5 Dancing With The Devil
DANCING WITH THE DEVIL
THE BAND PLAYED the setting note for the next dance, which, if Princess Marie was correct, was a single-partner waltz. I extended my hand and politely asked, “Would you give me the honor of this dance?”
Wordlessly, the Emperor placed her black-gloved hand in mine, the silver-steel nail sheaths winking in the lamplight.
I stepped close, placing my hand on her waist. The thrill of touching her again sent a shiver through my body, which I ruthlessly repressed.
You have a mission. Stay on mission. For Queen and country.
“You’re looking well,” I said as we began to dance in three-four time. Her body moved fluidly beneath my hand, as she had back at the Academy. “Rulership suits you.”
“Thank you. You look good as well,” she replied, her voice terse. I had hoped for more warmth, but she’d been stiff and awkward when we started dating, too.
I snarked, “It’s all the uniform. Ten years of constant warfare have left me much the worse for wear.”
“If you say so,” she replied, and I mentally kicked myself. She was the new Emperor. She started this war. Blaming her for it would not help my case.
I searched for a meaningful conversation starter, but finding nothing, settled on the inane, “It’s been a while.” She nodded politely. “Over twelve years.” She nodded again. “You’ve come far. Baroness to Emperor.” Another nod. “I would have expected your husband to be in your seat.”
“He didn’t survive the coup,” she said. Another mistake, one which could end the conversation, but her response excited my curiosity.
So a coup had brought the new Emperor to power.
Allied intelligence had never determined whether she’d risen via violent overthrow or if a civil war had followed the old Emperor’s natural death.
I would have loved to ask more about how she gained the throne, but even I knew that would be distasteful. “And your father?” I asked, grasping for conversational straws.
Finally, the Emperor showed a hint of emotion, as her lips twitched into a thin smile. “I made sure he didn’t either.”
I had to remind myself that assassination was the Imperial way. I should not be worried that the Emperor had eliminated someone she despised. “I never liked him anyways.”
“You never met him,” the Emperor said.
“He took you from me. I wish I’d killed him myself.” My response was immediate. I could tell the smile had fallen from my face, and my words were tinged with iron.
However, my less-than-charming outburst did not offend the Emperor. Her mask of ice melted a little. Her eyes drooped sadly, and the hint of a wistful grin played across her mouth. “It wasn’t my first choice either,” she admitted. “But, duty calls.”
“Indeed it does,” I said.
“He thought he could control me from behind the throne,” she said, as though that explained everything. In a way, it did. Imperial inheritance did not work the same as in the Commonwealth, and her father would have been first in line to take the throne should Astrid have fallen.
“Can’t have that,” I said. “Those viziers always wind up wondering why they need to rule through you when they could rule alone.”
“I’m glad you understand. I was worried you Allies would find it…” She paused, searching for the right word. “Distasteful,” she said in the Emperor’s voice.
“I never said I didn’t find it distasteful.” I gave her a moment to look inquisitively at me. “I would have much preferred if you’d killed him before he called you back to the Empire.”
Astrid smiled again, slightly warmer this time. “Yes, but then I’d never have been Emperor.”
Her comment sent several simultaneous thoughts through my head.
Would that have been so bad?
But we would have been together.
Damn the Empire.
And there would have been no war.
But I could say none of those things, not to my Astrid, and definitely not to the Emperor. As I said nothing, Astrid had nothing to reply to, and we lapsed back into silence.
“It’s good to see you,” she said after a few stanzas, sounding more like Astrid than the Emperor.
“And to see you,” I replied.
“I did not expect to see you here,” she commented. “Most attendees outrank you by a considerable margin.”
“True, but I would never have expected to see you here either. Last we met, you were still a baron’s daughter.” I tripped over the memory of her leaving, the pain both emotional and physical that her exit from my life had caused, and had to blink back a sudden pressure of tears.
“It is not unprecedented for barons to rise as I have, even to Imperial rank. But you are still just a captain. I think the next lowest rank I see here is a colonel, as a field marshal’s assistant,” Astrid commented, but she did not look around to confirm. Her eyes were still locked on mine.
