Chapter 32
Aristea’s eyelids sagged as she fought off dozing while Duke Braun droned on about the fall equinox celebration preparations.
She’d slept terribly the past few nights; she’d been tossing and turning, afraid to fall asleep in case Mathias or his elf friend came in to slit her throat.
If she did manage to fall asleep, her dreams were haunted by the looming specter.
She would run from it, only for it to appear in front of her once more, beckoning her with a skeletal hand.
The sleepless nights were taking their toll on her.
She couldn’t hear anything the duke was saying.
The room around her was starting to lose focus as her head dipped.
Then someone slammed their hand on the table, and Aristea shot up in her seat.
Duke Reiner was standing, hands splayed on the table in front of him.
“Why are we sitting around discussing festival preparations when a real threat is on our doorstep?”
Mother, at the opposite end of the table, sat up straighter. They’d agreed to keep “Mathias’ little rebellion,” as she had put it, under wraps and to try to keep it secret for now.
“What do you mean, Duke Reiner?” Mother said, her expression neutral, but Aristea saw the worry lines that creased her brow ever so slightly.
“The elves are growing more emboldened, and now our northern alliance is conspicuously absent.” Missing council wasn’t unheard of, especially during apparent times of peace, but Duke Wagner, whom Mathias had confirmed he was conspiring with, and the other northern dukes being absent, was rather suspicious.
Aristea blinked at his red face and around the room to gauge the mixed reactions of the men at the table.
Since the Sun Ceremony, there hadn’t been any new attacks or signs of the elves within the city.
Officially, Mathias had gone into enemy territory to uncover their plot, but who knew how far rumors of his rebellion had traveled.
“I’m not sure what you’re implying,” Mother said coolly.
“I think rebellion is brewing, and your own son is plotting to usurp you with the strength of his paternal uncle and the north behind him.”
“You’re making baseless claims. Prince Mathias is loyal to the empire and would never dream of usurping me,” Mother said.
“Then where is he?” Duke Reiner asked.
There was concerned muttering around the room. Mathias’ original mission into the feral lands was a secret, and if Mother exposed it, she would reveal her fears of an elven attack. But if she didn’t reveal it, it would only give more speculation to fuel the fires of discontent.
Aristea met her mother’s gaze from across the table, arching a brow at her, wondering what she would choose.
“Prince Mathias is on a holy mission for the Avatheos, one that I am not at liberty to disclose.”
“As the only legitimate male Starweber heir left, the prince should be here, learning state,” Duke Hanz said, interjecting. “The Avatheos has Princess Liane. What more does he want from the Starweber line?”
“As Mathias is third in line, I don’t see why that would be necessary. My heir is beside me.” Mother gestured to Aristea across the table.
“And yet she has no husband. A man is necessary to keep a strong grip on the throne,” Duke Reiner said, slamming his hand onto the table.
An uneasy shuffling of bodies filled the silence that stretched out. No one had dared to say anything even half as treasonous before. Aristea was the named and recognized heir.
Aristea’s gaze slid over to Duke Krantz.
He met her gaze and arched a single brow.
Was this his doing? Or was he simply trying to mock her for not siding with him?
If she were stronger, she’d stare the duke down until he looked away, to show she wasn’t intimidated by him and was strong enough to be empress without a consort.
She didn’t need his support or his blasphemous schemes, but her eyes slid to the tabletop first, cowed by her own inadequacy.
A few dukes nodded in agreement with Duke Reiner. She noticed not all of them had been Heinrich’s allies, as she might have assumed, but were dukes who’d fought and helped Mother become empress. A knot was forming in the pit of her stomach.
“Thank you, Duke Reiner, but we have no plans of changing the order of succession,” Mother said, trying to steer the conversation away.
But Duke Reiner’s words had emboldened dissenting voices.
“Even if Princess Aristea were to inherit, who would be her successor? Even if she were to marry and fall pregnant, she’s past her prime to bear children. What if she died in the childbed?” Duke Beutler said.
