Chapter 3
NIKIAS
Nikias had everything in place.
The metal piece with Aimilia’s name etched onto it rested in his desk drawer, sitting beside one that bore his name and the ties that would make up the necklaces. Tonight was the night.
He’d been patient, partially because he’d needed time of his own to recover and get everything in order, but mostly for Aimilia’s sake. He stared down at the reports he was supposed to be reading, but all he could think about was the banquet for his mother’s birthday that night.
Hopefully, his mother would be pleased with the development. He had, of course, already intimated to her and his father—in one of the king’s more lucid moments—who he had in mind to be his wife and fulfill his end of their deal. It had just been the timing of it all hadn’t been right.
Not until now.
Of course, they’d been pressuring him for months to get a move on. While Nikias was confident, he still couldn’t deny there was a slight turning to his stomach and a jitter that was manifesting in the way he was incessantly tapping the edge of his quill to the table any moment it wasn’t writing.
A knock sounded on his door. “Son?”
He set his quill to the side and hurriedly grabbed a rag to wipe the ink he’d smudged on his fingers as he called out, “Come in, Mother.”
The door swung open right as Nikias finished getting the last bit of ink off before his mother could see it and comment on how unbecoming it was. Or worse.
His mother, an imposing figure with her elegantly pinned-up hair and gold laurel crown resting among the pale blonde strands, stepped into his study. Nikias rose from his seat and inclined his head. “Happy birthday, Mother, although I intended on telling you this evening.”
She glanced out in the hallway, and Nikias’ breath hitched as he lifted his head. She took another step and shut the door behind her.
He kept his expression completely cold and impassive, no different than a marble statue.
His mother smiled, but there was no warmth in it. Just teeth that might as well have been made of ice as her sharp voice cut through the air. “Thank you, son. I trust all the arrangements have been taken care of?”
Nikias couldn’t help but glance at the closed door. “Of course. I’ve ensured it will be a night to remember. Nothing will go wrong.”
His mother nodded, moving through the room while Nikias stayed perfectly still. She glanced out the window. “The assignments went out yesterday. So I can presume, that’s not what has you hiding away in here?”
Nikias’ heart picked up in tempo. His voice, however, did not waver from its cold monotone. “Imperia can’t run itself.”
She craned her head, watching figures moving in the distance below. His mother looked back over at his desk, eyes narrowing at the reports. “Am I correct in that the healers’ most recent report on your father isn’t on your desk today?”
Nikias swallowed as she left the window and came closer. “I read it yesterday, Mother.”
He should have known even on her birthday she wouldn’t give it a rest.
“And?”
“Mother—” Nikias turned his head to face her, his voice cutting off when he saw how close she was. Too much emotion had slipped into his tone. He cleared his throat.
He was the regent of Imperia. He’d faced the Desero demon and survived her torture.
He could stand up to his mother.
But instead, what he said was, “I’m afraid it contained no new information. You know that. Whatever illness it was that overcame Father will plague him the rest of his days. We already knew that months ago. Now it’s just a matter of time.”
Mother’s lip curled up in a sneer as she came to a stop. She grabbed Nikias’ arm and scoffed, “Illness? You and I know this cannot be any illness. Our healers’ ignorance is killing your king and father.”
Nikias looked down at her. She was only a few inches shorter than him. “We have the best healers in Imperia taking care of Father. I cannot claim to know better than any healer, much less our very best.”
Her grip tightened. Nikias kept his expression emotionless.
He could not let her see through a single crack in his marble facade.
“I know, son. And I know what you do know best. Justice.” She shifted her grip, taking his left wrist in hers. His scars pressed against her palm as she squeezed his arm. “You cannot let the creature who has done this get away with a crime against the crown.”
Nikias lowered his gaze, staring at the scars that had once been the religo lines binding him to Faustina. “I assure you, justice will be done. Should there be a traitor behind Father’s decline, I will find them and have them executed.”
Thankfully, there was no traitor to be found.
But if pretending to investigate kept his mother happy, Nikias would play along.
“Should? Nikias, you know there is. It’s obvious! How can it not be?” She ripped her hand back, nails scratching the religo scars. “What other woman had the means and motive?”
