Chapter 69-The world best tasting wine #3
Only enough to let me breathe.
The ballroom doors opened before me.
Warm music followed as I stepped through them, then dulled when the heavy panels began closing behind me.
The corridor beyond felt almost dark after the ballroom, though lamps burned evenly along the walls.
Gold still edged the pillars. Crystal still decorated the tables.
The palace never truly abandoned excess, even in its quietest passages.
But the air felt cooler.
Cleaner.
There were fewer eyes.
I exhaled.
My shoulders lowered.
Then I stumbled.
My foot caught against the edge of my gown, and my body tilted sharply toward the wall. I corrected too late to avoid striking someone standing near the door.
A hand closed around my elbow.
Steady.
Firm.
I looked up.
Levi stared down at me.
For one long moment, neither of us spoke.
His gaze moved from my face to the ballroom doors, then down toward the glass I no longer carried, as though the missing evidence might still somehow explain me.
Levi rarely needed words when his expression could do the work more efficiently.
I straightened.
The movement required more concentration than I allowed my face to show.
"Your Majesty," he said.
"Levi."
His hand remained around my arm until he seemed convinced I would stay upright without assistance. Even then, he released me slowly.
"Are you all right?"
I smiled.
"I am wonderful."
His raised eyebrow climbed higher.
"That answer made me less certain."
"I did not know I was being examined."
"You nearly fell into the wall."
"I fell into you."
"That is not an improvement."
"You were standing in the way."
"I have been standing here since the ceremony ended."
"Then you had enough time to move."
His mouth pressed into a straight line.
A small giggle escaped me before I could stop it. Levi glanced toward the doors again, as though worried the sound alone might summon my husband.
That was fair.
Achille possessed a remarkable ability to appear whenever someone questioned my safety.
I stepped closer to Levi and lowered my voice.
"Can you tell my husband I am in my office?"
His expression changed immediately.
"No."
I blinked.
"No?"
"No."
"You did not even consider it."
"I considered it before you finished the sentence."
"And?"
"The answer remained no."
"You are my guard."
"I am a captain not just your guard that title belong to the one eyed idiot."
"You still work for me so you must follow my order."
"My orders also include preventing you from wandering through the palace alone after drinking."
"I am not wandering."
"You just walked into me."
"That was a greeting."
"That was a collision."
I looked past him toward the empty corridor, then back at his face.
"What is the worst thing that could happen to me in my own office?"
Levi became very still.
The humor left his expression so completely that I almost regretted asking.
"Would you like the complete list?"
"No."
"Because I have one."
"I believe you."
For one brief second, the corridor seemed quieter than before. Then I laughed softly and brushed the concern aside with one hand.
"You worry too much."
"I serve Achille."
"That is not an answer."
"That is the entire answer."
I turned as though intending to continue walking.
"Tell him in an hour."
Levi caught my meaning half a breath later.
"An hour?"
"Yes."
"No."
I looked over my shoulder. "You say that often."
"Only when you ask me to do something likely to end with my death."
"I am asking you to deliver a message."
"You are asking me to delay telling the emperor that his wife disappeared from a ballroom."
"I did not disappear. I am going to my office."
"Without escort."
"It is inside the palace."
"That has never made anything safer."
I sighed.
The sound came out softer than intended, carrying enough weariness that Levi's face shifted again. He studied me carefully, the way people did when they suspected the smile in front of them concealed something heavier.
"I just want a little time alone," I said.
That was true.
Not the whole truth.
Enough of it.
Levi glanced toward the ballroom doors once more.
Then back at me.
"There is no chance he will fail to notice you are gone for an hour."
"A girl can hope."
"You are the empress."
"Still a girl."
"That does not help."
"It helps me."
He rubbed one hand across his jaw.
I waited.
Patience often worked better than command. People mistook silence for uncertainty and filled it with compromise.
Levi did exactly that.
"Thirty minutes."
"Forty-five."
"Thirty."
"Forty."
"Thirty-five."
I considered him.
He folded his arms.
"That is my final offer."
"You are negotiating with your queen."
