Page 17 of Beyond the Shadowed Earth
She was suddenly, acutely aware of him, his tall frame folded before her, the heat emanating from his body, the strength in his arms underneath his silk robe. He could overpower her so easily, and fear bit at her, causing her to clench her dagger hilt. But he’d asked her to trust him. She let out a breath, and took her hand off her dagger. “Are we in agreement?”
He smiled, something sparking in his dark eyes. “We are, Your Imperial Majesty.”
She smiled too, relieved. “Good. Now get up and tell me what you propose to do about my Barons.”
He did, sinking down beside her on the couch so close their knees touched, his knee still damp from the crushed orange.
They talked for an hour, the tang of citrus fading from the air until all that was left was Ileem’s scent, heady cedar and sharp iron, and the sensation of power, buzzing just beneath his skin. Eda thought she might get drunk on it.
But at last her lack of sleep got the better of her, her head drooping, eyes closing of their own accord. Ileem touched her shoulder and she started awake.
“Perhaps it’s best we reconvene tomorrow, Your Imperial Majesty.”
She nodded, rising and returning to the window. She fumbled for the latch.
“Are you sure you shouldn’t take the conventional route?” Ileem gestured at the door.
“My attendants think I’m sound asleep—it isn’t worth upsetting them.”
“Attendants are awfully excitable,” he agreed. “But let me come with you—to make sure you don’t fall?”
She was offended. “I would neverfall!”
Ileem raised an eyebrow as she climbed up onto the windowsill and nearly tumbled off. “Do you think our god would catch you? You look drunk as a cat. Please let me come.”
She scowled. Even through her haze of exhaustion, she knew it was reckless to bring him with her over the rooftops. Alliance or not, vow or no vow, she still didn’t quite trust him, and there was really nothing to keep him from shoving her to her death and returning to his bed with no one the wiser.
But she was in a reckless mood. “Oh very well, though I didn’t think so refined a man as yourself would ever be caught clambering about on a roof.”
He grinned, joining her at the window. “Whoever told you I was refined was woefully misinformed.”
It was strange, having company as she scrambled over the maze of blue tiles back to her bedchamber. Ileem was quiet, and steady on his feet, his eyes gleaming in the soft starlight. They reached her window before she was quite ready; the night air had revived her a bit, and she no longer wanted to go to bed. For a few moments they both crouched there, considering each other in the dark, the air awash with night-blooming jasmine and the buzz of cicadas.
Ileem smiled at her, soft and slow, and briefly took and pressed her hand in his. “Until tomorrow, Your Imperial Majesty.”
She envied the way he wore his subjection to Tuer, as easily as a loose shirt. It suited him, made him seem shiny and strong. She didn’t know what possessed her, but she reached out and touched his cheek. His stubble was rough under her fingertips; he was human after all.
He didn’t react beyond his deepening smile. She drew her hand back, fighting her flush. “Until tomorrow, Your Highness.”
She grabbed the top edge of her window frame and swung down into her room, where she went, at long last, to bed.
Chapter Seven
EDA STOOD ON THE DAIS IN THE BALLROOM, hugely refreshed after her half night’s sleep—she felt ready to conquer the world. She’d risen early to bathe and dress before the treaty ceremony, and her formal crown weighed heavy on her brow. Green and sapphire skirts pooled around her ankles while her bare arms were painted with silver designs imitating Ileem’s tattoo.
Ileem, Liahstorion, and the Denlahn ambassador Oadem stood beside her on the dais while the gathering crowd of courtiers glanced about with obvious confusion, wondering where Rescarin and the other Barons were.
This was deliberate. On Ileem’s advice, Eda had moved the ceremony an hour earlier and had her personal attendants inform the courtiers but not the Barons. It was a subtle but effective start at undermining their power while emphasizing hers.
The room grew stifling as everyone waited, the courtiers fidgety. Eda sank back onto her ivory throne and instructed her attendants to bring up an elaborately carved chair for Ileem. He sat beside her, and they chatted amicably as they nibbled at a platter of candied mangoes and pretended not to notice the courtiers’ deepening confusion. Oadem stood frowning on the edge of the dais, clearly at a loss without Rescarin.
Liahstorion didn’t speak to Eda or Ileem, just held her scowling post beside the ambassador. She was dressed beautifully this morning in a gauzy rose-pink dress, with a gold headdress to rival Eda’s crown sweeping back her cloud of black hair.
Niren, from her place among the waiting courtiers, looked a mess, her hair unkempt and her trousers wrinkled, her fingers streaked with paint. Eda didn’t doubt Niren had been up most the night working on copying her manuscript.
Eda waited until just a few minutes before the Barons were to arrive then stood from her throne and beckoned Ileem to do the same. “We may as well begin. Count Tarin, may we have the documents?”
Count Tarin, the Imperial Record Keeper, was a wizened little man with long white hair that he tied at the nape of his neck in the old style. He came forward and spread a large scroll of parchment out onto the waiting pedestal table, keeping it in place with a pair of beautiful glass map weights. He drew out a peacock-feather pen and uncorked an ink bottle.
