Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Aurelia
I sway and spin on the dance floor, now in Marclinus’s arms and now in one of his noblemen’s. This once, it’s easy to keep my smile on my face.
The deep well of calm I’ve often turned to has spread through my chest, cool and soothing, as if I’m soaking in a tranquil pool.
I’m taking back control over my fate. There’s more than one way to transform a pawn into a queen.
At the end of a dance with one of the viceroys, I happen as if by chance to be standing a few paces away from Bastien. When he glances my way, I twitch my hand at my side to catch his attention and then form a few hasty gestures without glancing straight at him.
You three meet me in your room. Eleventh bell.
Bastien meanders onward, but not without a twist of his fingers that simply indicates, Yes .
From the corner of my eye, I note when he and Lorenzo depart the ballroom, with Raul following two dances later. I glide to the music for a few more songs just so the connection isn’t obvious. Then I contrive to put myself in my husband’s path once more.
Marclinus appears to have tired of dancing. He’s standing off to the side with a cluster of nobles, one hand raising a goblet of wine to his lips and the other resting on Bianca’s ass where she’s standing next to him.
A tremor runs through the serenity I’ve cultivated. My ploy will be much more difficult than I expected if my husband has already set his mind on tumbling a different lady tonight.
I slip between the chattering nobles to my husband’s other side and tuck my hand around his elbow when he lowers his goblet. “Such a fine night, husband.”
Marclinus peers down at me. He hasn’t mentioned our fraught conversation from this afternoon. As we’ve danced, I’ve caught an avid glint in his eyes as he watches me, as if he’s eager to see what lingering effect his words might have had.
Now, he grins and swirls his wine in the cup. “So glad you’re enjoying yourself, wife. It’s always a good time when we can revel with all of our people—at least, the people who matter.”
He flicks his gaze toward his friends. They all titter with the laughter he was seeking.
I tease my fingers up the back of his arm and bob up on my toes to murmur close to his ear, for only him to hear. “I thought I might show you just how well I can serve you tonight? In every way you might enjoy.”
Marclinus’s grin stretches into a leer, but he tugs Bianca a little closer by her waist. “My empress is looking to deprive the rest of you of my company. That hardly seems fair. ”
In the midst of the following chuckles, I grope for the right words to achieve my seduction.
I hardly expect Bianca to lend a helping hand. But she pats Marclinus on his chest, gazing up at him through her eyelashes. “We would never want to deny you the pleasures of marital company, Your Imperial Majesty. It will give us much joy to know you’re being so… satisfied.”
She manages to make it sound as if taking me to bed would impress all of them—and perhaps even stir her own desires for later encounters.
And as many complaints as I may have had about the vicerine’s conduct, she does know Marclinus well. His eyes smolder down at her and then dart to me with even more interest.
“It certainly would be poor form for me to neglect my husbandly duties when my wife is clearly in need of a good pleasuring,” he says in an amused tone, without any sign of caring that he’s now all but spelling out what we’re going to do. But then, this is the same man who paraded me naked in front of his entire court. “Especially when I benefit just as much. Revel on in my honor, my friends!”
He hands his goblet to a passing servant and guides me toward the door with his hand on the small of my back. I catch Bianca’s eyes for a second, and she offers a minute nod as if to say, “He’s yours.”
I knew she hadn’t been feeling as enthusiastic about their intimacies lately, but I never imagined she’d push him into my arms. I’m not sure whether to take the gesture as an apology for past sabotage or a thank you for the recent help I offered.
Either way, I have my husband almost where I need him.
Before we’ve even reached my chambers, Marclinus is stroking his fingers around my neck and across my shoulders. As we step over the threshold, he gives the lacing on the side of the dress an emphatic tug to loosen it.
“I like having you begging for it. Let’s see just how well you can serve your husband, hmm?”
I smile back at his smirking face and press my ring before brushing my hand across his wrist. “There’s nothing I want more. Please take me, my emperor. I’ve been burning for you all evening. I can’t wait any longer.”
The false words taste sour spilling over my tongue, but Marclinus shows no sign of noticing. With a laugh, he yanks at my dress hard enough to rip the fabric.
I restrain a wince and grasp the collar of his shirt in turn. He crushes his mouth against mine, pushing me backward to the bed as he does.
“My wife,” he mutters against my mouth. “My simpering Accasian wench. Only mine. You belong to me.”
The harsh edge to his claim sends a chill over my skin, but I giggle breathlessly as if I’m entranced.
