Chapter Forty-Four
Compliance
Eyes forward, I pull on what little magic I can access and send it out in blue-green spirals, imbuing complacency into the hearts of all who stare at me.
Stomach roiling as we leave the Emperor’s bathing chamber, I half-expect the Imperial Guards we pass to notice something different with my gait, though most wouldn’t dare utter a word against me.
The Emperor’s bedchamber feels entirely different in the light of day. Hazy light from the gray morning whispers in through the tall, arched windows, highlighting the plush rug concealing the drain where my mind transposes the image of the messenger bleeding freely through our Empire’s sigil.
Two Guards stream in behind us, escorting Cirrin and Malin, who appear to have bathed and wear clean uniforms. None of us bother to hide the way our shoulders relax the moment they step into place behind me.
Cirrin’s healing envelops me—a morphing light-and-dark-blue hue covering me—in what must be an overreaction to our having been separated.
My pain subsides, and energy feels as restored as it can be, allowing me the ability to maintain a magical connection to His Majesty’s mood while he busies himself with draining a goblet full of sparkling wine flavored with blackberry juice.
His eyes find mine as he swallows the contents in one noisy gulp, with the crystal singing once the base meets the wooden table, where he has set it for a refill.
“Eat,” Emperor Aldritch commands, gesturing with an outstretched hand.
I bow, forcing a polite smile, smoothing the silk of my robe over my nightgown to sit on the black upholstered dining chair Fray has pulled out for me.
I spear a portion of roasted potato and use my teeth to let it drop to my dry tongue, making chewing all the more difficult.
My throat bobs uncomfortably, begging for liquid as I swallow.
Then my hand noticeably shakes as I reach for the sparkling wine with the same hint of blackberry juice the Emperor is enjoying.
“Have you learned your lesson, my little witch?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
He leans forward and snatches my hand, still shielded by Varic, and says, “I’ll admit, I liked the look of you in chains more than I thought I would.” He releases his hold and pats the back of my hand before grabbing his wine goblet again.
“We leave for Annovia tomorrow at dawn,” he announces without looking in my direction.
“As you command, Your Majesty,” I say, with a surprisingly steady voice.
“Eat. I need you sturdy for this trip.”
“Yes, Your Eminence.”
I ignore his noisy chewing the best I can and force myself to chew through my disgust with the texture.
“Come,” he says, patting his upper thigh.
My eyebrows raise, unsure how to proceed. “Your—”
“I said”—he slaps his thigh—“come.”
I chance him chastising me by grabbing the goblet and swallowing the rest of the sparkling wine before slowly rising from my chair. I avoid making eye contact with my Guards, under the weight of their stares—as well as the heat of one in particular.
I turn my back to the Emperor, an action considered treasonous outside of his direct command, when Varic’s shield pulses heavily around my thighs, hips, and back, where he holds me tightly in his protection.
A satisfied smile tugs at the corner of my lips when the Emperor’s clammy hands grab hold of Varic’s magic as it possesses my hips while he eases me down to sit in a position which is familiar enough—having been made to do this very thing anytime he has sensed me pulling away over the years.
Varic’s fury spears through me as tiny lightning bolts spark along the sides of his hands, and I don’t think.
I just send him reassurance, appreciation, and gratitude for all he’s doing for me, plus a bit of patience I steal from some other beings’ memories—since he can clearly use some—and a sense of my trust in him that we will figure this out.
That it is going to be okay, because we will make it that way.
His shoulders relax, and he chances a quick glance at my eyes, then lets out a small sigh before turning to survey the doors.
The Emperor grips my hips and shifts me so I sit fully on his bony left leg with my knees filling the gap between his own. He trails a finger along my collarbone to move a stray tendril of hair off my shoulder.
“You will be instrumental to our aim, once in Annovia,” he says, his sulphur breath hot against my skin.
“Yes, Your Majesty.” He smiles at me, reveling in my rigid compliance.
“You will show the Annovians what they are missing.” I nod.
“How well you take orders from your Emperor. How they do not want to offend me, ever again.” I swallow, then nod.
“Good.” His hand lands across the top of my thigh, and I flinch, despite barely feeling it under the rapid thrum of Varic’s heavy pulse.
“You are dismissed.” Emperor Aldritch peers out the window toward the ports, not sparing me another glance as I carefully rise from his lap.
I bow, preparing to leave with each of my Guards around me, their bodies practically vibrating with what my magic recognizes as every angry-adjacent emotion—Varic most of all.
Drusilla waits for us in the hall just outside the Emperor’s chambers, stepping ahead to lead us to my own bedchamber, where it feels impossible that it has only been two nights since we were last there.
Drusilla stalks toward the closet once we enter my bedchamber.
