Reign of the Eagle, page 183
“Shit.”
There she was, wandering around, dark scowl on her face, hands on her hips.
Edwin stood and brushed off his trousers. “I should probably go see what she wants.”
He met Irena at the ivy-covered bridge over the stream, near the rhododendrons.
“Where have you been?” she asked.
“Seeing Sir Robert,” he whispered. “We were discussing the...project.”
She smiled. “Good for you, darling.” But then her smile faded. “I’ve just come back from town, and I’ve heard the most distressing news.”
“Oh? What happened?” He held out his arm. She took it, and they walked into the rose garden.
“It’s your sister.”
“Fuck me,” groaned Edwin. “What has she done now? I was starting to think she had learned how to be respectable.”
“Far from it,” said Irena, unable to hide her grin. “She has seduced a young prefect in town. And she has been living in sin with him for several weeks now. Not just coupling with him at parties, you understand, but actually living with him.”
“That’s new. She’s never done that before,” said Edwin. He was genuinely disappointed that Elwyn had stopped trying to be good, just as he had started to notice that she was making the effort.
“It’s worse than you think. The boy’s name is Paulinius Severus.” She paused, waiting for him to reply, then added, “Do you know who that is?”
“Um... ‘Severus’ is quite a famous name, isn’t it?”
She shook her head. “The Severi are the richest family in the world, my dear. We don’t have a royal family, as such, but if we did, then they would be it. Paulinius is a direct descendant of our first emperor. His father is Senator Gaius Severus, twice co-consul and personal friend of Emperor Tullius. And my understanding is that the esteemed senator is furious about what his son and your sister are doing.”
“Oh, bugger.” Edwin rubbed his temple with his free hand. “Why does she do these things?”
“Because you let her,” said Irena.
Edwin dropped her arm and turned to look at his wife. “What do you think I could possibly do about it?”
“Force her to listen to you. Make her stop. But I suppose you’d have to have more balls than she does.”
“Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll talk to her.”
Irena smiled again and took his hand, leading him into the shade under a densely-overgrown old grape arbor. “And what will you say when you talk to her?”
“Um...I’ll ask her to stop seeing—”
“No, Edwin! A king does not ask. A king gives orders, and if those orders are not obeyed, then there are severe consequences. Do you understand that?”
“Look, all I’ve ever wanted is for Elwyn to be happy.”
“All you’ve ever wanted?” Irena muttered some Immani profanity. “What about going back to Myrcia? What about regaining your throne? What about restoring the honor of your house? What about our children growing up proud of their name? Don’t you want any of that?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Obviously I want those things, too. It’s a figure of speech.”
“Is it? Thank you for the language lesson. Here’s one for you: ‘Thladias.’ It’s a term from the old Thessalian kingdoms for a man whose balls have been crushed. Elwyn must have yours in a vice grip. Otherwise, you’d stand up to her like a man.”
“Blast it all, Irena. Fine. I’ll make Elwyn stop seeing this Severus fellow.”
Smiling, she came over and kissed him. “There. Was that so hard?”
ELWYN
The smell of bacon and coffee came up the stairs before Paulinius did. It was no longer a surprise when he made breakfast for her, but she always pretended to be surprised, anyway.
“Oh, how wonderful!” she cried, as he came in with the tray. And some sort of citrus juice in a pitcher—that was new. She giggled and pushed the covers back a little. “You really don’t need to keep doing this.”
“It’s no trouble,” he said, putting down the tray. He poured the coffee and juice, and then crawled back into bed to sit next to her.
“My servants are going to get spoiled,” she said. “They’re going to get used to not having to make me breakfast.”
“I don’t think your servants are used to seeing anyone awake in this apartment before noon.”
“Lies and vicious half-truths!” She pelted him with a bit of bread roll. “I used to get up before dawn to go hunting, you know.”
