even when she was expelling the contents of her stomach. And we all had to watch the entire repulsive show Marclinus giddily put on.
I’d have liked to empty a few of those buckets of vomit over his head and see how he enjoyed it then, but his next act would have been ordering me drowned in one.
Lorenzo trails along behind Raul with enough distance to suggest that while he agreed to be part of this conversation, he doesn’t share Raul’s enthusiasm. The prince of Rione twists his fingers in a swift gesture only I see. His idea. Don’t know what.
I roll the lingering ache out of my shoulders and wait for Raul to reach me. “What’s going on? Shouldn’t you be tumbling whichever ladies Marclinus hasn’t dragged off for the night?”
My foster brother rolls his eyes at me. He seems to think that bedding as many of the married women of court as he can serves as some kind of revenge against them and their husbands. I once tried to suggest that they might be using him at least as much as he’s using them, and then he did nothing but glare at me for the better part of a week.
Nothing we can do here has ever made all that much difference, at least not in the ways we’d have wanted. A bear with its paw caught in a trap would have more room to maneuver.
A sly smile has curved Raul’s lips. “I had a different thought about tumbling.”
I restrain a sigh. “And what about this thought was so important that it has you arranging midnight meetings?”
He folds his arms loosely over his chest. “I paid the princess a visit in her chambers this afternoon. Mostly to judge whether Neven was right that she’s been whoring herself to His Imperial Highness already—and it appears not—but I learned something else even more worthwhile.”
“Which is…?”
His grin is getting cockier by the second. “She’s not as unaffected as she likes to pretend. I caught her just coming out of the bath. She didn’t like me interrupting, but she was turned on too. No denying the tells of the body.”
Especially to a man with Raul’s gift.
“How does that help us?” I ask. Will he get to the point already?
“Unnerving her hasn’t stopped her from coasting through the trials so far. But there are other ways to mess with her—and Marclinus. It’d be some kind of victory if one of us—fuck, all of us—could claim her before he can. Cuckold him and then if she makes it to the end, reveal it right when he’s got no other contenders left? He and his damned father will look like idiots.”
Lorenzo’s mouth has twisted uneasily, but a glimmer of some hotter emotion shines in his dark eyes. I’d be lying if I said Raul’s suggestion hasn’t kindled something in me.
His plan isn’t completely absurd. It’d be another way of undermining the traitor in our midst, if nothing else. If we can win her over, gain her trust, and then turn on her, we’ll leave her completely off-balance .
I imagine a blush staining Princess Aurelia’s pretty face, her lips parting with a sigh of passion, and a flush of my own creeps over my skin.
The possibility of seducing her is more appealing than I like. How much is Raul being guided by strategy and how much by his own base desires?
Entangling ourselves with her could upend our own plans as much as hers.
“I doubt she’ll be all that interested after the reception we’ve given her, no matter how her body might react in the moment,” I point out. “If there’s anything she’s shown in her performance before the court, it’s self-control.”
Raul shrugs. “There are always cracks. She’s alone without anyone here she knows. She’s still human—she has needs.” He flashes another grin at me. “I think you’re just afraid I’ll beat you to the punch if you give it a shot.”
I grimace at him. “I don’t see why that would matter if your idea is that we’d all have her. I’m simply not convinced this would be the best use of our energy. She must have other weaknesses.”
“This will be the most fun to prey on.”
I lift an eyebrow at Lorenzo, who makes a noncommittal gesture. He isn’t fully on board, but he’s not outright against the idea either.
If I encourage Raul, there’ll be no stopping him. As always, it’s my job to be the voice of reason among us.
I turn away as if I’m done with the conversation. “I’m sure you’ll do whatever you want regardless. Just make sure you’re listening to your head at least as much as your cock, will you?”
Raul’s tone becomes slightly mocking. “Thank you so much for your not-quite-blessing, King Bastien. ”
That’s what he always calls me when he thinks I’m being a hard-ass.
He spins on his heel and strides off. Lorenzo meets my eyes with a look that seems to say, That’s Raul for you , and lifts his hand to his mouth to stifle a yawn.
I wave him off. “Go get some sleep. Who knows what tomorrow’s going to bring.”
For us or for the princess of Accasy and her fellow hopeful brides.
Despite the workout, I don’t sleep much, shifting restlessly beneath my sheets. A couple of hours before the leisurely court breakfast time, I crawl out of bed and head to the library to settle my mind.