“Well, to be honest, I am an assistant as well. I’m only here because of you,” I replied.
Astrid was controlled enough not to start, but her pupils expanded in shock, as though she’d never considered that reaching out via diplomatic channels might bring me back to her. Trying to soften her mood, I leaned in and murmured, “I never thought I’d see you again, not after…”
“… after my father took me away from the Academy,” Astrid finished. I nodded, but could think of nothing to say. It seemed neither could Astrid, as there was another awkward pause while she collected her thoughts.
“It was not my wish to go,” she finally said. “My father arranged my marriage despite my absence.”
“So you said then, but you went anyway,” I replied.
“It was my duty. I had no choice,” she insisted.
“So you said then,” I repeated, a bit of venom in my voice.
Another bout of silence reigned, but Astrid broke it.
“I’m pleased to see you’ve survived.”
“So am I. Did you worry about me?” I asked.
Astrid didn’t reply. I tried to read any expression in her face and found none, but the muscles in her back, under my hand, momentarily tensed. What did that mean? Had she worried about me? My heart fluttered at the thought.
“I like your boots,” Astrid said, changing the subject.
“Thank you. I wasn’t certain they were entirely appropriate with the short mess dress jacket,” I said.
“They make you stand out. I’ll know what to look for, now that I know to look for you,” she said warmly.
She’ll be looking for me, I thought, giddy with the idea, but I tamped it down.
A cordial friendship was the best I could hope for and still be beneficial to the Royal Commonwealth.
Yet I could hardly help myself. I knew this was the Emperor, twelve years removed from my Astrid, but dancing with her felt so very comfortable.
“Your dress is absolutely stunning. I’d say I’ll know what to look for, but you were always easier to pick out of a crowd than I,” I said.
“A Commonwealth crowd, maybe, but were I not Emperor, I would struggle to be seen amongst the demon princes.”
“I’d see you first regardless.” Astrid smiled again. “You’re pretty hard to miss. You’ve clearly grown.”
“Since you last saw me, considerably. Does it change how you see me?” she asked.
I forgot I wasn’t talking to just my old girlfriend, pulled myself a little closer than was entirely proper, feeling the brush of her knee against my thigh, the press of her abdomen against my chest, and breathily replied, “Of course. I want you more since there’s more of you to want.”
It appeared she forgot herself as well because she gave me a sinful smile and said, “You forget yourself. We’re surrounded by my guests.
” Her fingernail caps pricked delectably against my back through my mess dress jacket.
The less thoughtful part of me wished to feel them rake against my bare skin as once they had.
I gave a slight shrug, dancing on my tiptoes to whisper in her ear. “So what? You’re the Emperor. Order everyone away, and we can catch up.”
Astrid’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, but she still looked pleased. “My guards would never leave me alone with an enemy officer.”
I shrugged again. “I guess they can watch, but you have to promise you’ll execute them when we’re done.”
“Why?” she whispered.
“We can’t have them spreading state secrets, can we?” I replied.
“That implies there would be secrets to spread,” she said, “but I don’t intend to make any today. Not before my jubilee day.”
“So there’s hope for the day after,” I instantly replied, and Astrid actually laughed.
Not a massive laugh, but a small, musical glissando down an octave of joyful vocal notes, accentuated by the sudden lack of musical accompaniment from the orchestra.
In the space between the song’s finale and the last note for the bow, more than the instruments had gone quiet.
Not a single voice could be heard, not one murmur or subdued comment.
A wave of unease washed over me. I politely stepped back and, in time with the ultimate note, bowed at the waist. The Emperor, once more in her official character, barely inclined her head, then gestured slightly with her hand to indicate I was dismissed.
There were no words to say, so I said none, walking away from Astrid in a daze. I kept my eyes fixed firmly ahead, focused on nothing in particular, but I could tell every eye in the massive ballroom was upon me.
