The Princess, page 18
“What is it that you need of me?” she asked, fidgeting with her cane.
“In seven days’ time, a banquet will be held, and all of the dukes will be in attendance. As will you. I will announce your betrothal to Silvanus at that time.”
She nodded. It was a shrewd plan on Alekos’ part. If Lycaon were to denounce the betrothal in front of the rest of his peers, he would look like a fool.
“The wedding will be swift. I cannot afford to give Lycaon time to conjure up new ways to undermine me. And even with this arrangement, Lycaon and the House of Lapis must be closely watched. It has become clear to me that Lycaon sees Fabian’s presence in Lapis as a thorn in his side and another perceived injustice, but you would be another matter entirely. You will keep a close watch on your new husband and his family, and you will inform me of all of the comings and goings of the House of Lapis, no matter how small.”
The quiver was back in her middle again. “You wish me to be some sort of… spy?”
“I wish you to use the skills that you possess for the good of the empire. You can read and write, which will allow you to send and receive messages, delivered by a servant who will be handpicked for such a task.”
She swallowed hard. She had struggled with both reading and writing since she had fallen ill, at times having difficulty concentrating. And now the future of the empire might rest on my ability to use such skills, she thought, her chest tightening again.
Alekos took in a deep breath, pulling his shoulders back as he held her gaze. “This is your duty, to the gods and to the empire, and you must see it through.”
“Yes, Father.”
At his dismissal, she shuffled back over to the doors. The walk down to the study, as well as the weight of the task that had been laid before her, had left her drained and she would be in need of another one of Brynn’s remedies when she reached her chambers. As she followed the guard back up the marble staircase, doubts swirled inside of her. Could she do what Alekos wished? Play the part of Silvanus’ dutiful wife, while also acting as her father’s informant? This is your duty, she reminded herself. She would find a way. The future of the empire, and her family, depended on it.
Chapter 28
When Aurelia had first received the missive from Alekos that she was to wear a black mourning gown to the evening banquet, she’d thought the request odd, though she had done as instructed. But as she stepped through the tall marble doors, her gaze roaming the room, she began to piece together what Alekos’ intentions had perhaps been.
Drapes of black and dark grey covered the windows and the walls, along with a few of the sculptures strategically placed around the banquet hall. The large marble table at the head of the hall had also been draped in black. Dark grey cushions had been placed on each of the chairs, as had bits of ivy and rosemary. Only a handful of lanterns had been lit, leaving the room dim, and the drapes covering the windows kept out the natural evening light.
Alekos was already sitting at the main table, a large piece of parchment laid out in front of him at the table’s center. Chloe and Hadriana were seated beside him and both the women were also dressed in mourning gowns. Regulus, however, was absent, as he’d begun his enlistment in the Imperial Army just a few weeks prior. Aurelia paused when she reached the parchment, her brow wrinkling as she began to read the words written in dark reddish-brown ink that looked disturbingly like blood. The names of each of the dukes had been listed, followed by the date of their birth, and then an empty line. Her gaze traveled the room again. It didn’t look like an ordinary feast for the nobles, it looked like a funeral feast.
“Take a seat, Aurelia.”
Alekos’ words caused her to start, her pulse racing for a brief moment before it thankfully began beating at a more normal rhythm. She did as he bade, coming around to sit next to Hadriana. Like the rest of the family, Alekos was also dressed in black, down to the black pearls inlaid in his numerous gold rings.
“Let this be a lesson to you both,” he said to Aurelia and Hadriana, rubbing his thumb over his empty wine goblet, which had also been painted black—along with every other goblet, plate, and utensil that had been artfully placed across the table. “That everything, from the words you speak to the way you decorate your table, has meaning. Power lies with those who know how to make their own image, and their own reality.” He turned his attention to the small group of guards standing just inside the main doors. “Bring them in!”
The doors were thrust open and one by one, the dukes of Kelnore trickled into the room. Unlike the Imperial family, they were dressed in an array of bright colors, from rich purples to bright yellows. Each of them took their seat, and it didn’t take long before they began whispering amongst themselves, their gazes darting around the room as they took in the unexpected scene.
