Chapter 41 #3
Since Petra and Tinom are already focusing on him, I let my gaze wander over the rest of the delegation. As well as his four guards, Admiral Varus brought along a young man he calls his assistant, a woman who’s a devout of Creaden, and one of the princes of Cotea.
The delegation leader only gave a brief explanation for the latter’s presence, but from what I understand, Prince Bastien has some role in Emperor Tarquin’s court.
He came with the delegation to speak to how any agreements made will be reflected in the actions of our nearest neighbor among the empire’s conquered countries.
The slim, almost gaunt fellow looks a year or two younger than me. He stands straight but lets his shaggy auburn hair fall forward to shadow his eyes, his mouth set in a tight line.
He’s trying to hide it, but I don’t think he wants to be here at all.
He’s definitely the most intriguing member of the party. And infinitely more so after Petra cuts off the aimless blathering to suggest we walk along the palace’s upper parapet for some fresh air.
It’s two floors up from the audience room. At the base of the first staircase, a couple of the Darium guards prod Prince Bastien.
“Let’s see you really march for once, huh?” one says, and the other laughs.
The prince’s lips flatten even more, but he strides up the stairs at the same pace as the apparent jokesters. By halfway up the second flight, his legs have started to wobble and his breath comes out of him in a wheeze.
The first of the guards shakes his head. “Shouldn’t have given up that lung if you couldn’t keep up without it.”
He uses a teasing tone, but I pick up on an edge of a jeer. How harshly would he speak if he didn’t have an audience?
Then what he said sinks in. I stare at Prince Bastien for a second before jerking my gaze away, not wanting my interest to be obvious.
He sacrificed an entire lung to his godlen? What kind of gift would you get for that?
Or, like Lothar, did he reach for too much out of the wrong reasons and get nothing at all?
I can’t tell from the guards’ heckling. The prince hasn’t shown any signs of magic since he arrived, but then, Admiral Varus could have cautioned him against it. At least while I’m around.
As we amble along the front parapet overlooking the sprawl of the city, the rooftops gleam under the bright afternoon sun. I contrive to place myself next to Prince Bastien. I have to constrain my pace, because his own strides are still a little unsteady from the climb.
Petra, Varus, and the others pull ahead of us, Stavros shooting a quick glance back at me with a subtle tip of his head in approval. When they stop to resume their conversation near the corner of the walkway, I come to a halt several paces away.
I set my hands on the ridges of stone as if I simply want to sightsee, blocking the prince from strolling straight onward too.
He pauses beside me rather than walking around. I wouldn’t be surprised if he appreciates the break.
“It’s a long way from Cotea’s capital to Dariu’s,” I remark. “Do you see your family often?”
Bastien’s voice comes out terse. “No.”
I turn to lean against the wall sideways and decide to take a gamble. “Do you really think your emperor’s soldiers are going to set down their arms and walk away?”
I manage to startle him with my bluntness. He blinks at me, a flash of emotion crossing his face and vanishing before I can decipher it. Then he turns to glower at the rest of Florian.
His answer sounds rehearsed. “That’s not for me to say. I’m sure if negotiations proceed that way, my family will respect the empire’s treaties.”
“I wouldn’t imply otherwise. It’s only that Dariu has been awfully stubborn, emperor after emperor, for rather a lot of decades.”
I think my wry tone earns me a twitch of his lips, though it’s so brief I might have imagined it. For a moment, his eyes darken. “Everything changes, and nothing lasts forever. It just takes the right moment.”
He could be talking about a moment of peace-making and negotiation, but his expression suggests otherwise. And right then, I catch the tiniest quiver of magic, as if his gift tried to flex itself and he yanked it back.
Oh, he has magic all right. And surely it’s a lot with a sacrifice like that.
What kind of immense gift would the Darium emperor allow right under his own roof?
Before I can figure out how to wheedle that information out of Bastien, Varus clears his throat and makes a beckoning gesture. “Come on, young prince. You’re meant to be part of this discussion as well.”
Schooling his face into perfect blankness, the prince stalks over to join his colleagues.
Late that night, I only manage to make it until just after the doors have closed behind the delegates before my mouth gapes in a jaw-creaking yawn. I swipe my hand across my mouth and glance over at Petra. “Did you get anywhere at all with that puffed up lout?”