“You don’t need to stop doing that on my account,” he said. “Have you ever hunted in the Silva Vetusta?” This was an ancient park and preserve that started about twenty miles northeast of Teperum.
Elwyn paused with a strip of bacon halfway to her mouth. “No. I didn’t think you could.”
“You can with the proper warrants. I’ll get them for you, if you like.”
“You’re too good to me,” she said. And she snuggled up closer to him as she munched her bacon.
He always denied that he was too good, but he really was. It wasn’t just breakfast or a permit to go hunting. He did all sorts of thoughtful little things for her. He went to the market for her and her housemaids. He went to her dressmaker to pick up clothes for her. If she remarked idly that she liked or disliked a certain color or style of jewelry, he always remembered.
It never had the feel of flattery or ass-kissing, though. Elwyn had experienced enough of that over the years that she could spot it instantly. Paulinius did these things because he liked doing them, and because he liked Elwyn. It was a little hard to believe, but he did. And he wasn’t a pushover. He didn’t act like her slave or worshipper. If she asked him to do something and he didn’t want to do it, he politely refused and explained why.
Sometimes it was hard to remember that he was actually eleven years younger than her. He was poised and self-confident, but never arrogant. Though he was very handsome, he was never vain about it. When he was wrong, he admitted it immediately without embarrassment.
Elwyn knew she had a habit of falling too hard and too fast for people. She knew she should slow down. She knew this might end the same way all her love affairs eventually did: with loneliness and heartbreak and self-reproach. But she couldn’t stop herself from loving Paulinius. She had only known him two months now, but he felt different. He felt “right,” in a way no one else ever had. Not since Lily and Sir Alfred, anyway.
Today they had planned to go riding west of town and have a picnic lunch. She had decided the time had come to tell him that she loved him, if he didn’t do it first, which she suspected he might. But before they could get started, a letter arrived from the Villa Cedra. The message was simple:
I need to see you. Now.
Edwin
So, the picnic was rescheduled for another day, and Elwyn went up to the royal villa, wondering what on earth Edwin could want that was so blasted urgent. Did he want to make up and be friends again? Or was it foolish even to hope for such a thing anymore?
When she arrived, Edwin was talking with Sir Robert Tynsdale and some other men in his study. Probably he hadn’t anticipated that Elwyn would respond so quickly to his summons. She sat and waited outside the door, in the cool shade of the arcaded courtyard. She honestly hadn’t intended to eavesdrop, but she couldn’t help overhearing what the men were saying.
“Muriel won’t be much of a problem,” said Sir Robert. “She’s known to be a heavy drinker of wine. The elder Broderick, as well. They rarely drink together, though.”
“What about young Broderick?” Edwin asked.
“It’s tricky. I’d suggest slipping it in the malzbier he drinks with the Odelandic troops at his headquarters, but now we’re talking about getting poison in three different containers in three different places. That’s vastly more difficult than one bottle in one place.”
The men didn’t seem to be able to come to a conclusion, and the meeting ended soon thereafter. Elwyn heard them coming, ducked into another room, and then came back to Edwin’s study.
He looked quite startled to see her. “Were you listening in?”
“Yes. You’re not seriously going to kill young Cousin Broderick, are you? He saved our lives, remember?”
“I can’t make any promises, Elwyn. It’s none of your concern, and that’s not why I wanted to talk to you. What’s this about you letting a fellow move in with you?”
“Paulinius Severus: that’s his name.” Elwyn crossed her arms. “I’d say he’s none of your concern.”
“None of my concern? Elwyn, his father is a senator! A former co-consul with the emperor! And according to Irena, the senator is furious at you. And at me! He thinks you’re doing this as part of a plot to get money.”
“Bullshit. You must know I don’t care about his family’s money.”
“Good, because the senator might cut his son off without a single farthing. What would you do then? What would you do if I cut off your allowance?”
