Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
Aurelia
B y dinner, the imperial heir is back in one of his buoyantly irreverent moods. He seats Fausta and me at either side of his gilded chair at the foot of the table, and sometimes when he leans forward to snatch something off a platter or laugh at his own jokes, he slides one hand beneath the tabletop to caress my thigh.
I suspect he’s doing the same to Fausta here and there. A hint of pink colors her porcelain complexion. When she’s not aiming bright smiles of false friendship my way, she’s gazing at him coyly through her eyelashes and tossing her hair flirtatiously over her shoulder.
I laugh and smile and lower my eyelashes too, aiming for a more modest version of her encouragement. I don’t actually want him getting any bolder.
As if to make up for the attention he’s offered us over his third prospective bride, Marclinus swoops in on Leonette as soon as the court has moved to the hall of entertainments. He guides her closer to the musicians with his hand lingering on her back, just above her ass.
Neven is already standing nearby, watching the performers avidly. I spot Bastien keeping an eye on him from one of the cards tables. Raul and Lorenzo, who Emperor Tarquin didn’t order to perform tonight, have joined a game of darts.
I tug my gaze away as soon as I’ve noticed them, not wanting anyone else to notice me studying them. Which is a good thing, because my traveling gaze lands on Fausta just as she ducks out of the room.
Something about her stride strikes me as furtive. With a prickle of apprehension, I slip after her.
When I peek out into the hall, her petite form is just passing around the bend to my left. I hurry after her, my slippers nearly silent on the marble tiles.
As I come up on the bend, a faint murmur of voices reaches my ears. I ease my head around the corner, immediately grateful for the statue of some past emperor poised by the wall on the other side which offers me cover.
Halfway down the next hall, Fausta and Bianca have their heads bowed together in quiet conversation. I can’t make out their voices, but Bianca passes something to Fausta, partly concealed by the fabric of the cloak she’s wearing.
Did she go right out of the palace to get whatever item she’s brought for her friend?
They share a sharp laugh. When Fausta turns toward my end of the hall, her expression is so smug you’d think she’d already been crowned empress.
A chill courses down my back. I knew she had to be up to something, that there was no way she’d truly be backing down from making this competition a fight, but I have no idea what to expect from her tomorrow.
I can’t imagine what the final trial will even be, other than presumably it’ll prove the grandest of them all. Was Bianca able to uncover details in advance like she has before?
How many opportunities will Fausta get to sabotage me? What is she planning that’s left her so confident?
I can’t linger to speculate while she ambles toward me. With my gut clenched, I hustle back to the hall of entertainments before my rival can realize I followed her.
Once I’ve entered, I stay near the doorway, watching it. Perhaps I can find an excuse to accost her and find out what Bianca handed over.
But Fausta doesn’t appear. She must have headed to her chambers instead to secret the illicit item away.
I doubt she’ll bring it into my presence until she’s ready to use it. Presumably tomorrow, during the trials she may also know far more about than I do.
Standing in the midst of the throng of nobles, I feel abruptly adrift.
My one friend is gone, so utterly my entire chest aches to think of her. I certainly can’t ask Melisse if she’s heard any rumors among the palace staff.
The gentlemen and ladies who’ve flattered me in the past few days are looking forward to seeing me jump through whatever hoops Marclinus has in store. They wouldn’t risk his wrath or the diminishing of their fun by helping me prepare.
My gaze catches on Bastien’s auburn head again. He warned me of a coming trial once. Would he have already approached me if he’d stumbled on a clue?
Any of the princes might have seen or heard something that could help me get through tomorrow without them realizing the significance. They’re the only allies I have left. I need to make use of them.
Even if I’m not completely certain where we stand after last night’s fraught encounters.
I drift closer to the dart boards, pretending to be observing the games being played at nearby tables. When I see Lorenzo glance my way at the edge of my vision, I make a hasty twist of my hand.