I peel his shirt off him, and he shoves me right onto the bed. When he reaches for my drawers, my heart hiccups with the thought that he might race straight to the culmination of this act before the drug kicks in.
I nudge him playfully to the side and grab his trousers. “I’ve hardly had a chance to serve you at all. Your wife should be on her knees before you at least once every night.”
A ragged chuckle seeps out of Marclinus. He props himself against the pillows to watch me better, grazing his fingers over my hair as I unfasten his trousers.
I tug them down slowly, forcing myself to kiss his pale thigh as if I’m drawing out the anticipation for his pleasure. To my relief, just as I’ve tossed off his shoes to remove the trousers completely, his head lolls to the side.
“Mmm, Aurelia,” he growls, but his eyes have hazed. His hands grope at the air .
My stance relaxes. I strip off my undergarments as I always do, so he’ll have vague memories of taking in my naked body when he wakes. When I trace my fingers down his well-built chest, he groans.
It only takes a few minutes before he reaches his climax on his own. As he sinks into total oblivion, I clean him up as briskly as I can and then go to my trunk.
I don’t know exactly how long I’ll be gone tonight. It’s safest not to leave anything to chance.
The second potion I brewed this afternoon has cooled into a grainy paste. I smear a little on my fingertip and bring it back to my husband.
His lips part easily at my prodding. I run my finger over his tongue.
Based on its scent, the sedative will have a similar aftertaste to alcohol. If any flavor lingers when he wakes, he should assume it’s from the wine he was drinking. For good measure, I take the goblet I carried back here after dinner and dribble some on the bed near his face before setting the glass on the side table.
The sedative should ensure he sleeps several hours. Which means I’ll have to endure his snoring the entire night after I return rather than hearing him depart in the wee hours of the morning, but I can tolerate that discomfort to gain everything else I hope to.
I pull the least cumbersome of my packed dresses out of my trunk and wriggle into it. Then I ease open one of the windows to peer into the darkness outside.
Only a few lanterns gleam amid the palace grounds. There’s no entrance on this side of the building. The guards will be stationed by the doors at the front and back, as well as along the outer walls of the estate.
I clamber onto the window ledge and reach into the pear tree. Gripping one branch, I swing myself out and settle my feet near the trunk. I tie a tasseled rope I liberated from one of the curtains there.
It only takes a few careful maneuvers to work my way far enough down to feel comfortable dropping the last short distance. The tied rope dangles to just a few feet above the grass, well within reach for when I need leverage to scramble back up again.
And neither my personal guards nor Marclinus’s have any idea I’ve left my rooms.
Brushing my hands together, I skirt the side of the palace through the still darkness. Night-dwelling insects chitter, and a dog howls somewhere in the distance, but I can’t make out any sounds from inside.
I peek around the corner to ensure there’s no one nearby in the gardens and then sneak along the windows at floor level.
The first room I pass is dark. The second, the one Lorenzo indicated is Bastien’s, holds a faint glow from a partly shaded lantern.
The two windows that belong to that room are closed. I tap on the pane as loudly as I dare, pause, and then tap again.
At my second beckoning, it only takes a few seconds before Bastien’s pale face appears beyond the glass. Eyes widening, he pushes the window open.
Raul pushes over beside him and holds out his tawny arms to help haul me inside. I scramble over the ledge just as Lorenzo hurries over from the room’s small sitting area.
Tension thrums through the air. None of us speaks, not even Lorenzo’s conjured voice in my head, until Bastien has shut and re-latched the window.
“What’s happened?” Raul demands. “If that prick has some new awful scheme?—”
I touch his hand, and he cuts himself off, his scowl softening with whatever comfort my touch provides .
As I step farther into the room, away from the window, Bastien jerks the curtains closed without needing to be asked. With all their gazes on me, the proposition I’m about to make feels even more immense than it did in the solitude of my chambers this afternoon.
But I have one more urgent matter to consider first. I peer closely at Bastien and then Lorenzo, searching for any signs of pain. A prod of my gift during dinner didn’t reveal any lingering injuries that needed attention, but I need to hear confirmation from their own lips.
“Are you all right? The medics ensured that you’re completely healed?”
Bastien nods, with a flicker of a smile toward the prince of Lavira. “Raul didn’t hit us all that hard to begin with. We managed to get away with a bit of playacting and some bruises that’ve been well-soothed.”
Lorenzo echoes his foster brother’s reassurance with a couple of twists of his fingers. All’s well with us. And you?