Elwyn glared at her brother. The threat was as ridiculous as it was cruel. “If you do that, then I’ll go work as a bar wench in the city. I can turn tricks on the side for a little extra—”
Edwin brought his fist down on his desk. “Are you going to stop seeing this Severus fellow or not?”
“I don’t know, Edwin. I can’t make any promises.” She turned and walked out of his study, fuming. He shouted after her, telling her to come back, but she ignored him.
Crossing the courtyard, she came to the little office of the Emissariae. Callista was at work there, translating messages.
“Did you know my brother is plotting to assassinate the Gramirens?” Elwyn asked. “Are you part of this idiocy?”
“I know about it,” said Callista, “but officially we can’t do anything to help. Not without specific orders from Lily or Lord Faustinus or Lady Moira. And because we told his majesty we can’t help, he refuses to tell us what he’s planning. It’s rather frustrating.”
“Orders from higher up...,” Elwyn echoed thoughtfully. Then she reached over Callista and grabbed a sheet of thin rice dispatch paper. “I need to send a message. Can you make sure it gets delivered?”
“Of course. Who’s the recipient?”
“Lily Serrana. I want her to help save young Broderick. I don’t care about his parents. They’re awful people who deserved to die long ago. But he’s a good man, and if Lily remembers anything about...those days, then she should remember that.”
EDWIN
Edwin paced the rose garden, fanning himself with his straw hat. It was beastly hot now in these last days of August, and he would have liked to be inside. Except that Elwyn kept stopping by, trying to talk him out of killing Broderick the younger. And he was starting to get a sneaking suspicion that the Emissariae were spying on him. So he was forced to come out here if he wanted to meet with Sir Robert, or even have a few minutes’ peace by himself.
He heard the gravel crunch and turned to see his wife approaching. She didn’t look happy. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Did you know Elwyn is still living with that Severus boy? She’s totally ignored you, Edwin. You’re powerless to stop her.” She raised an eyebrow. “One might almost say...impotent.”
“Irena, please,” he sighed. He returned to his pacing, and Irena followed him, step for step, hands on her hips.
Deep down, he didn’t really care if Elwyn ignored his orders. Edwin had quietly asked around, and by all accounts, Paulinius Severus was a decent, upstanding sort of fellow. Elwyn seemed happy with him, and Edwin had always hoped that Elwyn would find someone to make her happy.
“Have you noticed that he’s coming to church with her now? The only reason he would do that is if he was thinking of converting. And the only reason he would convert is, well, the same reason I did.”
Edwin stopped and thought about that. He shivered a bit, in spite of the heat. “Oh, Earstien. You don’t think she’s actually planning to marry him, do you?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re betrothed already. And possibly by necessity, if you know what I mean. She’s an old maid, but she’s not so old that she couldn’t get knocked up. Can you imagine how angry the senator will be when he finds out? Can you imagine what he’ll say to the emperor? Some men know how to control their families, Edwin. Some men know how to punish people who disobey them.”
Edwin rushed to his office and wrote a very pointed letter to his older sister. He was polite, of course, but he demanded answers to two questions: first, was she engaged to Severus? And second, was she pregnant? He sent the message off with a footman, and in two hours, the servant was back with Elwyn’s reply:
You are free to imagine whatever you like about me. I do not have to answer your questions. It’s none of your business who I marry and what I do with my body.
“None of your business?” cried Irena, who was unfortunately present to see Elwyn’s letter. “She’s a princess of the Royal House of Sigor, and you’re the head of the house. It’s entirely your business! This is practically treason, Edwin.”
He was furious, and Irena kept pushing him and pushing him. But he still wanted to give Elwyn one last chance. So, he wrote her back, telling her that if she didn’t answer his questions and agree to stop seeing Severus, then her allowance would be cut off, and she would be barred from any court functions.
“You will not be allowed in the villa,” he wrote. “No one in the family will receive you.”
Elwyn wrote back: “Do whatever you like. It’s still none of your business.”
