Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Aurelia
T he potion slides down my throat with its cloying herbal tang. A small shudder passes through me, but I swallow all of the dose down.
As I rinse out the vial in my bathing room, I glance at myself in the mirror that stands next to the sink. I can’t see any sign of the fertility potion’s effects in my form, but then, I wouldn’t expect any external changes.
I had no way of testing this concoction ahead of time like I did with the vision-sharpening ointment. I can only hope that it works as I envisioned with my gift.
It’s been a week since my monthly bleed finished. I’ve seen the signs in my body that one of the medics back home taught me indicate when chances are best for conceiving.
If I’m going to give this vital part of my plan another try, I need to start now.
My heart thumps faster within the vise of tension that grips my chest. I loosen a couple of strands of my hair to drift temptingly down the sides of my face and adjust the neckline of my dress so my cleavage shows more prominently. I might not have Bianca’s voluptuous bosom, but I can make the most of the curves I do possess.
Rochelle would have known how to adjust the gown to show off my figure even more impressively.
The thought of my lost friend hits me with a sharp pang. If she’d been here—if I’d had her to talk to?—
No, I wouldn’t even have had that comfort. I’d have sent her back to her hometown to marry the man she loved the moment I could.
But then at least I’d have the comfort of knowing I’d saved one person I cared about. I’m not sure yet if I can save even myself, let alone anyone else.
I square my shoulders. I’ll go forward and stage the scene I need to with my husband. I’ll claim the throne he sits on when the time is right.
I’ll do it for Rochelle and all the other people who’ve deserved so much more than their emperors have allowed them.
Now it’s simply a matter of finding him.
Marclinus joined the court in one of this palace’s parlors after dinner, but he didn’t linger there long. One of the pages slipped in and said something to him that drew him away.
The evening after the rite, he congratulated me on completing it with a smile I’d almost believe was genuine. But since then he’s been in one of his more serious, subdued moods, saying very little to me at all even during the public celebrations. I haven’t been able to tell if he’s frustrated with me or merely distracted by other matters.
We are close to the border with Lavira here—it’s only half a day’s ride away. I’ve seen Marclinus conferring with High Commander Axius more than once. There’s probably been more news about the stirring rebellion.
Which isn’t likely to put him in an amorous state. I’ll just have to work my charms that much better.
Checking the imperial offices seems like my best starting point. I hurry through the halls and come around the bend past the emperor’s private chambers.
A couple of his guards are stationed outside a doorway farther down. Here he is already.
As I glide closer, one of the guards draws himself more stiffly upright as if preparing to put me off. If Marclinus asked not to be disturbed from his work, that order may very well apply to me too.
I’m just riffling through possible excuses that might gain me access when the office door swings open.
An unfamiliar woman strides out. Her clothes and bearing immediately assure me that I was right about the matter that drew Marclinus away.
The woman’s forcefully athletic movements and the keen dark eyes that sweep over the hallway remind me of my family’s hunting hounds. Her long nose and lean frame only add to the impression. She’s wearing the dark gray and black jacket and trousers of a higher Darium military official, the imperial crest stitched in gold on the collar that’s fastened tightly around her neck.
She swivels on her heel toward me with a swish of her chestnut-brown hair along that collar. It’s pulled back from her coppery face in a sterner style than I see from the court noblewomen, woven into three braids on the top and sides that combine into one at the back of her head. I suppose that would fit better under a soldier’s helm.
“It appears you have more personal matters to attend to, Your Imperial Majesty,” she calls back into the room she just left, with an edge to her voice I can’t imagine any of the nobles daring. Does she object to me existing in the palace halls?
My husband appears at the doorway a moment later, his expression tense and his gray eyes stormy. At the sight of me, I’m relieved to see his face relaxes, if only slightly.
His gaze flicks to the military woman. “You haven’t yet had the honor of meeting my wife. Tribune, I’m sure you’ll offer Her Imperial Highness Empress Aurelia all due respect. Aurelia, this is Tribune Valerisse, one of our most loyal and formidable officers.”
Tribune Valerisse—she’s the one Axius mentioned who’s been overseeing the quelling of the Lavirian uprising.
She bobs her head to me in a quick jerk. “A pleasure, Your Imperial Highness. I must return to my duties.”
She isn’t much of one for words, is she? Or perhaps she recognizes that saying very little sends a clear enough message all on its own.
At Marclinus’s gesture of dismissal, she marches off at a pace just shy of a lope. Watching her, I suspect strolling and ambling are not in her repertoire.
My husband turns back to his office, but he motions for me to follow him.
As the door shuts behind us, he rakes his hand through his golden curls, frowning at the papers scattered on his desk with a vague air. Then he summons a smile. “What do you need, wife?”
His tone isn’t as curt as the tribune’s, but it’s not exactly welcoming either. Even though questions about the news Valerisse brought gnaw at me, I can’t jeopardize my goal by indulging my curiosity.
I step closer and rest my hand on Marclinus’s chest. He’s only wearing one of the silky dress shirts often hidden beneath embroidered vests and jackets, which serves my purposes just fine .
If I can feel the warmth of his skin seeping through the soft fabric, then he can feel mine as well.
I gaze up at him through my eyelashes the way I’ve seen his noblewomen paramours do often enough. “You’ve been working very hard these last two days, husband. Isn’t this supposed to be a time of celebration?”
Marclinus peers down at me, a hint of a crease forming between his eyebrows before he smooths it away. Almost as if he’s puzzled by my overture.
Or skeptical? It isn’t as if I often initiate our intimate encounters.
