Page 41 of A Reign of Embers
As the wetnurse returns Coraya to me, I lean closer to my guards. “When we’re done dancing, escort this woman off discreetly and find out why she’d want to harm me.”
For now, it doesn’t matter. For now, all my people see is the happiness I summoned in the place of her anger.
Chapter Fifteen
Aurelia
The memory of the music and mingling laughter buoys me through my walk back to my bedroom through the late-evening shadows. The moment I step through my doorway with Marc at my heels, my mood deflates.
I walk over to my bed and flop down on my back. The weight I’m carrying inside only eases a little.
Marc shifts on his feet at his post by the door. “Are you all right?”
Like he asked the little boy in the square this afternoon—except the ripple of concern is intense enough to roughen his voice more than its usual new gravelly timbre.
I close my eyes. “Naturally. Sabrelle wants me dead even in the middle of celebrating the most joyful and innocent aspects of humanity, she’s got unknown numbers of people from all levels of society willing to do her bidding, and Idon’t really know if I can win the war Valerisse seems to be planning. But otherwise, everything’s wonderful.”
Venting my frustration barely takes the edge off it, and then I’m hit with a smack of shame. Who am I to be complaining when I’m in the most privileged position in the empire?
I’m not going to win any wars or impress any gods by lying around whining about my troubles. I need to get up and keep going.
In just a minute.
I breathe in and out, recovering my scattered nerves. Sprite leaps onto the bed and pads over to join me. As I rub her back, her purr reverberates through my heart.
All right. Here we go.
I force myself upright and onto my feet. My head still feels muddled. Perhaps a soothing cup of tea would help with that. I have plenty of options for clearing the mind and setting one’s spirits in order.
My cat trots with me over to my trunk and twines around my ankles while I take out my brewing equipment. I sit on the rug with her nestled beside me and glance over at Marc. “I don’t suppose you’d like a cup of tea while I’m making some anyway? If you want to help me think.”
He blinks at me, and then one corner of his mouth ticks upward. “I’m honored that you’d include me after I so hastily dismissed your skills before.”
That early day after I arrived at the palace, I brought him tea in his office. He chided me for acting like a servant and sent me away.
It was only a year ago, but it feels centuries distant.
As always, the process of picking out the blend and preparing the cups soothes me. I have enough water in my pitcher that I heat it in my little cauldron rather than calling for a kettle from the kitchen.
As the steaming liquid flows over the dried leaves and herbs, the crisply floral scent winds down into my lungs. I inhale deeper automatically.
“That woman during the presentation of the crafts,” Marc says as I wait for the tea to steep. “A couple of the guards took her back to the palace after. The way you handled her daughter’s offering—how it burst apart—she meant it to hurt you.”
“It appears that way.”
“How did you—” He halts. “The princes. Bastien can manipulate the wind, not just rain clouds, can’t he? He helped you dispose of it in an unthreatening way. Did my foster brothers warn you beforehand?”
I tread into this delicate territory carefully. “They’ve helped me many times over the past year. I doubt I’d still be alive without them.”
And many of the dangers they protected me from, Marc himself was a party to.
The former emperor is silent for a moment. “I didn’t notice anything amiss. Obviously your regular guards didn’t either. I’m grateful my foster brothers watch over you so well.”
That might actually be true, even if he’d rather they didn’t have to.
Before I can decide how to respond, he tilts his head toward me. “You touched her, by the neck and shoulder, right before her mood mellowed out. Did you do something—” His gaze sharpens. “Your ring. You’ve always worn it.”
Even with everything that’s already passed between us, my pulse stutters. I might have been willing to throw the ways I’ve manipulated him in his face, but I’m not sure I feel safe giving him the means to prove it.
