The Princess, page 17
He worked his hands into her hair, allowing himself to get lost in her. Every thought of Lycaon and what awaited him in Lapis fled. There was only her and the pleasure they could enjoy in one another’s company before he was ripped away from her again. She slid a hand under his shirt, his pulse picking up at the feel of her bare skin on his, and he trailed kisses down her neck. He was moments away from easing the shoulder of her gown down to expose more bare skin when a knock at the door startled them both. Valeria’s cheeks flushed as they broke apart from one another and Fabian’s shoulders tensed when the knocking came a second time.
“Your Highness,” one of his guards called. “His Imperial Majesty has requested an audience with you. Immediately.”
Fabian muttered a string of curses under his breath. What in all the seas could Alekos have need for in the middle of the night?
“I will be out shortly!” he called back to the guard before turning to Valeria and taking her arm. “I do not know how long I will be in Lapis,” he quietly said as he led her back over to the servant door. “At least another month, perhaps longer. But I will send word to you once I have returned to Talekos.”
She nodded, her gaze downcast, and he pressed one more light kiss to her lips before gently pushing her through the door. As soon as he’d closed it behind her, he stalked back over to his main bedchamber door, grumbling under his breath as he fixed his mussed hair. He had wanted one last night with Valeria in his bed, but that was clearly going to be stolen from him.
When he stepped into his common room, he found not only his regular guards, but a few of Alekos’ personal guards as well. Fabian fidgeted with the signet ring on his right hand. Alekos would not pull him from his chambers in the dead of night for no reason, and part of him dreaded learning what had prompted such a demand. With almost all of the nobility gathered in Talekos for the celebration of Dimitri’s birth, it had been increasingly clear that discontent was brewing, and that Lycaon was at the center of it. The question was how far would the petulant, trouble-mongering duke take it?
“Let us not keep His Majesty waiting,” Fabian said.
Alekos’ personal guards escorted Fabian out into the hallway, flanking him as Fabian led the way to Alekos’ chambers. The palace was silent, and many of the lamps in the hallways had begun to run low. The festivities of the evening had ended a few hours prior, and any noblemen and their families would be attempting to catch a few hours of rest before dawn. When they reached the large black marble doors, engraved with the serpent and sword seal of the House of Vepi, the guards standing outside of Alekos’ chambers granted Fabian immediate entry. But when he stepped into the common room, he saw no signs of Alekos, another one of his father’s personal guards approaching him instead.
“This way, Your Highness,” the guard said before motioning Fabian to follow him.
Fabian did so, fighting to suppress the quiver that had settled in his middle. There had been many times in his twenty-four years that Alekos had met and moved in secret, all of them for excellent reasons, but Fabian still found himself uneasy as he followed the guard through a series of doors that led into a secluded meeting chamber. Every emperor of Kelnore knew that his life was forever in peril from the moment he first sat on the throne, and as such, the emperor’s chambers had a number of hidden rooms and passageways.
The small rectangular chamber was barren and plain compared to the rest of the emperor’s quarters, with no windows and only a trio of wooden chairs arranged on a handwoven rug that depicted an image of the god of night and war, Noctus, with his pale serpent wrapped around his neck. Alekos was seated in one of the chairs, his expression carefully masked, but Fabian did not miss his father drumming his fingers repeatedly on his thigh.
“Leave us,” Alekos said to the guard, waving the man off.
The guard bowed to Alekos before departing, the thunk of the door echoing in the empty chamber. Alekos waved a hand at the chair across from him. “Take a seat.”
Fabian did as his father bade, resting his hands on the arms of his chair in an attempt to try and control his own mounting tension. Whatever Alekos wished to discuss in such privacy could be nothing good.
“It has recently been made clear to me that Lycaon has had far more success with his treachery than I first believed,” Alekos said, letting out a heavy sigh as he rubbed his temple. “I had called the noblemen here in part to test their loyalties, and to my great disappointment, Lycaon has poisoned almost every single damned one of them. He’s twisted the events of the plague and the raiders to suit his narrative and has drawn countless noblemen to his side as he seeks to plot against me and take the throne for the House of Lapis.”
