Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Aurelia
A t the end of our lunch, Marclinus leans toward me from his spot at the head of the table. “I have something to show you.”
As I smile, apprehension prickles over me. As much as our interlude last night was delusion, it’s seemed to have tempered my husband’s lustful inclinations for the time being. He’d left my chambers by the time I woke up this morning, presumably unaware of the much more pleasurable interlude I slipped off to while he slept, and he hasn’t done more than briefly touch my arm since we met up afterward.
His current statement sounds ominously vague, though. Is he already planning to resume our intimate relations in some unexpected way?
Resisting the urge to glance toward Raul, I get up from my seat. My heart skips a beat remembering the prince’s embrace last night, but I meant it when I told him that I have to focus on Marclinus rather than him—for both of our sakes. I can’t see what he could do for me right now anyway.
At least I had time to replenish the hallucinatory potion in my ring before my maids arrived to dress me.
Marclinus acts the perfect gentleman, ushering me into the hall with his hand on my back rather than my ass and then extending his elbow for me to take it. I have trouble deciding if that should make me less worried or more.
He leads me down a few halls, up a flight of stairs, and into the third-floor wing opposite the private imperial apartments. I’m not familiar with most of the rooms up here, as the court activities have been mainly restricted to the second floor and the gardens. I glance at the doors we pass, but none of them offer any hint of the contents other than what I might speculate from the etchings of historic events on their surfaces.
We stop at a door holding an image of Sabrelle in full battle armor. The godlen of war stands atop a pile of helms, her spear raised in a triumphant pose.
All right, I’m going to assume my husband isn’t leading me into a seduction. I’m not sure I’ll like his actual purpose any more.
Marclinus pushes the door wide and strides in so quickly I lose my grasp on his arm, leaving me to trot after him. As at my bed chambers, the guards who trailed behind us remain outside.
A few paces into the room, my steps slow.
The hexagonal space is as large as my opulent imperial bedroom, but the only furniture it holds is a round table so vast that I’d have to stand on a stool to reach even halfway across. It gleams with fine marlwood, but most of its top shimmers in an unnatural way.
The effect is enhanced by the sunlight streaming down from above. The room’s walls contain no windows, only a mural of a sprawling landscape with a battle in one nook, a peaceful farm in another. The illumination comes from several glass panes set in the ceiling, forming an enormous skylight.
As I take all that in, most of the room’s other occupants move closer around the table. I jerk my gaze from the ceiling to take them in.
All four of the main imperial advisors—who served Emperor Tarquin and who I suppose his son has inherited—were waiting for us. The cleric among them in his purple robes for Creaden bobs his head to me in acknowledgment after a deeper bow to his new emperor. He even offers a small smile.
The two solely political counselors eye me with similar uncertainty despite their nearly opposite physiques. Counsel Etta stands short and sturdily stout, her slate-gray hair pulled into a neat and simple bun that only emphasizes the squareness of her pale face. Counsel Severo has drawn his tall, slim frame even straighter, his pointed jaw working beneath the mussed white curls that contrast with his deep brown skin.
“Your Imperial Eminences,” they all murmur in greeting.
A louder voice carries from the far side of the table, which the fourth advisor hasn’t bothered to stir from. “Your Imperial Majesty,” High Commander Axius calls out with a hint of emphasis on the singular. “There was no need for you to bring your wife to this conference.”
Only a handful of soldiers have earned the highest military title in the empire, and from what I understand, Axius has held it the longest. He’s dressed in the same sort of airy noble clothes as the other advisors, but there’s so much steel in his burly frame and his dark gaze that it’s easy to picture him in uniform. His face, rigid and ruddy-brown as fired clay, does nothing to soften my impression of him .
I’ve only seen him in passing before. I don’t think I’ve given him any reason to dislike me. But who knows what he’d require to earn his respect.
Marclinus matches the other man in height but not in heft, his muscular body somewhat leaner in comparison. He doesn’t appear at all intimidated, though, as he steps toward the table with his head high.
“My empress will be accompanying me on the necessary travels. It isn’t as if anything we’ll discuss here today will be secret from her.”
High Commander Axius rubs the slight shadow of a graying beard along his jaw. “She won’t be playing any real part in the proceedings.”
“She’ll be presenting herself as my partner before our people. I’m sure she’ll impress them all the more if she’s fully prepared.”
Marclinus turns to me. “You asked me what to expect from the coming days. This meeting is for us to discuss our initial plans for the confirmation rites.”
I dip into a minute curtsy. “I appreciate your including me.” Then I shift my gaze to the high commander. “My only concern is supporting our emperor in every way and as well as I’m able.”
Axius grunts, but he raises no further protest. He remains on the far side of the table while the rest of us spread out along the nearer curve.
Marclinus aims a brief grin at me as if he really is glad I’m here. “This is one of our greatest treasures, created through several decades of magical work.”
He taps the tabletop, and the wooden surface ripples. An image forms on the smooth plane as if swimming up from the depths, the edges of the shapes sharpening by the second.