Aristea’s cheeks flamed, and she resisted the urge to duck her head. Instead, she balled her hands into fists until her nails embedded in her flesh.
“I am still healthy and young, as is my daughter, who isn’t the withered husk you’d make her out to be. Are you so quick to replace me and her when my son-in-law is not even three months dead?” Mother said coldly.
Duke Reiner and the other dukes who’d spoken out lowered their heads, chastised.
Even though she was a woman, Mother had command over the men.
Because they thought of her as the goddess’ chosen; the Golden Blade she had drawn marked her as such.
That same devotion didn’t transfer to Aristea.
She knew this wouldn’t be the last discussion around succession, and while Mathias’ power was growing, Aristea could feel hers slipping.
The meeting ended, and the dukes filed out of the meeting room.
They were still bickering over details of the fall equinox celebration amongst themselves as they exited.
Mother sat at the head of the table; her eyes looked tired as she stared off into the middle distance.
Aristea sat across from her quietly, waiting for her mother to acknowledge her presence.
“Am I a terrible mother for fearing my own son?” Mother asked.
Aristea felt a knot of guilt twist in her stomach because she felt the same.
Had she done the right thing, letting him escape that night, or had she orchestrated her own demise?
He was her brother, after all. She wanted to believe he wouldn’t hurt her, but with the elves involved, she couldn’t be certain.
“I’m worried too. But I equally fear the unrest that has simmered in the palace since Heinrich died,” Aristea confessed.
Mother pinched her brow as she sighed. “Do you resent me for the burden I’ve laid upon you by naming you heir?”
“Never!” Aristea said. She crossed the room to sit beside Mother and reached out to squeeze her hand. “I was born first to continue your legacy, and I will do anything to keep hold of it.”
Mother cupped Aristea’s cheek, searching her face. “I wish I could have been more mother than empress for all three of you. It isn’t fair what I’ve asked of you and will continue to ask of you...”
“I can only try to understand the burden you bear, and I share it with you willingly,” Aristea assured her.
Mother gave her that look, the one when she didn’t believe her but didn’t want to argue.
“Duke Reiner’s outburst today won’t be the last,” Mother said. “This kingdom is no stranger to civil war, and I fear we need to strengthen our position. We don’t know what influence has taken over Mathias, and while I want to hope he can be saved, we must consider alternative paths...”
Her stomach churned. “You mean Duke Mattison,” Aristea said flatly.
“He’s shown interest in you, and it would be a beneficial match. But ultimately, the choice is yours.”
Mother liked to paint it as a choice, but there was no choice at all. Sundland would bring a navy and a new realm positioned near Mathias’ allies, should it come to war. Even if she were to entertain Jonathan and Duke Krantz’s proposal, this was the superior match.
“I’ll consider it,” Aristea said diplomatically.
“This isn’t the choice I’d have you make. Not after...”
Mother didn’t like speaking Heinrich’s name. And with good reason. He was a bad omen that hung over them. A sacrifice she’d endured for the family. And Duke Mattison, no matter how kind, would be another sacrifice she must bear for the empire.
“I know my place,” Aristea said.
Mother sighed as if a great relief had been released and gestured for a servant to come closer.
They presented her with a long, narrow box, which Mother set on the table and pushed toward Aristea.
“Duke Mattison sent a present for you. I planned on having him around for a dinner party. I thought you could wear it and remove the veil to declare your intentions.”
Aristea took the box with gritted teeth. Inside was a necklace with large rubies dripping like blood in a black metal working. She hated it and wished she could toss it on the ground to grind it beneath her slipper. But instead, she accepted it, calling over Yvette to take it to her room.
“I’ll retire the veil then,” Aristea said.
Mother squeezed her hand. “Thank you, Aristea. I know I can always count on you.”
She felt a scream crawling up her throat, but she choked it back.