There was Duke Canicus of Calidi, one of Chloe’s uncles who would soon pass the title of their mother’s ancestral home onto Dimitri at Alekos’ command, and Duke Hampus of Primun, along with Duke Osvaldus of Ignis. Duke Remus of Darnic stayed close to Duke Bernadus of Viribus and Duke Markus of Dineum. Lycaon was the last of the dukes to enter the room, and the smug smile on his face waned ever so slightly as he looked around at the macabre scene that Alekos had created. As each of the dukes took their seat, Osvaldus’ gaze fell on the large piece of parchment, and he swallowed hard. But when Lycaon caught sight of it mere moments later, he glowered.
“My friends,” Alekos said with a cold smile. “Let us feast.”
Servants, all dressed in shades of black and dark grey, began to enter the room, carrying platters of roasted pork and chicken, along with pitchers of wine. To Aurelia’s relief, the servants brought out water as well, which allowed her to avoid the wine without too much difficulty. Since her illness, any sort of spirits made her symptoms worse, and Brynn had given her strict instructions to avoid them.
The platters were brought around by the servants. At first, the noblemen were hesitant to begin eating, but before long, they were imbibing in plenty of wine and filling their bellies with ample food. Light conversation, encouraged by Alekos, broke out across the table until he tapped loudly on his goblet with one of his utensils. The talk around the table ceased, all of the noblemen turning their gazes to him.
“I have called you here tonight to remember how short this life is,” Alekos said. “Death comes for all of us, even for emperors, and the gods pity the man who has not prepared himself for that inevitable end.” He paused, his gaze briefly traveling to Lycaon. “This empire will outlive me, and I have given much thought to what my legacy will be. I have focused much on my sons in recent years, but I also have to consider the power of alliances and loyalties. It has come to my attention that I have been remiss in planning for Kelnore’s future as far as my daughters are concerned.”
Lycaon loudly cleared his throat. “Your Majesty, your daughters are women. Their futures are already decided.”
“You are not incorrect Lycaon,” Alekos said, a hint of tension creeping into his jaw. “The future of my daughters is decided. It is not a matter of if they will wed; it is a matter of who. Who will strengthen the ties to the Imperial House?” He took a long drink of his wine before setting his goblet back on the table with force, his gaze fixed on Lycaon. “It has also come to my attention that the House of Lapis feels slighted by the Imperial House. The House of Lapis is almost as old as the House of Vepi, going back to the very foundations of Kelnore itself. Those are ties that only a fool would toss aside. Which is why my daughter, Princess Aurelia, will wed the eldest son of the House of Lapis, Lord Silvanus, before the end of the winter season. Solidifying the ties of Kelnore’s oldest houses in blood. A daughter of the Imperial House is a treasure that few men can claim, and one that should never be taken for granted or threatened in any way. May Lord Silvanus and Princess Aurelia live a long life together and may the gods bless them with many sons.”
Lycaon jerked his head back, his eyes widening, and another round of hushed murmurs broke out across the table. Alekos took another sip of his drink, but not before Aurelia caught him flashing a smirk at Lycaon, whose own face had begun to turn bright red.
“A toast!” Remus said, raising his goblet. “To Duke Lycaon’s good fortune!”
Alekos raised his goblet as well. “To the uniting of the House of Vepi and the House of Lapis, and bringing fresh blood into the Imperial House.”
The rest of the noblemen followed Alekos’ lead, but when Lycaon lowered his goblet, wine sloshed over the rim and his face was still bright red. Alekos snapped his fingers and a guard hurried over, carrying a lit candle, which the guard passed to Alekos.
“We will all have a meeting with the god of death,” Alekos said, snapping his fingers again. Another guard hurried over and picked up the parchment full of names from the table’s center, passing it to Alekos. As Alekos took the parchment from the guard, he took a step back from the table. “When our time comes, may we all be welcomed into Noctus’ hallowed halls with honor and find our names on the list of the blessed. For the gods see all, and they know the souls of traitors just as they know the souls of the loyal.”