I square my shoulders, girding myself for the possibility that my plans may end before I’ve done more than speak them. “I’m well enough, but… I’m the one doing the scheming tonight. Marclinus has gone too far. I thought there was a chance that I could nudge him onto a better course, but it seems no matter what I do, he only gets worse.”
Bastien’s jaw tightens. “Tarquin taught him too well.”
Lorenzo’s resonant voice fills my head. “It isn’t your fault, Rell. He never listens to anyone.”
Raul has latched on to the first part of my declaration. “What are you up to? You know we’ll help you however we can. Especially if it means seeing the imperial asshole get a taste of his own medicine.”
My chest constricts. I’ve all but admitted my murder of Tarquin to these men, but I never discussed it with them beforehand. I’m not entirely sure how they’re going to react now.
I wet my lips. “I don’t think I’m going to accomplish anything I hoped to as empress while our new emperor is making the decisions. But if I can continue winning the rest of Dariu over as I’ve started to—if he then met some unfortunate end…”
Bastien’s face tenses and Lorenzo simply stares at me, but Raul guffaws in approval. “You are bloodthirsty under all that talk of peace, aren’t you, Shepherdess?”
I can’t stop myself from glowering at him. “I’d rather not harm anyone at all. But if it’s that or watch Marclinus harm who knows how many more people, it’s clear which action is more on the side of peace.”
Bastien sets his hand on my shoulder with an affectionate squeeze but worry shining in his eyes. “To pull it off—you couldn’t use the same trick as with Tarquin. Any kind of illness so soon after his father’s might raise suspicions.”
Ah. He isn’t bothered that I’ve made the suggestion, only that it might get me into trouble.
I brush his rumpled auburn hair away from his temple, reveling in the brief warmth that blooms between our skin. “I wouldn’t go about it any way that I thought could be tied back to me or seem connected to Tarquin’s death. And I’ll have quite a bit of time to strategize.”
“You’re waiting until after all the confirmation rites?” Lorenzo suggests. “That shouldn’t take more than another month or two.”
“Well, there’s something else I’ll need in order to solidify my place as empress, considering that I’m not part of the imperial line—not even distantly, not even Darium myself.” I inhale slowly. “I need to be the mother of the next emperor or empress-to-be.”
All three of the princes stiffen .
Raul’s eyes flash. “You shouldn’t have to let that maniac of a husband—to have to carry his spawn inside you?—”
I hold up my hand to stop further protests. “I don’t like that idea either. Which is why it occurred to me… the child doesn’t have to be his. Not as long as everyone else believes it is.”
The stunned silence afterward stretches even longer than the first. Lorenzo’s lips part and then press shut again. “You mean…”
Even after the hours I’ve spent thinking about this moment, a blush burns my cheeks. “I won’t be taking any more mirewort. Based on my cycle, this should be an opportune time… I hadn’t thought I’d bring a child into the world this early, but if it’s the only way to protect everything I’m working toward, I’d rather it was with someone I actually admire.”
Raul shifts his weight on his feet, looking uncharacteristically awkward. “You know I can’t provide that service.”
I meet Bastien’s gaze. “It would have to be you. Your coloring is much closer to Marclinus’s than Lorenzo’s.” I glance at Lorenzo with an apologetic grimace. “Not that I wouldn’t want you just as much—but the chances that the baby’s appearance would raise questions?—”
He dips his head in understanding. “I never would have thought I’d have the opportunity in the first place.”
Bastien sputters. “Neither would I.”
I wrench my attention back to the prince of Cotea, reaching to caress his cheek. “You don’t have to agree. It’s a huge thing to ask. You’d probably never be able to treat the child as your own—I don’t know how much you’d get to interact with him or her, even if I can remove Marclinus from the throne, depending on how careful we still needed to be … ”
Bastien’s jaw works, his dark green eyes piercing into mine. He dips his head toward me to claim a kiss, one I offer up without any hesitation at all.
His hands settle on my waist, holding me in front of him. His mouth melds with mine, gentle and then more demanding. A giddy shiver races down my spine at the promise of passion.
Bastien keeps his desires tightly in check most of the time behind his studied reserve. But I’ve gotten a taste of how easily he can turn his authoritative airs into a dominating presence when the mood is right. He’s anything but a passive partner.
When he breaks from the kiss, he stares down at me, his gaze heated but pensive. His voice comes out commanding. “Tell me why you’d want me even if it wasn’t for this scheme. Why this means more than simply outmaneuvering Marclinus.”