"I am trying to survive your husband."
A laugh escaped me again.
This one more genuine.
"Thirty-five minutes."
"And then I tell him where you are."
"Yes."
"And if I decide something is wrong before then, I come after you."
"That seems unnecessary."
"So does everything involving your family."
I turned away.
"Ophelia ."
I stopped.
Levi pointed toward the ballroom.
"Please don't do anything stupid...If anything happens to you, that man will not simply kill me."
"You're being dramatic ?"
"No I'm not I know that man. He will kill me than find a way, to bring me back, and kill me again more slowly because I inconvenienced him the first time."
I looked at his face.
He appeared entirely serious.
"That sounds dramatic."
"Are we forgetting your husband is crazy."
"That is true." I smiled. "Try not to look guilty when you tell him."
"You are enjoying this."
"A little."
"You are actively arranging my execution."
"Only if you fail."
"That is not comforting."
I resumed walking before he could reconsider the agreement. The sound of his sigh followed me down the corridor.
I did not hurry.
I'd be careful not to overdo the drunkenness if Ophelia is still meant to come across as observant and calculating. Here's a version that shows she's tipsy without making her seem incompetent.
The office was only a short walk from the ballroom.
Under normal circumstances, I could have reached it in less than a minute.
Tonight, however, the journey seemed determined to last much longer.
My footsteps wandered ever so slightly across the polished marble, forcing me to slow my pace lest my pride suffer the indignity of losing an argument with the floor. I steadied myself against the wall once, quietly blaming the wine instead of my own willingness to accept another glass.
By the time my office came into view, I felt an almost unreasonable sense of accomplishment.
The familiar oak door stood exactly where I had left it, waiting patiently at the end of the corridor. A faint smile tugged at my lips. At least one thing in the palace had remained perfectly still tonight.
My hand found the brass handle without hesitation. I pushed the door open, slipped inside, and took a brief moment to lean against it after easing it shut behind me, allowing the silence of the room to settle around me.
Silence settled around me.
Not emptiness.
Recognition.
The room smelled of parchment, old wood, smoke, and the faint trace of dried ink.
A fire burned low in the hearth. My desk stood exactly where I had left it months earlier, though the ledgers stacked across it had been rearranged by someone far tidier than me.
A faded rug covered most of the floor. Near one corner, the old ink stain remained from the night I overturned a bottle while reviewing kitchen expenses and then insisted the stain looked intentional.
I had missed this room.
The realization stopped me near the door.
For months, my life had belonged almost entirely to the nursery. Feeding. Sleeping. Waking. Healing. Watching Achille discover that an infant's cough could frighten him more deeply than an army.
I loved those months.
I would have chosen them again.
Still, standing inside my office felt like finding a part of myself I had left behind without noticing.
Here, I was not only a mother.
Not only a wife.
Not only the woman everyone protected because poison had once entered her body.
This room held plans.
Records.
Decisions.
The quiet work that kept a palace alive while rulers received credit for not letting it collapse.
I crossed to the wine rack behind the couch.
My steps remained uneven until the door disappeared from sight.
Then they steadied.
I selected a bottle and examined the seal before opening it. Dark Kyrian wine poured into the glass with a soft, familiar sound. I filled it halfway and carried it toward the couch.
The cushion sank beneath me.
I leaned back.
For several moments, I did nothing except listen.
Music from the ballroom could no longer be heard.
No footsteps hurried toward me.
No door opened under the force of Achille's hand.
Levi was keeping his promise.
Or attempting to.
I lifted the glass, bringing it beneath my nose as though savoring its sweet, inviting aroma.
How unfortunate.
With a practiced motion, I leaned forward and tilted the glass over the vase of fresh flowers resting on the table before me. The dark wine disappeared between the stems, soaking quietly into the water until only a shallow amount remained clinging to the bottom of the cup.
Just enough.
I settled back against the couch, turning the glass lazily in my fingers before setting it where anyone entering would assume I had already enjoyed half of it.
Appearances mattered.
I let my gaze drift around the office.
The room was still.
Peaceful.