My breath catches in my throat. “That’s the entire continent. ”
Marclinus’s grin returns, broader this time. “Indeed it is.”
An enchanted map sprawls across the table like a vibrant painting. In the eastern half, Dariu lies framed by the island of Rione to the south and Cotea, Lavira, and Goric to the north, with my much-missed home of Accasy even farther above. On the western side of the Seafell Channel sprawls the territory lost a century ago, the countries I know little about that managed to heave off the empire’s tyranny.
I suspect Marclinus brought me here more to show off than because he cares about how I fit into his plans, but it’s an amazing sight all the same.
A quiver runs down the center of me, tingling through my limbs. For a second, as I gaze across the lines of borders and rivers and mountains, a white glow spreads across the eastern territory, from Dariu’s capital to every corner of the current empire. Like the light of peace Elox keeps steady inside me.
It’s only in my head. Has my patron godlen touched my mind, sent that vision to encourage me in my purpose?
Eventually I could make that peaceful possibility a reality.
The flick of Marclinus’s hand demonstrates more of the table’s enchantment. With a few quick gestures, he expands the section containing Dariu so its expanse fills most of the table, the other countries fading away around it.
He motions to the capital where we are right now. The city of Vivencia is the largest on the map. “All right. I have four ceremonies to complete. Should we get on with them as quickly as possible?”
Counsel Severo clears his throat. “Many of your citizens are quite stunned by your father’s abrupt passing. We feel it would be wisest to… ease them into the transition. You should begin right away to give them confidence in your as cension, but spread the rest of the rites out so you don’t appear too hasty to dismiss the impact of his rule.”
Axius makes a scoffing sound. “ They feel. I think we need to show our people—especially those beyond Dariu’s borders—that we’re still united behind a worthy emperor.”
Counsel Etta flicks her gaze toward him. “And we will. The confidence to be patient shows plenty of strength. We won’t stretch the process out too long.”
Marclinus braces his hands against the edge of the table. An air of authoritative focus has come over him, not at all like the leering hedonist who lolls on his throne.
I suppose my husband can rise to the occasion as it demands. Something I’ll need to keep in mind for my own plans.
“I can understand both sets of concerns,” he says. “What exactly are you thinking, Counsels?”
It’s Cleric Pierus who speaks up instead, with a rustle of his robes around his stately frame. “The typical path is to begin with the rite of Estera conducted at the Temple of Boundless Wisdom, which doesn’t require uprooting the court from Vivencia.” He points out a spot just to the northeast of the capital. “The arrangements can be made in just a few days.”
Marclinus nods. “Excellent. And after that would be Prospira, wouldn’t it?”
Severo jumps in again. “Yes. The temple that oversees that rite is out by Ubetta.” He points the city out on the southeastern side of the map. “With the regular court convoy, it’ll take a week traveling there and the same again back, with a short stay in between. I would say you should remain here in the capital for several days before leaving for that length of time. Then afterward, another week or two staying in Vivencia before a similar journey northwest to Rexoran for Creaden’s rite. ”
Etta nods. “Then you return to Vivencia for the final rite under Sabrelle’s watch. The entire series could be complete within two months. Not long at all while still giving space to honor your father’s twenty-eight-year rule.”
I grasp Marclinus’s hand in a show of solidarity that seems befitting my role. “And I’ll be right by your side for every mile of that journey.”
The high commander studies us from across the table with a frown. “Making yourself too visible may not be the most strategic option, Your Imperial Highness. Some have taken the emperor’s passing on the night of your wedding as a bad omen of sorts. Feelings among the citizenry seem to be somewhat… mixed.”
The image flickers through my mind of the bloody organ thrown from the crowd just yesterday. Mixed indeed.
My pulse thumps a little faster, but I lift my chin. “Then it’s important that they see how much their emperor and their country mean to me so I can earn their good will.”
Marclinus tsks his tongue. “She’s made of strong stuff, Axius, or she wouldn’t be my wife. We’ll set attitudes in order. And I trust my army will take every precaution to ensure no actual harm comes to her?”
With a tick of his jaw, the high commander bows his head. “Of course, Your Imperial Majesty. I’ll see that double the usual host of soldiers accompanies each procession.”
“Excellent. It sounds as though we have plenty of time to go over the details of each of the rites before I must face them. If I recall correctly, Estera’s involves a maze of some sort?”
“That’s right,” Counsel Etta says quickly. “But none of them will provide any great challenge to you. The imagery is what’s most important.”
The symbolic indication that the four godlen most revered in Dariu approve of the new emperor. Wisdom, abundance, authority, and might. It’s not a surprising combination. Do the other five of our lesser gods feel left out?
Marclinus waves his hand dismissively. “Make the appropriate arrangements for the first rite and check with me before finalizing them. We may as well rejoin the court for the afternoon.”
Or perhaps he’ll return to speak with his advisors at more length without me, but I can hardly complain about that in my current position.