As confident as he sounds, the order hints at his earlier insecurities about my affections. A pang shoots through my chest.
I loop my arms around his neck, stroking the hair that tumbles to the nape, and gaze right back at him. “From the moment I arrived in the imperial court, I could tell you have a mind and a will to be reckoned with. And if sometimes you turned that cleverness against me, you’re also canny and kind enough to admit when you’re wrong and make amends. I trust you to be both strong and tender when I need it. You’ve been willing to risk what little security you have to protect me. I know my heart and my life are safe in your hands.”
The corner of my mouth ticks upward. “And it certainly doesn’t hurt that you’re absolutely stunning to look at.”
I pause, and the deeper truth I’ve been resisting since I first started falling for these men rises up my throat .
Why should I deny it any longer? Why shouldn’t he hear just how much he means to me?
The sweet, na?ve feelings that stirred in me years ago in Gavril’s presence are nothing compared to the ache of devotion that burns in me now.
My voice goes raw, but the words come out clearly enough. “I love you. I wish we could be together like this every day instead of just stolen moments.”
Bastien makes a rough noise, and then he’s pulling me into another kiss, his mouth capturing mine with a searing heat that has me melting into him.
“I love you too,” he murmurs against my lips. “You’re so much more than just a medic princess—you’re… you’re a signal star, lighting our way through despair. I don’t know if there’s anything I wouldn’t do if it meant seeing you free.”
Bittersweet tears prick at my eyes. I kiss him again with all I have in me, but the emotions whirling inside me niggle at my conscience.
He isn’t the only one I need to say those words to.
I draw back from him just enough to look at Raul and Lorenzo, who are watching with uncertain stances. No matter how tangled our circumstances are, a smile I can’t hold back stretches across my face, offsetting the tears now streaking down my cheeks.
“I love you,” I say to Raul, and then, to Lorenzo, “And I love you. I don’t know how I’d have held it together over the past few weeks without all of you. When Marclinus is gone, maybe there’ll be a way… But until then, I still want you all to be a part of this act. This will be our child, not his.”
A cocky grin curves Raul’s lips. “Fuck yes, it will be.”
He steps in and claims a kiss of his own, even though I’m still in Bastien’s embrace. His foster brother doesn’t protest other than a light-hearted huff.
When Raul pulls back, Lorenzo is there, grazing his fingers over the side of my face and into my hair. His kiss is gentle and lingering, but no less giddying.
“You know how much I love you,” he says without lifting his mouth from mine. “There’s no one I’d rather see on that throne. I’d set you on it right now if I could.”
A ripple of wind that must be Bastien’s gift stirs the skirt of my dress. “Let’s give our empress everything she needs, then. We can treat her even better when we have an actual bed.”
The prince of Cotea traces the curve of my ass, and I whimper, turning to seek out his mouth again. Raul plants his lips on the side of my neck, while Lorenzo cups my breast through the thin fabric of the gown.
Bastien’s next commands come out a little breathless. “This isn’t just about ruling the empire or setting things right. This is about the four of us, and we should make our woman feel as good as possible. Get this dress off her and show her how an empress deserves to be treated.”
Raul wastes no time obeying, yanking at the fabric and tugging it up over my head.
Lorenzo dapples kisses over the scars on my forearm, continuing that trail all the way up to my collarbone while he teases his fingers along the edge of my chemise. “You deserve every pleasure and all the devotion in the world, Rell. No matter what Marclinus says or does, never forget that.”
He lifts that last layer of silk that covers my chest and takes the peak of my breast into his mouth. The tingling jolt at the pressure of his lips draws a gasp from my lungs.
Bastien drinks that sound in and plunders my mouth in turn, his tongue drawing mine into a thrilling dance. When Raul strokes his scarred knuckles across my other nipple, I can’t hold back a whimper. My hips sway between my lovers.
The prince of Lavira dips his hand into the shadows between our bodies, and suddenly a sensation slides all across my legs and torso as if a dozen hands are caressing me at once. He’s used his gift to solidify a swath of darkness so he can trail it across my skin.
Bastien doesn’t intend to be outdone. An air current stirs to life, quivering across every inch of my body that isn’t already touched. Its delicate touch sets off enough sparks through my nerves to leave me moaning.
A satisfied smile crosses Bastien’s lips. He lowers his head to flick his tongue over one nipple my other men have briefly left unattended and nudges me backward. “Onto the bed. I want to see what you’d look like if you really were mine.”