Fabian stilled, an empty feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. Such threats were nothing new—every emperor of Kelnore had dealt with them for a millennia—but still, hearing such words from his own father was enough to leave a coldness snaking around his middle. “That is treason. Have Lycaon, and his supporters, arrested and be done with it.”
“It is not that simple,” Alekos said with a shake of his head. “Not when Lycaon has every single duke, save for Remus of Darnic, willing to believe his lies. I do not wish to risk bloodshed and further instability to this empire. I need a way to get Lycaon to slither back into the hole that he crawled out of, and I believe I have finally crafted a solution.” He paused, taking in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. “I will never allow the House of Lapis to take the throne, but I can trap Lycaon into an agreement that will partly give him what he feels his bloodline has long been denied. I intend to arrange a marriage between Aurelia and Silvanus, in a way that Lycaon cannot say no to it. His bloodline will be allowed to marry into the Imperial House, and as such, the House of Vepi will show him the favor that he claims he has been unjustly denied. If he continues his plot, I will break the betrothal and malign his character and standing among the nobility in the process. And I will make certain that he understands that if he pushes me, I will not shy away from military force.”
“Breaking the betrothal would make him look like a fool to the noblemen,” Fabian said, rubbing his chin. “He has been relentless in spouting off his claims that no matter how many feats that he, or his sons, have accomplished, the House of Lapis is never acknowledged for its greatness or contributions. But why Aurelia and not Hadriana? Aurelia has improved of late, but there are still many who do not look at her favorably since her illness. Including Lycaon.”
“I have my own purposes for Aurelia. I do not trust Lycaon, and I want the House of Lapis closely watched. As Silvanus’ wife, Aurelia will have the opportunity to be privy to the inner workings of Lycaon’s households. And I know something that Lycaon and the rest of the noblemen do not: that Aurelia’s ability to read and write go far beyond rudimentary skill.”
“So you will trap him and then you will have your own blood spying on him. And what is it that you need of me?”
“For now, you will remain in Lapis and you will continue watching Lycaon’s every move. The marriage will be quick. I intend for it to happen at the anniversary celebration of my coronation in three month’s time. You will, of course, return to Talekos for the wedding, and at that time, you will be granted the full power of the Imperial Navy and Army to drive these damned raiders from these shores. And you will do so, one way or another. You will prove to the people and to the noblemen the might of the blood that runs through your veins, and that you have it in you to rule this empire with the same strength as those who came before you. Lycaon will be quieted and a victory will be given to the House of Vepi in your name.”
Another sense of unease slithered through Fabian, leaving his chest tight. They had been trying to banish the raiders from their shores for almost a full year and had little to show for it. Every one of the Kelnorian victories had been slim, and while the Imperial Army and Navy outnumbered the invaders from the west, they had little with which to combat their magic.
“And what of the raiders’ magic?” Fabian asked. “And the very real possibility of them being aided by sirens?”
“Their magic is of no consequence,” Alekos said, his jaw tightening. “Do not be a coward, Fabian. I’m sending you to defeat these raiders, not come up with excuses.”
Fabian ducked his chin, Alekos’ sharp tone leaving him shifting in his seat. “And the sirens?”
“The sirens are little more than stories,” Alekos said with an agitated wave of his hand. “They were purged from these waters centuries ago. I will grant that these raiders from the west clearly have unnatural abilities, but this talk of sirens is simply that: talk.”
“There is more than just talk. There has been evidence that points to the sirens’ existence and involvement. I have seen such evidence for myself.” Fabian cleared his throat, his palms growing sweaty as his pulse ticked up. He hadn’t forgotten the day on the docks in Dives and the glimmer of scales he had seen in the water. “If you wish me to bring about a victory for the empire, I cannot wholly discredit what I, and others, have witnessed.”