High Commander Axius’s warning has set my mind bubbling with possibilities. As I follow my husband into the hall, I consider the best way to approach the subject without giving away all of my aims.
I slip my hand around Marclinus’s elbow again. “Do you think perhaps I should pursue a little combat training in case I need to defend myself? It isn’t something I’ve had much experience in with my dedication to Elox.”
That isn’t entirely true—my parents ensured that both my sister and I were tutored in every skill we might need, including the basics of self-defense—but I don’t think Marclinus will find it difficult to believe. And it wouldn’t hurt to brush up on my admittedly limited abilities regardless.
He hums. “I’m sure our soldiers can protect you quite well if any civilian dares to attack you. But a certain amount of martial competency can only be a benefit, if you’re inclined to learn. I’m not sure how well you’d get on with the typical military regimens, though.”
I produce a light laugh. “Oh, to be sure, I can’t see heading down to the barracks for lessons. Is there anyone in the court who’s proficient enough to serve as a decent teacher? I’m sure Axius is far too busy with more important matters. ”
I’m prepared to prod Marclinus farther, but for once his inclination to make use of his foster brothers however he can works in my favor. He snaps his fingers. “Prince Raul is quite a fighter—you might remember his performance during the fighting exhibition a couple of weeks back. I’ll have him give you a tutoring session or two.”
I make myself hesitate before picking up my pace again. “Do you think he’ll agree? He and the other princes have been rather… distant with me. I suppose there’s also my guards?—”
Marclinus shrugs off my feigned discomfort. “He’ll do what I tell him. And he’ll know how to handle a lady of your standing better than anyone on staff. Your guards will be standing by to protect you from any outside threat—and to make sure he doesn’t get overly familiar. Unless you had someone else in mind?”
At his evaluating look, I shake my head with a sheepish expression. “I was hoping you’d advise me on that, and clearly you have. Prince Raul will be fine.”
Better that he thinks I was reluctant rather than eager. And now I’ll have an easy opportunity to pass on any messages I want to convey to the prince without risking it more publicly—or relying on him sneaking into my chambers.
“Once he’s run you through the basics, I’ll test you myself and see if anything’s lacking,” Marclinus says, a promise that feels more ominous than I like.
I snatch at the opportunity to broach another topic that’s been on my mind. “As long as you play fair. I haven’t heard tell yet whether you took a dedication gift from Sabrelle or what it might be.”
If he made a sacrifice, it isn’t an immediately visible one. But it seems unlikely that the heir to the empire would have given up the chance to gain at least a little extra power .
Marclinus simply tsks his tongue at me. “There’s no need for you to worry yourself about that either.”
Because he hasn’t got one or he’d rather keep it secret even from his wife?
Before I can find a way to pry further, we arrive at the hall of entertainments. The several dozen current members of the court are filling the space with their chatter and laughter.
Those nearest the door dip respectfully at their emperor’s entrance. Marclinus gives them a brisk nod, his gaze searching farther beyond. “Where are those foster ‘brothers’ of mine? I can speak to Raul right now.”
I can’t make out the prince of Lavira’s massive frame and cocoa-brown hair anywhere around us, but my gaze quickly snags on Bastien’s slim form. His dark green gaze jabs through me from beneath his shaggy auburn hair for the instant before he turns on his heel.
If Raul has talked to the prince of Cotea since last night, he doesn’t appear to have softened in his opinion of me any.
Marclinus swivels. “Well, there’s another who can be of use.”
When I glance around, he’s striding toward Lorenzo. The prince of Rione’s dark face tenses, but he gives a stiff bow to his emperor.
As I hurry after Marclinus, Lorenzo’s gaze flicks to me and jerks away again. He doesn’t look any happier to see me than he does my husband.
It shouldn’t matter. I made my choice. I’m lucky even Raul still cares about me.
None of those facts stops a pang from resonating through my heart.
“Prince Lorenzo,” Marclinus says in a jauntier tone, “I’d say the hall of entertainments could use some music this afternoon.”
My stomach turns. Emperor Tarquin was making a habit of pushing Lorenzo and his gift to the limit, not even knowing just how much casting the illusion of divinely beautiful melodies over the entire court cost him.
I catch Marclinus’s arm before he can go on and focus completely on him with an apologetic smile. “Husband, why don’t we call on the court musicians instead? I do find it so much more enthralling to listen to multiple instruments in harmony. Why should we settle for just a vielle or a lyre on its own?”
Marclinus chuckles. “You do have a point there. And we should appreciate our native Darium talents.”
He beckons to a page and instructs the woman to gather the musicians who’ve actually been hired for the job. At the edge of my vision, Lorenzo drifts away without a backward glance.
I don’t know whether he’s grateful for my intervention or offended by it.
The pang of that uneasiness jostles another idea loose. When my husband sends the page off, I lean closer to him. I might as well start testing what little bits of influence I can wield so far.
“We should discuss that banquet I’d like to hold. And there were a few treats I’ve heard the nobles mention that I was hoping I might get a chance to try…”