I pause by my bed with the strange sense of something calling me from the forest, drawing me near the tall arched windows to gaze over the tree line, all while a shudder rolls down my spine.
“You must stay out of the forest, little one, as none but those who lurk inside it know what could happen should you fail to heed the warning.”
Despite my mentor’s warnings, and the dangers said to be held within, a strong urge to do more than observe grows—to venture out and explore the mysteries hidden within that thick blanket of green.
Countless hours lost in dreams, imagining what it would be like to traipse among the rocks and roots overgrown with moss and fallen leaves.
Varic and Cirrin have moved in to stare out on either side of me.
“I’m so glad you’re back,” I say, turning to Cirrin as shame for needing him—for relying on him too much, for wanting him to remain by my side—takes over, knowing how he must suffer as my healer and protector.
“I never would have left if I had any say.” His smile is genuine as we turn to the window.
A crow flies low, hunting its prey in the thicket of the clearing, and envy for the bird’s freedom to go wherever it pleases prickles in my skin.
Having only ever been permitted to enter specific areas within the tree line a handful of times, and had I been given the choice, I never would have left.
Being in the forest felt as if I’d returned home after a long and arduous journey.
The deep greens, the birdsong, and the scents all converged and encouraged those locked away parts of me to open, sensing safety.
My heart, my mind, my body, and my soul all come alive entirely differently when I stand within the pines.
“You love it out there,” Varic states, and I merely nod since my spy with light gray eyes is not far behind.
As if summoned to ruin my moment of enjoyment, Drusilla’s footsteps draw near, stomping across the marble floor.
In the blink of an eye, she snaps me back to reality, carrying a black-velvet floor-length gown with a high-back collar, plunging neckline, and cascading bell sleeves that swivels on its golden hanger now that it’s been set on the gold Dragon’s head hook by my vanity.
I cannot deny the talent displayed in its craftsmanship, with the golden embroidered Dragon scales adorning the edges of the sleeves and shoulders. The uniform of an opulent and obedient witch, intimidating our opponents while falsely empowering our citizens.
Self-consciousness falls over me as I drop the thin robe and nightgown to circle my feet, the chill of the air sprouting gooseflesh over my arms and legs with the urge to reach up and cover my chest. While the act of being stripped naked by an attendant in the presence of my Guards has generally subdued any sense of modesty, now a full-body flush shifts my pale white skin to a light pink, incapable of blocking the innate awareness of Varic’s proximity.
I cross my arms over my breasts and wince at their heightened sensitivity.
Drusilla lifts and drops my limbs, moving me around to stuff me inside the garment without bathing me first.
Drusilla pulls the corset strings taut, and Lars offers his arm, which I gladly take while wincing.
My hands squeeze Lars’ bicep every time she tugs.
I hold my breath to keep my ribs expanded, preventing the corset from constricting my breathing even more than necessary, though she’s putting all of her strength into giving me the smallest waist possible.
“That’s enough,” Varic commands, startling me as Drusilla pauses.
The corner of Lars’ mouth tips up as he shakes his head. Drusilla huffs and finishes tying off the corset strings, then drops to her knees to roughly shove a pair of polished black boots on my feet.
“You will treat her with the respect she deserves,” Varic says, glaring down at my attendant, who scoffs as she rises, holding out a delicate gold chain with a pendant of our sigil hanging from the center.
She steps behind me to secure it around my neck and proceeds to pull on the hairs at the nape with her movement.
“Interesting,” she says, stepping around to assess me.
“You’re right, Varic. She does keep ‘reacting’ in that same, distinct pattern.
” Her eyes flick from my chest, where my breasts are pressed into the most ridiculous orbs, then over to Varic, where her gaze lingers as if trying to send some sort of message before she returns her gray irises to lock on mine.
Confusion unfurls from the pit of my stomach as I try to read her seemingly amused expression, uncertain as to her purpose in pretending not to know the cause, which she claimed to understand while giving me a bath in the Emperor’s chambers.
Without any clarification, she simply shrugs her shoulders before turning to leave us.
“Any idea what that was?” I ask, and Varic steps closer.
“I think she just read my emotions,” he admits, as I look at him in horror.
“What do you mean?”
“I could feel unfamiliar magic trying to infiltrate. I think she may have gotten past my wards before I fully held them in place.”
“And what exactly would she have found?”
A deep rosy hue blooms within his golden-brown skin, creeping across his cheeks until it meets in the center of his nose.
The rest of my Guards pause their tasks to better observe our interaction.
“I think we all know the answer,” Lars says, as a widened grin breaks across Fray’s pale face, with each of them staring from Varic to myself as they await a response—of which, we offer none.
I clear my throat and adjust my neckline as if nothing of importance has just occurred—until my Lead Guard steps closer, and I warn him, “You need to be more careful, Varic.”