As I stalk through the halls to that vast room stuffed with books, I chart the aisles in my head. Over the past sixteen years, I’ve scoured every volume on military and political tactics, along with a plethora of historical accounts that only provided the occasional tidbit of strategic philosophy.
What’s left that might offer some new information? If there was any scrap that could topple Tarquin, Marclinus, or their entire damned empire, I’d have found it by now.
A little more insight into the culture of Accasy could be helpful, but the imperial library is sparse on materials relating to any of its conquered countries beyond the tales of the initial conquering. Would it be worth slipping into the theoretically locked records room and giving the accounts of imports and disciplinary actions another perusal?
From what I recall, those are sparse too. Accasy sends the empire some wood and wine, and occasionally soldiers to wage war on the border with the half of the continent the empire would like to regain. No significant uprisings have occurred since the first few decades after the invasion centuries ago.
They’ve turned complacent. The empire’s wild northern lapdog.
I haven’t quite decided on my best course of action when I push past the heavy door and find myself faced with the opportunity to get a much more direct accounting.
Princess Aurelia is standing by one of the nearer sets of shelves, contemplating its contents with the serene assurance that seems to be her natural state—or else her most practiced fa?ade. When she catches sight of me, she… smiles.
With Raul’s insinuations wriggling around in my brain, it’s hard for me not to notice how that smile brightens her tanned face and adds a sparkle to her deep blue eyes. How her burnished brown hair gleams in the early morning sunlight streaking through the tall windows at the other end of the room.
How her delicate lavender gown flows over her limbs while clinging to curves an interested man might call tempting.
No, I don’t think Raul is only looking to indulge his sense of vengeance with his new proposal.
As I walk over to the princess of Accasy, I study her openly. Let her feel the weight of my scrutiny.
It isn’t as if I’ve made any secret of what I think of her presence.
If my gaze unsettles her, she doesn’t show it. When I halt a few paces away, she dips her head to me in a gesture of respect. “Prince Bastien. I hope you’re well.”
I have to choke back a guffaw. “Do you?”
Aurelia considers me for a moment. “We got off on the wrong foot, didn’t we? I’d rather it didn’t stay that way. ”
I prop myself against the table I’ve stopped beside. “What does it matter to you?” She’s barely reacted to the court’s ladies being slaughtered right in front of her, so it’s hard to imagine she’s all that concerned about my feelings. Other than how provoking friendlier ones might be useful to her.
Her smile returns, soft around the edges. “I know you care a lot about your people. It must be hard having been separated from your family and your country for so long.”
How would she know what I care about or how much? An easy stab in the dark, an attempt to show sympathy.
“I’m managing as I am,” I reply.
“Then I hope you’ll understand that I am too. Simply… managing. There’s nothing that matters to me more than the people I left behind. If it was up to me, if I could choose freely?—”
Her voice catches—just for an instant, but it’s enough of a lapse that I mark it. And the fact that she never quite finishes that thought.
“I have a duty to my kingdom and the people in it,” she goes on. “What I want isn’t relevant beyond that I want to serve them as well as I can. I’m lucky that I had so long before my duty took me from my home, and I won’t insult you by saying our situations are the same. But I take no joy in any of the bloodshed that began when I arrived.”
She sounds genuine enough that a tendril of sympathy unfurls inside me before I stamp it out.
Easy words to say. And whether they’re true or not makes no difference.
I already knew she hadn’t come here for love but to serve her family’s purposes. Whatever she gains for her kingdom will be stolen from mine and my foster brothers’, and I don’t see a trace of guilt in her over that consequence .
She might not be rejoicing in the brutality of the trials, but she hasn’t shrunk from it either.
Annoyance at my spurt of compassion pushes me forward so I move incrementally into her personal space. I draw my spine up straight to make full use of the few inches I have on her in height. I can’t tower over her like Raul might, but let’s see how she reacts to a different sort of imposition.
“None of that means anything to me, Princess.”
Her hands close at her sides, her thumb rubbing over the ring on her left forefinger. There’s something almost defensive about the motion—as if she feels she needs to protect the ornament from me—that I file away for future consideration.
She doesn’t back down, though. Her brow knits. “What is it that bothers you so much about me? If I’ve caused you harm, I honestly didn’t realize, but I’d want to know so I can set it right.”
Is she really so ignorant about how her schemes will affect the rest of us or simply playing at it? I’ve gotten the impression she’s reasonably clever, but even the most brilliant thinker has their blind spots, and I doubt Princess Aurelia qualifies as brilliant.