So that was it. He gave the orders to the guards not to admit Elwyn, and he sent notes to his mother and Helena and Lady Rada explaining that they were never to receive Elwyn or visit her. It pained him to do it, but he didn’t see how he had any choice. She had forced his hand. She had put him in a position where he either had to punish her, or he was going to look like a fool in front of the court and his wife.
It still hurt terribly, though. Elwyn had been his best friend for years, and it felt wrong to cut her off like this. He couldn’t talk to Irena about how guilty he felt. Already, she was telling him that he hadn’t done enough to “bring Elwyn to heel,” and she threatened that she wouldn’t have sex with him until he did more. After a while, it made him angry to be around Irena, so he avoided her whenever possible.
In mid-September, after Elwyn had been barred from the villa for two weeks, and Edwin had almost stopped speaking with his wife, Vittoria came into his study one morning with a new girl—a beautiful, curvy brunette with doe eyes and full pink lips.
“This is Rossana, your majesty,” Vittoria said. “She’s a recent recruit, and she’ll be working here with us.”
The girl took his hand and curtsied. Looking up at him with those wide brown eyes, she said, “I’ll do anything I can to please you, your majesty.”
He looked her over for a second, then smiled. “Why don’t you come have a walk with me in the garden?” She took his arm, and he nodded at Vittoria. “Thank you. Don’t let me detain you from your work.”
Of course the first thing he did was to ask Rossana if she could help with the assassination plot. And she seemed much more enthusiastic about the idea than Vittoria and Callista had.
“Oh, I don’t think I’d need to wait for orders,” she said. “I can do anything you like. Though of course the more I knew about what you’re planning, the more I could help.”
They met up in the garden several times that week. She gave him some very good practical advice about poisons, and listened to him vent about his problems with Irena and Elwyn. He didn’t trust Rossana at first, at least not entirely. Then, on Sunday evening, she met him under the grape arbor with a blanket and a bottle of wine.
At the moment she sat on his lap and started unlacing her bodice, he realized she was there to spy on him. The Emissariae and their masters wanted to know what he was planning, and this was their attempt to find out.
He probably should have dumped her off his lap and told her to go to the Void, but he was annoyed at Irena, and he hadn’t had sex in more than two weeks. And then Rossana started doing something with her fingers that made him forget everything else in the world.
They started meeting regularly to have sex and talk about his plans to assassinate the Gramirens. He told her all sorts of fanciful stories about the plot, knowing she would repeat them to her commanders. He told her he was hiring a dozen Odelandic assassins with poisoned knives. He told her he was bringing in the world’s finest archer from Krigadam. He told her he was going to send the Gramirens a roll of silk infected with the plague. He told her he was thinking of giving up on the whole project entirely.
The stories would make the Emissariae look ridiculous later on, when the real plot reached fruition. But maybe they deserved to look ridiculous. It served them right for refusing to help.
ELWYN
She should have known something was up when Paulinius stopped by the trail to tie his boots, even though the laces were fine. But then he said her name, and she turned around to see him there, kneeling.
“I love you,” he said. “Marry me.”
Elwyn dropped her bow and the arrow she’d been holding.
“Holy fuck,” she whispered.
There was a fallen tree nearby, and she groped her way over to sit on it. She felt as if he had smacked her in the chest with a frying pan. This was a complete shock. She had never considered marrying Paulinius, not until Edwin had mentioned the idea in those stupid letters of his. But she hadn’t let herself hope it would really happen.
“I...I...I don’t know what to say,” she gasped.
“A simple ‘yes’ would be more than sufficient,” he said, coming over to sit beside her.
Her breath started coming faster, and she took in great gulps of air, fanning her face. “I should give you a straight answer,” she said, as the tears started. “I’m sorry. I love you, too, Paulinius. It’s just that I’m such an awful person. I really am, and—”
“No, you’re not,” he said, putting an arm around her. “You think you are, but you’re not.”