If he realizes I have an ulterior motive?—
He eases back half a step, catching my hand in his and holding it loosely. “Are you regretting that I haven’t been livelier in the past couple of days? Has my presence not been entertaining enough?”
I blink at him, honestly startled. Gods, no. I could see some members of his court missing his more manic attitudes, but does he really think I’d feel that way?
Not that I like being around him all that much either way, but even-tempered he’s at least less likely to create some new form of sadistic chaos.
I curl my fingers gently around his. “Quite the opposite. I enjoy seeing you so focused, dedicated to the well-being of our people. But as a dedicat of Elox, I do also know that one can’t work hard without any repose and still be at one’s best.”
Marclinus’s next remark comes out drier. “So you came to ensure I wasn’t wearing myself to the bone?”
I let the corners of my mouth lift into a smile that’s slightly wry to match his tone. “You’re serving the empire, and I’m meant to serve you. If encouraging you to take a break is the best contribution I can make to ensuring you rule with all the might you have in you, then I’m more than happy to do my part. ”
To my surprise, he still hesitates, even though he must understand what I’m offering. “I may not be very good company tonight.”
He’s never appeared that concerned about my enthusiasm before. What’s gotten into him?
I reach up to tease my other hand along his angular jaw. It’s a shame such a striking face was wasted on such an awful man. “Let me be good company to you, then. I can take care of you so you’ll be ready to approach whatever problems face us fresh in the morning.”
Finally, a glint of real heat lights in Marclinus’s eyes. He lowers our twined hands by our sides and eases in to run his fingers into my hair. With a dip of his head, he claims a kiss.
My husband has never kissed me quite like this before. There’s something oddly tentative about the press of his lips in the moment before I kiss him back, as if he’s waiting to see how he’ll be received rather than assuming the outcome.
When I loop my arm around the back of his neck, his mouth slides against mine, searing hotter. An unexpected tingle shoots right down the center of me to the warming spot between my legs.
It takes all my will not to overtly cringe in revulsion at the thought of any part of my body responding eagerly to the man who’s tormented both me and the men I actually love.
The fertility potion. It must have an aphrodisiac effect as well, one that’s clouding my perceptions of Marclinus to make his overtures feel more appealing. I hadn’t intended that effect, but it would be fitting to ensure the most necessary act for success takes place.
Marclinus grasps me by the waist, tugging me closer against him. The bulge within his trousers grazes my belly, provoking a shiver that’s more uncomfortable.
I can’t let this scene play out here in his office, where I can hardly explain away how he suddenly fell asleep at his desk.
I let my mouth linger against his just a few seconds longer and then pull back a couple of inches. My voice comes out purposefully breathy. “Will you escort me to my chambers, husband?”
Marclinus grins. “Nothing would make me happier.”
As he leads me out of the office and down the hall, an ache of longing spreads out from my core.
The potion is certainly doing its job. I only wish it’d taken a little longer to kick in.
I wait until my bedroom door has closed between us and our guards before I twitch my thumb against the side of my ring. When Marclinus pulls me into another kiss, I prick the miniscule blade against the side of his arm. I’ve flicked it away again before he even comes up for air.
He undoes my slim belt and reaches to loosen the lacing at the back of my dress, but I said I’d be looking after him . And it’s much easier to set the pace when I’m taking the lead.
I tug the hem of his shirt from his trousers and yank it upward. Marclinus obliges me by helping to peel it off.
As I tease my fingers over his sculpted chest, I smile up at him with all the promises his hallucinations will fulfill rather than me. A pang of need is growing between my thighs, but I ignore it.
I’ll give in to my inflamed desires tonight, but the gods can all smite me before I get that close with this man.
The potion’s aphrodisiac qualities must be skewing my perceptions as well. The answering stroke of Marclinus’s hands down my sides and up to cup my breasts feels bizarrely gentle. The branding of his lips against my mouth, my jaw, and my neck are exploring rather than conquering. When he guides me backward to the bed, it feels more like a dance than a demand .
Even if he is being more tender with me tonight, that could never erase all the nights when he’s treated me like a doll for his amusement—or any of the horrors he’s carried out during our days together.
He finally finishes loosening my dress in the midst of another kiss. As the silk pools around my feet, his gaze trails over me in its wake.
His fingers skim over my scarred forearms and trace the gold marriage band at my wrist in a way I’d call reverent if that made any sense.
Marclinus catches my gaze. “You are lovely, aren’t you? Every part of you.”
What am I supposed to say to that?
I step around him and nudge him onto the bed. “I have quite the view to appreciate as well, husband.”
His more leisurely foreplay has served me well. He’s barely settled back onto the pillows before the gleam of anticipation in his eyes hazes over.
I lean over him, stripping off my chemise. His gaze drifts across my body with a vague fumbling of his hands against the covers.
“There you go,” I murmur. “Just like that.”
When I tug his trousers and drawers off him together, sliding across his erection, he groans. His head tips back into the pillows. His hips rock with the imagined sensations flooding his head.
Just this once, a prickle of guilt pinches me right behind my sternum. The damned potion is messing with my head too much.
I wait until I can clean up after him and then drape an extra blanket across him so he won’t get cold. A dab of my additional sedative ensures he’ll sleep through most of the night.
Anticipation thrums through my body. The heat between my legs pulses deeper with every brush of my thighs against each other, but it’s too early to leave just yet. I signaled to the princes to meet me at the bell for midnight, when most if not all of the court will have retired to their own beds.
Biting my lip, I wriggle back into my dress, retie the laces, and pick up my book of history to try to distract myself.
By the time those twelve rings reverberate through the palace walls, I could moan with relief. I push open the garden doors and step out into the darkness.