You three meet me at my room.
The last part I can only convey with a brief jab in the direction of my chambers. Hopefully he understands.
I don’t dare look at him directly to see how he reacts. I just meander away, weaving in the general direction of the door and then out into the hall.
I don’t know how long it’ll take Lorenzo to pass on the message to the other two princes and for them to discreetly leave. It seems safest to head straight to my bedroom. If anyone asks why I’ve left, I’ll say that I want to get as much rest as possible before the final trial.
As it turns out, I don’t pass anyone except for a couple of silent guards. In my chambers, I pace across the stained rug. Melisse spent most of the day scrubbing at the remaining residue from the refuse Fausta left strewn here, but despite that and the open windows, a trace of the sour smell lingers.
My rival has been able to break through my defenses so easily too many times.
I don’t know how low she’ll stoop now that the prize is inches from her grasp. I don’t know what tactics she might turn to next.
The only thing I’m sure of is that she’ll stop at nothing to be the one who wins tomorrow’s trial and Marclinus’s hand.
She was willing to break my bones and leave me to die in agony less than a week ago. How much worse can it get ?
Gods help me, if I lose tomorrow, I want it to be because I wasn’t up to the challenge, not because some vindictive noblewoman cheated me of the chance.
After several minutes, my restlessness and the unpleasant smell lead me to the wall next to my bed. The spot Bastien indicated last night has the slightest indent.
I press there three times as he instructed me, and a portion of the wall sighs open.
The reveal seems like magic even though I knew the hidden door was there. Perhaps there is a little enchantment in the wall, helping to conceal it from unknowing eyes.
I step into the small alcove on the other side. A cramped passage leads off to my right. There’s definitely some permanent enchantment in here, because a dim glow wavers into being at my entrance, providing just enough light for me to make out the wooden boards that line the passage’s floor, walls, and ceiling and the bits of cobweb that cling to them. The air that seeps into my lungs has a stale oaky scent laced with dust.
It's clearly been a long time since anyone used these inner hallways regularly. Does Emperor Tarquin even know they’re here, or has mention of them been erased so thoroughly that even the owners of the palace have forgotten?
I don’t expect Melisse to return tonight, but I find a button on the inside of the doorframe and push it to swing the panel closed, just in case.
It only takes a few minutes before the soft scuffing of footsteps reaches my ears. Lorenzo comes into view in the lead, his face tense with worry.
Our middle-of-the-night conversation feels more like a dream than an actual memory, but he doesn’t look at all angry with me. Has he completely forgiven me for all of yesterday’s confusion ?
I turn toward him, and he wraps his arms around me automatically, ducking his head next to mine. As if there’s nothing more natural than catching me in his embrace.
All the anxious thoughts that’ve been whirling through my head settle down, overwhelmed by the ache of longing that’s washed over me.
I wish this was where I belonged.
Behind Lorenzo, Bastien clears his throat.
Raul lets out a soft huff. “She called for us too, you know.” But his chiding sounds good-humored. His tone darkens as he shifts his focus to me. “What’s wrong, Aurelia?”
I pitch my voice at a whisper, not sure how close we are to the other rooms around mine. “There’s nothing immediate. I only wanted to ask, with the trial tomorrow—have any of you picked up on anything at all out of the ordinary happening around the palace? Or overheard any unusual conversations? If I had even a small idea of what I’ll be facing…”
Lorenzo eases back and shakes his head with an apologetic grimace.
Raul frowns. “I can’t think of anything. They kept all the past trials awfully quiet too.”
I look past Lorenzo to Bastien, the one who’s come through for me before. His brow has knit with concentration.
Then he shakes his head too. “I’m sorry. I’ve been wondering about it myself all day, so I’d imagine I’d have noticed if something had come up.”
He doesn’t need to apologize. He doesn’t owe it to me to help me through this mess.