The queen lets out a low chuckle. “He talked in a lot of circles, certainly. I told him I’d like to see a formal proposal in writing, and he promised to speak to Emperor Tarquin to decide on their required terms, but I suspect we won’t be seeing that.”
Stavros drains the last of his wine from the cup he’s carried with him to the front hall. “He got what he wanted, which was to examine the new ruler of Silana.”
Tinom lets out a huff. “And now the emperor will know she’s no one to be trifled with and that she’s got the full strength of her people supporting her.”
Casimir offers a crooked smile. “It’d have made him very happy if I’d informed him of the few minor points of emotional pressure I’m aware would affect you. He was definitely searching for weaknesses.”
“Darium will keep trying us regardless,” Stavros says, and then adds in a more optimistic tone, “but perhaps they’ll spend a little less time on it now that we’ve got riven magic on our side along with everything else.”
He aims his familiar cocky grin at me, and my heart skips a beat even after all this time.
“The Cotean prince,” I begin, feeling it’s important to mention. “I think he could be a weakness to the empire. If they ever let him get involved with anything important.”
Petra tilts her head to the side. “I’m not sure how that could come into play in protecting our borders, but it’s best to consider every angle.”
I stifle another yawn, and Rheave comes over to slip his hand around my elbow. “I think our favorite riven sorcerer needs her sleep now.”
I mutter some sort of argument, but Petra laughs and waves us off. “I should fill in my siblings on today’s minor results.”
All four of my men draw in around me as we head through the halls to the quarters we’ve been assigned at the back of the palace.
As advisors of various sorts, we’re considered members of the court. Even Alek has his own private quarters, though he still spends many of his nights in his dorm at the college for ease of access to the library.
None of us can complain about the accommodations, but my room is my favorite.
When I step past the door, the large window at the far side shows a view over the sprawling back grounds.
This season’s crops poke from the soil in even rows where a section of the hunting woods has been cleared to make way for a garden Filip has been overseeing.
Moonlight streams down over the treetops beyond.
The thick rug embraces my feet as I pull off my shoes. The built-in shelves that fill nearly all of one wall contain even books to keep me occupied in my less busy moments for many years to come.
And Petra, without comment, supplied me with an absolutely massive bed.
It’s very fine for sprawling out on my own, but the best nights are those when I share it. Now, through unspoken agreement, all four of my men follow me into the room.
I strip down to my underclothes and allow myself to crash into the middle of the mattress. Casimir laughs and tugs the covers out from under me. “Looks like we need to tuck our Kindness in.”
I make a disgruntled sound that peters into a happy sigh as the men clamber onto the immense bed around me.
I’m too exhausted from the intense, hours-long parlay with the Darium delegation to be up for any of the other thrilling activities we’ve frequently enjoyed here, but it’s a special kind of delight just falling asleep with my lovers around me—all of us safe and sound.
Alek has sprawled out near my head. As I start to doze, he caresses his fingers over my hair.
“Ivy,” he says, sounding rather dreamy himself but maintaining his air of academic curiosity, “do you ever wish you’d taken Kosmel up on his offer? Floated around in total contentment for years on end?”
Once I was recovered enough from the trials to pull coherent sentences together, I told all of them about the moments after I opened myself to the gods’ magic and what Kosmel said to me. We’ve never discussed it in much detail, though.
I guess I thought the facts went without saying. I certainly don’t need to think for even a second before I answer, with total honesty.
“No. I couldn’t possibly have been as content as I am in this life I’ve built with you.”
Rheave lets out a rough sound of agreement and kisses my shoulder. Stavros loops his arm around my waist.
The five of us drift off together, ready to face whatever else the world throws at us as one.
* * *
Thank you for coming along with Ivy and her men through their entire epic journey! If you enjoyed your time in their realm, I have good news: there’s another series in the same world!
If you were intrigued by Prince Bastien, his immense sacrifice, and his role in the Darium empire, you can meet him, his fellow foster princes, and a princess they can’t decide whether to hate or love in the Royal Spares series, starting with A Game of Veils…
Or if you’re looking for more academy vibes, heroines undercover, and dangerous magic, you should check out my latest series, The Second Fate of Elodie Devine…
Bloom & Blood (The Second Fate of Elodie Devine #1)