Alekos brought the candle to the bottom corner of the parchment, lighting it on fire. The smell of smoke filled the air, making Aurelia’s eyes burn, and as the flames continued to lick higher and higher on the parchment, Alekos strode over to a hearth built into a far wall. His movements and steps were quick, but his expression remained one of calm as he tossed the flaming parchment into the hearth just before the flames reached his hands.
“And may we never forget just how easily life can be snuffed out,” he said, turning his focus back to the noblemen, most of whom stared back at him with wide eyes and pale features. “Or the eternal price of suffering that is paid by the souls of those who enter Noctus’ halls with the blood of disloyalty and treachery on their hands. One day we will all have a funeral feast such as this one held in our honor, and I would advise those who do not wish to have one sooner rather than later to remember the price that is paid for treason.”
Alekos resumed his seat at the table and a few moments later, platters of figs and dates, along with pitchers of a sweet wine, were brought out by servants. Aurelia took a small portion of figs, fighting to keep her expression neutral despite the headache that was building. Thank the gods that she would at least have one of Brynn’s remedies awaiting her when she returned to her chambers. She only needed to hold out until then. Alekos had made his point, and he would not draw the banquet out for much longer.
As she continued to nibble on her figs, the nausea in her belly remaining, she could not fully ignore the dark looks that Lycaon was continually sending her, even as the conversation around the table resumed. She was likely not his princess of choice for his son, not with the gossip that still circled the palace regarding her illness and her bizarre choice of companion animal, but she was still a daughter of the Imperial House. Lycaon would lose far more than he would gain if he tried to argue against such a betrothal. Alekos had outsmarted him, and Aurelia suspected he would not be quick to forget his humiliation. It was all the more reason she needed to watch Lycaon’s every move and report back to her father— while being a model of the perfect Kelnorian wife. The path ahead of her would be difficult, of that she was sure, but she would do her duty, both for her father and for her empire.
Chapter 29
“By the gods, being this cold should be outlawed,” Dimitri grumbled, pulling his cloak tighter around himself as he and Luca walked across their current encampment. The frozen, uneven ground left Luca wincing, the leather soles of his boots not protecting him from the continual discomfort, but even still, he had to fight to bite back a laugh at Dimitri’s grousing. The other man had been complaining about the frigid weather for days.
“Come now, Your Highness,” Luca said. “It hasn’t even snowed yet.”
“I’d hoped to avoid experiencing that bizarre phenomenon,” Dimitri replied with a huff.
Luca couldn’t hold back a quiet chuckle. They’d been on Ignis’ northern shoreline, stationed in the port city of Piscatio, for almost a month, and the winter weather had been harsh. For Luca, it was a minor inconvenience, not much colder than the winters he’d grown up with in Darnic, but for Dimitri and most of the rest of their company, their thin southern blood had made the frigid conditions far more uncomfortable and challenging. And even Luca had grown weary of the continual storms that had lashed the coastline. Just a week ago, they had defended Piscatio from another attack, in the middle of a monstrous storm. The Kelnorians had come out the victors, but just barely. Despite the superior numbers of the Imperial Army and Navy, the Kelnorians had still struggled against the magic possessed by the raiders, and they had yet to fully chase them from the empire’s shores.
They continued on through their encampment, passing rows of canvas tents, the smell of smoke thick in the air. Soldiers wandered about all around them, all of them looking equally displeased. Unlike many of the other cities they had been sent to over the last year, Piscatio lacked a formal garrison, something that had made defending it all the more challenging— and uncomfortable. Once inside the tent Luca continued to share with Dimitri, Luca set to starting a fire; they would need the warmth for the long, cold night ahead.
Dimitri threw off his fur-lined scarlet cloak with a sigh, rolling his shoulders. “By the seas. Osvaldus better get his affairs in order and get a damned garrison built here. I cannot fathom how he intends to defend this coastline without one.”