It could be her awareness shouldn’t matter either. I knew it might be useful to get her to let down her guard and reveal more of herself, and she’s all but laying herself on a platter—however much she’s willing to share now.
I can’t let my frustrations prevent me from exploiting every potential advantage I’m offered.
I dip my head, smoothing out my voice with the benefit of much practice. “Perhaps I’m merely bothered by the additional chaos that’s come with your arrival. That may have been unfair of me. It’s clear you were totally unaware of what Marclinus had planned. ”
There. A little of the tension in her stance relaxes.
“I was.” Aurelia lets out a soft laugh that quivers through my nerves. “I had no idea what to expect from him at all. You must know him well after growing up together, but I gather the trials were a surprise to the court too.”
“Their Imperial Eminences sprung them on all of us.”
She tilts her head to one side as if mulling over the situation. “Well, I’ve discovered he’s fond of praise, knives, archery, and rather a lot of food. How else has he liked to spend his time?”
She asks the question casually enough, but I sense her goal at once. She’s prying for information, hoping I might shed some light on the upcoming tests.
The princess is at least canny enough to realize what an excellent source of information I could be for her. I can use her trust to my advantage.
What could I tell her that would trip her up rather than boost her chances?
I hum as if in thought. “As much as he enjoys praise, he does admire the boldness of a blunt statement as well. And he’s always tickled when he finds an opponent with combat skills to rival his own, if you have any skill for sparring. He plays a lot of games—cards, board, those of sport—to pass the time, and I can tell it bores him that his companions always lose.”
Bores him so much he cackles gleefully with every win. I can’t imagine what he’d make of a prospective wife who could best him or dresses him down to his face, but it wouldn’t be a pretty picture when he’s through.
One of Aurelia’s eyebrows rises. “Hmm. I’m a believer in politeness over bluntness, and I can’t say combat or sports are my forte. I may have a struggle ahead of me.”
The subtle wry note in her voice leaves me uncertain about whether she’s poking fun at herself or skeptical of my advice.
I might as well say one true thing that’s obvious enough, in case it’ll make her more likely to act on the rest. “He does also love a good ball, of course. Music, drinking, dancing.”
“Maybe I’ll survive here long enough to participate in one of those.” She pauses and then rests her hand on my forearm. A feather-light touch, but the warmth of it tingles over my skin. “He hasn’t ever been kind to you, for all you’re supposedly a brother, has he?”
Interesting. I step even closer and set my hand over hers, holding her gaze. Does her breath quaver just slightly at my nearness?
Raul might have been on to something—something that applies to more than just him. Could it be that all the princess needed was a little kindness to break down her walls?
I summon a brief smile. “We make do as best we can with what we’re given. As you clearly recognize.”
Aurelia offers me one last smile of her own, quiet but radiant as dawn on the horizon. I’ve never seen her look at Marclinus quite like that. “Thank you for talking with me. And for listening.”
She steps back and walks out of the library. I stare after her for a few seconds, my heart thumping a little too loud, before I notice another sensation down below.
Great God smite me, I’m half hard.
The recognition comes with a flood of shame like a deluge of cold water, which solves the immediate problem.
What the fuck is wrong with me? It hasn’t been that long since a woman last offered me an affectionate touch.
Of course, the affection a few women of the court have shown was only about a momentary getting off. In the case of the few members of staff I’ve entertained, it was the thrill of a dalliance with a foreign prince. Never anything really to do with me .
Not that I’m dim enough to think Aurelia’s overtures come from anything other than a selfish place either.
Jaw clenching, I find myself striding over to the narrow windows. I look through the glass toward the tufts of cloud floating across the lightening blue of the sky.
My hand taps down forehead, heart, and gut before balling over my sternum. Gods only know what the godlen whose brand I bear—the master of travel, communication, and weather—would make of this scenario.
I extend my thoughts toward the sky. Jurnus, the road I’m on has become twisted. How should I weather this storm?
The clouds drift on before my eyes. Then one draws my attention with a twitch of my pulse.
It stretches across the sky toward me in a thin but straight line, like something steady and true.
I can only think he means that I should stay the course. Remain loyal to my principles.
Raul is an idiot. He’s going to let his dick lead him away from the path we were already walking. Giving in to those urges can only muddle the situation.
I’ll stick to the track we first agreed on, wear the princess down in every other way I can, and we’ll see who topples her first.