“Their existence doesn’t matter,” Alekos said, rapping his knuckles on the arm of his chair. “Whether they are stalking these waters again or if that is nothing more than frightened, cowardly men telling one another outlandish stories, the end result will be the same. You will regain control of Kelnore’s shores, and you will prove yourself as its next emperor. Every resource will be given to you, and once your task has been formally announced in the wake of the wedding, you will not come back to Talekos until you complete it. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Father,” Fabian replied, even as the tightness in his chest grew. He would have no choice but to be victorious, but knowing the foes he faced, he could not stop himself from questioning if Kelnore’s might would be enough in such a fight.
“Return to your chambers,” Alekos said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “And do not speak of what was discussed here.”
Fabian rose to his feet at Alekos’ dismissal and moments later, he was escorted out of the emperor’s chambers by another group of Alekos’ personal guards. As he walked down the empty, shadowy hallway with guards on either side of him, Fabian’s thoughts swirled. The plot that Alekos had spoken of was far from the first time a disgruntled nobleman had tried to place themselves on the throne, but hearing it for himself, in his own time, had brought with it the reminder of the future that would one day await him. Which is why you must show strength and prove to them that you are not to be trifled with, he reminded himself, taking in a deep breath and pulling his shoulders back. And why you must help keep Lycaon in line and win a victory over Kelnore’s enemies, no matter the cost. For one day, he would be emperor, and he could not afford to be seen as weak. Not if he wanted to stay on the throne and keep his life.
Chapter 27
Aurelia had hated seeing Rhiannon and Brynn leave Talekos to return to Pern Coen, but summer had come to an end and the two women had needed to return to their island home while conditions were still favorable for travel. Aurelia had promised Rhiannon that she would write, and Brynn had also promised to send Aurelia what news she could of Erik of Darnic, but the palace still felt like a far lonelier place without them.
At least I still have Sapphirus, Aurelia thought, unable to keep herself from smiling as she watched the wildcat cub tumble across her balcony with a particularly ferocious pounce, chasing after a soft ball that Brynn had made for her. The cub was growing bigger, silently reminding Aurelia of the fierce creature she would one day become, but there was something about the cub’s playful energy and the unconditional love she gave that made Aurelia love her all the more.
Adjusting in her chair, Aurelia turned her gaze to the rolling waters of the bay. The setting sun had painted the sky in brilliant shades of purple and pink as it slowly began its descent below the horizon. The weather had been pleasant after three long days of rain, and once she had returned to her chambers after the small banquet Alekos had arranged for a handful of favored army and naval officers, Aurelia had retreated to the balcony to enjoy the comfortably cool night and the brisk sea breeze.
“Your Highness?”
Aurelia turned in her chair as her newest handmaiden, Sophia, approached, but the abrupt movement left her with a wave of lightheadedness. While she had managed to get better control of her symptoms with Brynn and Rhiannon’s help, they had not vanished. They were very much still with her in every waking and sleeping moment.
“His Majesty has sent for you, Your Highness,” Sophia said.
“Thank you,” Aurelia replied. “Please bring Sapphirus back inside and be certain to keep watch over her until I return.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Sophia coaxed Sapphirus back into the common room with a bit of food, and for not the first time, Aurelia thanked the gods for Sophia’s bravery with the wildcat cub. Many of the other servants had not felt the same.
Aurelia got to her feet with the aid of her cane and walked back into her common room. The gods only knew what Alekos wanted. She had not forgotten what she had overheard weeks ago on the Grandis, nor the conversation she’d had in the gardens with Dimitri before he’d left for Ignis. Alekos was troubled, and Lycaon had everything to do with it. Taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, she let herself out into the hallway. One of the palace guards, an older man whose name she didn’t know, awaited her there, and when he saw her, he bowed.
“Your Highness,” he said. “I am to escort you to His Majesty’s study.”