With nothing left to be said, she excused herself and joined her guards, who were waiting in the hall to escort her to her next appointment.
Mountains of paperwork were waiting for her in her apartment—petitions and reports.
But thinking about sitting and shuffling through papers made her feel suddenly claustrophobic.
She needed fresh air, and so she headed out to the garden.
She had no particular destination in mind and carelessly wandered toward her and Jonathan’s secret spot.
She shouldn’t have been surprised to see him there, leaning against a tree, twisting his cane in his hand nervously.
Her heart leapt traitorously. She was about to turn away when he called out to her.
“Aristea!”
She should walk away. With his limp, he couldn’t catch up if she ran. Or she could tell the guards to keep him away. But rather than do either of those things, she let him march up to her.
“You cannot call me by my first name. What will people think?”
“The truth, that I care for you deeply.”
A blush burned her cheeks. But she crossed her arms rather than acknowledge his flirting. She wasn’t a fool; she recognized his agenda.
“Can we talk?” he asked. His expression was so earnest she couldn’t tell him no.
“Are we not?”
“I lost you once, Aristea. I don’t want to do it again.” He grasped his cane tightly until his knuckles turned white.
“You never had me. I was destined to marry Heinrich, and now I’ll likely marry Duke Mattison. Everything is as it should be.”
“No, it isn’t. You can’t want this.” He took a step toward her. The distance was closing, and her breath hitched.
“My lord.” Her guard cleared his throat, and Jonathan halted his approach. He looked at the guards, then back at her, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I would rather we discuss this in private,” Jonathan said.
“Whatever needs to be said can be said in front of my guard,” Aristea replied coolly.
She needed to widen the gap between them.
She’d let him become too familiar and had opened her heart to a possibility that would never be.
She’d marry Duke Mattison, as her mother had decreed, and become the empress. That was her destiny.
“Then I’ll say it here. I don’t care who knows. Aristea, I love you. I have since we were young, and I was too cowardly to say it back then. But I’ve lived every moment since in regret. Reject me if you must, but I had to let you know.”
The words pierced her like an arrow through the heart. But her ambitions for the future would be shaken by a marriage to someone like Jonathan. She knew in her heart it was either Duke Mattison or no one at all.
She shook her head. “Jonathan—”
His face fell. “I can’t bear to hear you say no, not when I know it’s not what’s in your heart. I don’t want the throne. I want you. Run away with me. Denounce the throne. Whatever you must do. Haven’t you given up enough for the empire? Must you bleed to satisfy the dukes and your mother?”
“It’s not that simple. Mathias...”
“Could be a good emperor. It doesn’t have to always be you, Aristea. You don’t have to give up everything you want for some damned legacy.”
“Is that what you want?” the voice whispered in Aristea’s ear. “Will you give up everything you’ve worked for? All your sacrifices and heartache to become some country lord’s wife?”
A cold chill ran over Aristea. This was the problem, wasn’t it?
Either he was part of some scheme of Duke Krantz’s, or she gave up her goals.
If she ran away with him into exile, she’d still be trapped.
Not by duty to the crown, but beholden to him and his estate, as any other woman was.
The life he offered seemed idyllic, built on a foundation of love, but it was a cage just as much as a marriage to Duke Mattison would be.
“Do you think I’ll be happy as your wife? That I’d be satisfied in the country? This isn’t just my mother’s dream. It’s mine too. I want this.” And she meant it. She was sick of everyone else making the decisions for her. Letting men take the lead.
Jonathan recoiled as if she’d struck him, but she didn’t care.
“Yes,” the voice hissed. “Come to me. Let me fill you with power.”
The voice granted Aristea a new vision. A realm under Aristea’s command, no man in her shadow. Just her and the power she carved out for herself. She didn’t need Jonathan or Duke Mattison.
“Goodbye, Jonathan.” She strode away, not waiting for his reply.