“Hopefully this latest attack will help him realize how truly vulnerable Piscatio is,” Luca said. He threw a few more logs onto the fire.
“One can hope. Opes’ bones, will I be ready to leave this wretched place behind. If it isn’t the damned raiders attacking, it’s having to deal with these damned rumors of sailors spotting sirens in the open water.”
Luca’s thoughts immediately flitted back to the scales he’d seen during the attack in Aestus. It had been almost a year prior, but he hadn’t forgotten the eerie sighting. The people of Piscatio claimed to have seen sirens in the waters before the recent attack. Just two days prior, a hunting party had sailed out into the Salis Sea, the people convinced that they could put a stop to the constant storms and continual attacks if they destroyed the sirens that were rumored to be swimming up and down the coastline. The men had come back with nothing more than rantings and ravings of bright blue water and strange flashes on the horizon. Dimitri had done his part to back Osvaldus in the duke’s assertion that the commoners who had made up the hunting party were hardly reliable sources, but the people of Piscatio were still spooked.
With the fire finally going strongly, Luca discarded his own cloak and pulled a chair over near the flames. Dimitri walked over to a small wooden desk and picked up a pile of correspondence that had arrived for him earlier in the day. As he flipped through the stack of letters, his frown shifted into a smile.
“Aurelia?” Luca asked, taking a seat in the chair so he could remove his boots.
Dimitri nodded, settling in the chair across from Luca as he broke the letter’s red wax seal. “I wish I’d had better news for her about Erik of Darnic, but at least the physician here in Piscatio sounds promising.”
A twinge of guilt left Luca’s chest tight. Remus had done precisely what he had threatened, executing Erik as an example of what would befall those who continued to defy their duke and practice the old ways. Fiona had been furious with Remus, and Luca hated the knowledge that one of the few people who could have helped Aurelia, and so many others, was dead at his father’s hands.
Dimitri had been scouring Piscatio and the surrounding areas furiously for a physician who was familiar with the strange illness that Aurelia suffered from. Eventually, he had found a physician who claimed that he would be able to help, but Luca’s guilt ate at him all the same. According to the last letter that Luca had received from Fiona, Erik had never meant any harm. The healer had only ever tried to help Darnic’s people. But Remus had been unyielding in his insistence that certain practices and beliefs needed to remain long dead and buried. Practices like magic. The thought left Luca flexing one hand as tension crept into his shoulders. Remus did not know the truth of his youngest son’s secret—and Fiona had sworn that he never would—but it was difficult all the same for Luca to sit with the uncomfortable truth that his own father would see his son, his own flesh and blood, differently if he ever learned just how much of Fiona’s blood Luca had inherited.
Leaning back in his chair, Luca let out a long, low breath as Dimitri continued to read his letter. When he finished reading, Dimitri would tell him what Aurelia had shared of the comings and goings of the palace. Fool that Luca was, he had caught himself thinking of her on numerous occasions since his last visit to the palace. Despite knowing that nothing could ever come of it, the memories of her smile, her voice, and her laughter had stayed with him. He hoped that she still fared well and that she still had Sapphirus at her side.
The warmth of the flames eased some of the tension in Luca’s muscles and he’d just started to let his eyes drift shut, fatigue setting in after a long day of patrolling Piscatio’s beaches, when Dimitri suddenly dropped the letter, rubbing his forehead before muttering a curse under his breath.
Luca sat up in his chair. “Bad news?”
“Unexpected news,” Dimitri replied, pausing before shaking his head. “Well, I suppose not truly that unexpected, considering how much unrest there has been in the Imperial Court of late.”
“News such as?”
“Such as Aurelia getting married.”
Luca’s eyes widened. “To whom?”
“Silvanus of Lapis,” Dimitri answered, his lips twisting into a grimace.
A sudden heat flushed Luca’s body. He didn’t know Silvanus as well as Dimitri, but he knew enough. Silvanus was an entirely unsuitable match for Aurelia. For any woman, for that matter. He was arrogant, pretentious, and had developed a reputation for being unnecessarily cruel during his time in the Imperial Navy.