There was pressure in my ears, as though somebody was pumping helium into my skull. My heart hammered in my chest so hard I felt it would break a rib. My hands trembled, no matter how hard I tried to keep them at my sides, so I clasped them behind my back.
“All right, it’s all right. This way, Captain,” a kind voice said.
I looked up to see Boleslaw’s concerned face as she gently took my arm and guided me to a knot of Commonwealth dignitaries, including the prince.
She gestured, and a hordling scurried up, presenting a silver tray of water glasses.
Boleslaw handed one to me. “Take a moment and catch your breath.”
“Thank you,” I gasped. I sipped the water, then took a proper drink, then gulped the glass down. “It’s not every day you dance with an Emperor.”
“Or your ex-girlfriend,” Boleslaw wryly added.
“Or both,” I finished.
Boleslaw clapped me on the shoulder. “You’re handling it better than I expected.”
I giggled, slightly hysterical. “How bad did you expect?”
Boleslaw shrugged. “I wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d descended into gibbering madness.”
I held up my thumb and forefinger, barely apart. “This close. Stars, I need a drink.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Boleslaw said as she turned me towards the bar, but Prince Aureli stepped from the pack of Commonwealth dignitaries to intercept us. His face was placid, but his eyes were hard as steel.
“What the Fall is going through your head?” he asked, his voice controlled for the public, but low with fury. “Flirting with the Emperor? What on Earth do you think you were doing?”
I didn’t know what I thought I was doing. Flirting with the girl who left me twelve years ago, expecting her to fall back into my arms? Astrid was the Emperor. I’d spent the last ten years killing her soldiers. How could I flirt with the person responsible for killing millions of my countrymen?
But then again, wasn’t that why I was here?
I was tired, mentally exhausted from the efforts of diplomacy and socializing. I thought I had done a great good for our nation today, intimating myself with the leader of our most tenacious enemy, and now the prince was scolding me?
“Exploiting my advantage, Your Highness. Isn’t that why you brought me aboard this venture?” I asked. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve been awake and sober these last forty hours. If I’m to be of any use to our nation, then I desperately need a drink and some stim.”
The Duke of Lynwyzc said nothing, but his eyes followed me as I walked around him.
Other eyes watched me as I made my way to the bar.
As I approached, several people directly in my path shifted, moving ever so slightly to give me a clear route.
When I was ten feet away, two Imperial nobles, each twice my size, stood and opened a space at the bar for me.
Gratefully, I nodded, and found the bartender right in front of me, ready to take my order.
“Whiskey, Eire, couple of fingers. And a hard coffee,” I ordered. The bartender immediately fetched a glass and a bottle, and a second later I held a tumbler in my hand while the barkeep went about mixing my caffeinated beverage.
I turned around and for an instant saw everyone nearby watching me before they pivoted back to their conversations as though I had not caught their curious stares.
Lady d’Lyre’s eyes lingered upon me a moment longer, filled with an emotion I could not identify – intrigue?
Desire? Appraisal? – before she too returned to her conversation.
As I sipped my whiskey, I wondered if I’d made the right decision, flirting with Astrid.
It had felt right in the moment, but this was not my environment.
I could handle a battlefield; I could run a supply depot.
I could even maneuver at an Academy ball, making salacious talk with my beloved girlfriend, knowing we were going home to the same room after the music died and the champagne was corked, but this Crystal Palace?
What if I had made a serious mistake? Now everyone knew me.
One pair of eyes was still upon me. Princess Marie-Christina made eye contact from across the room, then raised an eyebrow in question. I pursed my lips in uncertainty, then smiled. She nodded, then was distracted by the Despotate officer leaning into her personal space.
I sipped my whiskey as my spiked coffee slid next to my elbow.
While I kept my face impassive, inside I felt like grinning, laughing, curling up in a ball and sobbing in a corner.
I’d danced once more with my love and wasn’t sure she was the same woman who’d won my heart long ago.
But she was alive, and so was I, and we had a chance to figure out what that meant.