Even if Nikias believed her that it was Hypatia, what could be done about it? They had no proof and they had a peace treaty. Accusing her would only bring back the war Nikias had used his blood to end.
Knowing his mother, though, telling her he wanted to preserve peace wouldn’t end well.
“What do you want me to do, Mother?”
“Make an example of the wretched thing.” Nails dug into his chin, and Nikias was forced to look back up at his mother as she gripped his jaw tightly.
“You’ve let her get away with far too much.
Prove yourself to be worthy of the crown you will soon wear.
” Then she smiled and slackened her grip. “Consider it a gift to me.”
How exactly Nikias was supposed to make an example of a woman who wasn’t even under his rule, he had no idea.
Nikias flexed his jaw and resisted the urge to reach up and touch it. “And here I thought I’d already taken care of that with my plans for your banquet.”
His mother brushed her hands over his shoulders and said, “A devoted son can never give his mother too many gifts for her birthday. The only thing that will make me even happier than I will be after tonight will be to see justice served.”
The engagement necklaces hung in the air even though they were safely tucked into his drawer.
“I will do everything in my power to make that happen.”
Mother let go of him and stepped back. “You’re a good son. Now, I’ll leave you to your work.”
Nikias only nodded as his mother finally went for the door. Each step that took her farther away from him, the easier he breathed.
He just needed to get to tonight and finally propose.
Aimilia would accept. At this point, she had to be wondering what was taking him so long given the rumors had been flying for months about his proposal to her.
Once she accepted, he could handle his mother better with a royal wedding on the way and the leverage of an heir to come soon after.
His mother was walking through the door, when she paused and called out, “Commander Aimilia! Just the woman I want to see.”
After being so still for so many minutes, Nikias nearly crashed into his desk rushing to the door as well. His mother was already in the hallway, heading toward her, Aimilia on the other end of the hallway, eyes wide and frozen in place as she looked over her shoulder at them.
Nikias was out the door, right on his mother’s heels. He quickly outpaced her, saying, “Actually, Mother, if you don’t mind, I believe I will take advantage of this good luck.”
He reached Aimilia first, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and with a slight tug, getting her feet to move with him as he ushered her toward his study.
Mother’s smile was cool and composed as she clasped her hands and stepped aside. “Go on. I’ll have plenty of other opportunities, I’m sure.”
Nikias didn’t look back as he swept Aimilia into his study, even though she was looking over her shoulder at his mother, failing to disguise the panic in her eyes. He let go of Aimilia as soon as they crossed the threshold, shutting the door behind him.
Aimilia pulled away and Nikias leaned against the door.
Now out of his mother’s sight, he could take in his future fiancée fully.
Her red commander’s cloak was wrapped around her shoulders and her hair was elegantly braided back only making him eager to finally be able to detangle them himself and sink his hands into her hair.
Although considering the wild look in her eyes, that possibility seemed a little less likely at the moment.
He cleared his throat. “Don’t tell me you wanted to be forced to entertain my mother for the next hour?”
She blinked at him. “What?”
Nikias pushed off the door and when Aimilia shifted out of his way, he went for his desk.
When his back was turned to Aimilia he reached up, brushing his fingers over his chiton and commander’s cloak.
Once he was reassured they were in place despite his frantic movements, he brushed his fingertips over his jaw. Nothing was showing.
Then he looked back at her. “You were quite unlucky to pass by as soon as my mother left. Well, you would be if I hadn’t managed to get to you first.”
Aimilia’s eyes widened and then she nodded. “Right. Yes. That is… I was going—I suppose it doesn’t really matter now.”
Nikias paused by his desk, brushing his fingertips over the wood. “I’m sure it can wait.”
Aimilia looked at the door, then the window; she shifted her weight, and Nikias could do nothing but stare at her. He desperately wracked his mind for something to say, but his tongue might as well have been made of marble for all that it would move.
His heart started to pick up speed. What was a man supposed to say to a woman hours before he asked her to be his wife?
Nikias hadn’t had to worry about that last time. With the last trial of the graduation tournament taking all their focus, Nikias hadn’t said a word to Faustina that day until he held out his name for her to wear once it was over.
Nikias quickly stamped out the thought. Faustina needed to stay in her grave.