But all the same, the longing rises up to tell them my suspicions about Fausta, to implore them to keep an eye on her …
For what purpose? What could they do if she lashes out at me during the trial?
After all the turmoil we’ve been through, can I really ask any of them to step in and intervene directly if it comes to that? Why should they stick their necks out and risk their own safety?
Just yesterday they were all furious at me at one point or another. I can hardly expect our alliance to be secure, no matter how much I crave the certainty of knowing they have my back.
Bastien reaches out to grasp my hand. Raul peers past him, his gaze smoldering into mine with enough unspoken passion to send heat blooming over my skin.
When Lorenzo leans in to kiss my temple, a flare of inspiration lights inside me.
There might be a way to solidify whatever connection they feel to me. To ground the idea of us and the bonds we share in a totally concrete way, so they’ll believe it’s worth contributing everything they can safely offer.
It may not make enough of a difference, but at least I’ll know I did everything I could.
And if my heart leaps a little too giddily at the possibility, I won’t examine that fact. Why shouldn’t I want more—want everything I can get while I still can?
It isn’t as if they wouldn’t get plenty of satisfaction out of the experience too.
Once the idea has taken hold, I can’t shake it. It quivers through my nerves, and the next thing I know, my mouth is opening. “Is there a room we can reach through these passages where there’s no chance we’ll be disturbed? My chambers hardly feel secure now, and my maid always has access.”
Bastien cocks his head in thought and then beckons to me. He squeezes past Raul to take the lead in the opposite direction.
We wind through the narrow passages, around corners, up a few steps, down several more, through a few turns, and then descend a tight spiral of wooden stairs.
At the bottom, we emerge into a space that’s totally dark other than the thinnest haze seeping from the staircase behind us. Bastien gropes through the blackness and flicks on a lantern.
The glow fills a cozy space where the furniture is draped with sheets. Unlike the unused bedroom above, it’s clear no one has been keeping this room clean. Dust blankets the covers and the floor, with indents of footsteps where at least one of the princes must have ventured here sometime in the past.
“I think this used to be a sort of sitting room for servants who needed to be especially on-call.” Bastien motions toward the doorway kitty-corner from the stairs. “It’s totally blocked off from the inside now. No one will be coming in from the regular staff areas—no one should be close enough to even hear us.”
Beyond the doorway lies an even smaller room. At the far end of that, strips of metal have been fastened across the wall from the floor to a couple of feet below the ceiling—forming a barrier where the main staff entrance to the passages must have been.
It does look secure enough, if not the cleanest of spaces. I tug tentatively at one of the sheets, which appears to be draped over an armchair.
Warmth fills my cheeks. “I’m not sure if this is the best setting…”
“For what?” Raul asks, arching his eyebrows.
They’re all standing close enough to me that the heat of their bodies envelops mine. I can’t help thinking of the moment yesterday when both Bastien and Raul were caressing me with their hands and lips…
My blush deepens. For all the hungers stirring in me, for all the other reasons I have to want this, I’m hardly a practiced seductress.
I reach up to touch Lorenzo’s jaw and press a light kiss to his mouth. As he loops his arm around my waist, I turn in his embrace to face the other two princes.
The man who’s already been my lover shows no sign of disapproval when I tease my fingers up Bastien’s arm. When I stroke them partway down Raul’s chest.
I make myself meet their eyes one after the other, the desire gleaming there sparking more inside me, and lean into Lorenzo to show he’s just as much a part of this conversation. “Tomorrow, my life as I know it is going to be over one way or another. I only have a little time left. I’d like… I’d like to know what it feels like to be as cherished as I can be, while I have the chance. While I can be with the men I actually want, no matter how briefly.”
Bastien’s eyes widen. Raul lets out a low growl and steps closer.
Lorenzo’s arm tightens around me, but not to ward them away. His illusionary voice fills my head. “You’ll still have us. We’ll be here, even if you have to marry him.”