Another tingle passes over my skin. I let Raul tug my drawers off me and climb onto the satiny bedspread. In the middle of it, I sprawl out on my back. “I am yours.”
Bastien lets out a noise like a stifled growl and stalks after me, wrenching off his shirt as he comes. The sight of the brand I burned into his pale skin below his dedication sigil to Jurnus wrenches at me, but he erases that grief without hesitation. Kneeling between my knees, he drops his head between my legs.
At the first swipe of his tongue over my sex, my hips buck upward. He holds them in place, plundering me as if I’m the most delicious meal he’s ever had. The wave of pleasure coursing up from my core has me shuddering in an instant.
As I clutch at his hair, my marriage band around my wrist glints in the lanternlight. But it’s nothing but a frivolous bangle to Marclinus. Why should it mean anything more to me?
Bastien sucks on my clit, and my body writhes to meet him. My other lovers sink down on either side of me.
Lorenzo catches my mouth with a deeper kiss. Raul fondles my breast before lapping his tongue over it.
A keening sound I can’t restrain seeps out of me, embarrassingly pleading. I tug on Bastien’s hair, and he looks up at me. The sly smile that crosses his slick lips almost makes me come on its own.
“What do you need, my signal star?” he asks in a low voice that makes my sex clench with desire.
I grasp his shoulder. “You. Now. Please.”
“You never need to beg me.”
The contrast with my husband’s arrogant words sets off a fresh prickle of tears in my eyes. I jerk at Bastien’s trousers to help him out of them, and he braces himself over me. With one tender kiss and another, he removes the traces of grief from the corners of my eyes.
Then he gazes down at me, all heated determination. “We’ll make it right. Whatever it takes, however long it takes.”
As he sinks into me, he brushes his lips against mine. Gripping the sides of his face, I return the kiss through the feeling of fullness and the bliss that expands from the spot where our bodies have joined.
He fills me completely, withdraws, and plunges forward again, faster this time. My knees rise as if of their own accord to urge him on.
With each thrilling thrust, our mouths collide. Raul and Lorenzo stir even more flames, pressing their lips and trailing their hands over my arms, my neck, my shoulders, my chest.
Bastien’s breath has gone ragged, but he shows no sign of flagging despite his sacrificed lung. He ducks his face to nuzzle my cheek between kisses. “You are mine. You’re ours. And we’re yours.”
Raul lets out a gruff sound of agreement. “I love seeing you give yourself over to us,” he mutters in my ear.
At the same moment, Bastien pushes even farther into me. His cock strokes the most sensitive spot within, and my jaw twitches with the deeper burst of pleasure .
My teeth scrape across his lower lip. With our next kiss, a metallic flavor seeps into my mouth.
I brace my hand against his chest to stop him, peering at his mouth. Blood is welling from a nick on his lip.
Guilt dampens the rush of my desire. “I bit your lip—you’re bleeding.”
Bastien flicks his tongue across the spot without any sign of concern. A starker determination firms his expression.
“You’ve bled for us. Why shouldn’t we bleed for you?”
“But I don’t?—”
He cuts off my protest with another kiss, soft but still passionate. “I swear by it—I swear by my blood—we’ll end Marclinus together, or I’ll die trying.”
The second part of that oath sets off a jab of panic, but there’s no denying how emphatically he means it.
Raul’s gaze darkens. He snatches a pocketknife he was carrying from his trousers and pricks the blade against his thumb. “We’ll all bleed for you, as much as it takes.”
He lifts his hand to my face, and I part my lips to let him brush a drop of his blood across my tongue to join Bastien’s.
“All of us,” Lorenzo says, holding out his hand. When Raul passes the knife to him, he repeats the gesture with his own thumb.
Bastien lowers his head again, washing the metallic tang of their vow away with the sweet force of his kiss. He picks up his pace again, driving into me with renewed urgency.
I rock with his thrusts again and again, opening myself as much as I can, welcoming him deeper. The pulses of delight swell and surge until I’m trembling under him.
Lorenzo slips his hand between us and swivels his fingers over my clit. Once, twice, and the headiest wave of pleasure crashes over me.
I cling to Bastien as I shudder harder, every particle of my body singing with my climax .
Bastien groans and pulls me tight against him. His last few bucks send me spiraling higher before he sags against me with his own release.
I hug him tightly, nestling in between my men. Hoping that we’ve sparked more than pleasure here tonight—that inside me might soon be growing a new life that will lead the way for so many more lives to be saved.