The guard kept a brisk pace as they made their way through the winding hallways, one that left Aurelia struggling to keep up, even with her cane.
“If you could slow down, please,” she said as they came to one of the many staircases that led down to the palace’s first level.
“His Majesty is not to be kept waiting,” the guard said with an irritated huff.
Aurelia bit the inside of her cheek as she pushed herself to keep up with him as he descended the stairs. By the time they finally reached Alekos’ study, there was a stinging pain in her legs and feet, and her knuckles were white from gripping her cane so tightly. The guards standing at attention outside the study wordlessly opened the doors and Aurelia’s escort remained in the hallway while she stepped inside.
Alekos was seated at his desk, the enormous glass window behind him offering a beautiful view of the bay. The steady scratch of his quill was the only noise in the room and he gave no acknowledgement of Aurelia’s arrival. She eyed the closest chair as another wave of dizziness washed over her, but breaking protocol would not be a good way to start any conversation with Alekos.
“Father,” she said, dipping into an unsteady curtsey. “You sent for me?”
When she straightened, she stumbled and was forced to grab the back of the nearby chair to keep herself from falling.
Alekos looked up at her with a frown. “Yes, I did. Take a seat.”
As she sank into the chair, she was unable to hold back a quiet sigh of relief. The pounding of her heart slowly began to lessen and she felt less like she would faint at any moment. Alekos looked back down at his parchment, his frown deepening as he scrawled a few more times with his quill before pushing it, and the parchment, aside. He got to his feet, striding over to the wooden doors and locking them. A hint of unease coursed through Aurelia, leaving her chest tightening and her pulse picking up again.
“What is said and discussed here tonight will not leave this room,” Alekos said as he returned to his seat. “Is that clear?”
The quiver in Aurelia’s belly grew, even as she nodded. “Yes.”
“I understand that you are not accustomed to being spoken to about such grave and unsavory matters, but being that there is a role you must play in all of this, I have hope that perhaps you are not so delicate that you cannot understand. My own father warned me to never trust the House of Lapis, and I am now seeing just how remiss I have been these last few years as far as Lycaon and his brood are concerned,” Alekos said, his jaw tightening. “Duke Lycaon has come to the conclusion that there are better men than me to lead this empire, men like himself. I did not act swiftly or aggressively enough against him—that has been a clear failure on my part—but I will not sit back and allow him to continue his treachery. The people are restless; many of them feel that I have not done enough for them in the wake of the plague, or protected them as well as I should have from these damned raiders, and they are all too ready to listen to Lycaon’s lies. He has pulled every duke to his side, save for Remus of Darnic, and many of the other lesser noblemen have begun to let him bend their ears as well. In truth, I should arrest Lycaon after uncovering his plot on my life, but I cannot. He has far too many supporters for that. Throw him in a prison cell and I will have a riot on my hands.”
Aurelia’s mouth went dry and her stomach dropped. An assassination attempt? She’d had no idea that Lycaon’s treachery ran so deep. It felt unfathomable to hear, but Alekos would not lie about such things.
“There are many ways to force a man such as Lycaon to yield,” Alekos continued. “What I intend is to both trap and appease him, and by extension, appease the rest of the nobility who have been led to falsely believe that the House of Lapis has been treated unfairly under my rule. And I will do so by forcing him into agreeing to wed his eldest son, Silvanus, to you.”
Silvanus. She could recall Lycaon’s eldest son, albeit vaguely. He was the same age as Fabian, and also in the Imperial Navy. A small part of her loathed the idea of tying herself to the son of the man who was so eager to destroy her own family, but she had a duty to Kelnore. Her future marriage had always been one that would center around an alliance, and if such an alliance was what was necessary to keep the House of Lapis subdued, then marry Silvanus she would. She could see the wisdom in Alekos’ maneuverings. For there was no greater honor, or greater power, for a nobleman than marrying into the bloodline of the Imperial House.