I can tell from the tightening of the other men’s expressions that he’s extended his gift enough for them to hear too.
I swallow thickly. “I know you’ll want to be. But if I make it through and become Marclinus’s wife, I’ll be guarded so much more closely. Everyone will be watching. I’ll have to share my room with him… I don’t want to put any of you in jeopardy. As anything more than acquaintances, the association between us will have to end tomorrow.”
Raul makes a scoffing sound and cups my cheek. “We’ll see about that, Princess. If you need us, I think we can find a way.”
I rest my hand on his forearm. “I’d rather go without your attentions but still see that you’re well than risk losing you completely. But tonight—tonight could be ours.”
Maybe it’s better if they believe something might continue between us even after the results of tomorrow’s trial. More to fight for, more reason to champion me. But I’m not going to lie to them and pretend I think it’s possible.
Tonight I can think of myself as well as my goals. After tomorrow, Princess Aurelia really will cease to exist. Everything I do will be in service of my country.
Which is all the more reason to make the most of this moment.
Bastien wets his lips and glances around the room. His stance tenses just slightly in a moment of hesitation.
His voice holds an uncertain note I don’t totally understand. “I can give us a nicer venue.” He lifts his chin with an aura of resolve. “Yes. It’ll only take a minute.”
Before I can ask what he means, the lean muscles in his shoulders flex, and a draft sweeps through the space.
Not just a draft—a gust of wind, tugging at my hair and dress as it passes me.
The current of air flicks the sheets off the furniture and blows them into the other room. It catches all the puffs of dust rising from the floor and sends them billowing after, wiping the floor clean.
In a matter of seconds, the lantern glow beams across a worn but clean rug on a smooth stone floor, two mismatched armchairs with a scuffed wooden table between them, and a faded settee by the wall.
My jaw has gone slack. I reel it back in, my gaze jerking to Bastien. “That—your gift?—”
His smile looks pleased if a tad sheepish. “Lorenzo showed you his. You might as well know mine. I can manipulate air.”
Understanding clicks in my head. “I heard you can send away rainclouds. That’s how? You just push them with the wind…”
Gods, it’s hard to imagine how much magic that must take—and how much else he might be able to do with a gift that strong.
But then, he did give up an entire lung for it. It isn’t as if the sacrifice wasn’t worthy.
“Show-off,” Raul grumbles.
He scoops his hand through the air next to the chair we’re standing near and lifts it with a strange object clenched in his fingers. It looks like a clump of dark, gauzy cloth standing erect, but somehow both filmier and denser in its darkness than actual cloth would be.
Then, as I watch, the edges of the shape ripple. It stretches out, thinning into a ribbon of the hazy material.
With a twist of his wrist, Raul slides the ribbon across my neck. It feels like a swath of mist, cool and tingling, grazing my skin.
With a squeeze of his fingers, the substance hardens. He traces it over my shoulder as if stroking me with a rod of smooth wood now.
A shiver travels through my nerves. “What is that?”
Raul grins. “A shadow. Mostly I can just sense what’s in them—the shadows of pockets and pouches and what’s under ladies’ skirts. ”
He dips his head to brush his lips against the spot where the shadowy ribbon touched my neck. “But if I can touch part of a shadow, I can grab hold and shape it however I want. You can thank Kosmel for that.”
I suppose the trickster godlen would be amused by the uses Raul typically puts his gift to.
As he slides his band of shadow over my hip and uses it to rustle the skirt of my gown, Bastien folds his arms over his chest. “Now who’s showing off?”
Raul simply smirks at him and lets the shadow soften to lick across my shin.
Even in this isolated room, the peal of the hourly bell resonates faintly through the walls. Bastien glances toward the sealed doorway and back at me, hunger reigniting in his deep green gaze.
“There are only so many hours left in the night, and our princess needs her rest before tomorrow’s trial. We can ensure that she’s completely sated before she retires to bed, can’t we?”