Page 30 of A Game of Veils

It seems wisest to start by addressing the trials in the same jaunty attitude he’s displaying. “Should I be looking forward to more excitement today?”

Marclinus clicks his tongue at me. “I can’t be spilling my secrets. It’s more fun if you’re kept on your toes.”

Fun. Yes, that’s exactly how I’d describe watching a woman slump into a pool of her own blood.

I make my smile soften. “It must be a little difficult for you seeing ladies you grew up with fail. I’d imagine you’ve considered some of them friends.” And perhaps more, if Bianca is anything to go by.

The imperial heir strokes his thumb over my arm. “If they consider themselves my friends, they should make a better show of it! There’s no need for you to worry yourself about them.”

He pauses and glances at me sideways with a gleam of curiosity in his eyes. “But you did worry. You tried to reassure poor Timille yesterday.”

Despite his words, his tone remains amused. I can’t detect an ounce of sympathy for the “poor” woman who was reduced to tears and then a corpse at his command.

Is he testing to see if I’ll criticize his approach?

I phrase my answer carefully. “I am dedicated to Elox, after all. I feel I owe it to my godlen to help those in distress when I’m able to.”

“Even if that makes the competition harder for you?”

I lift my shoulders in a slight shrug, wishing I could detach his hand. “I would rather earn your approval through my own merits than someone else’s lack of them.”

Marclinus lets out a bark of a guffaw. “Well, that is a way of looking at things, isn’t it? I can tell you’re a woman of many… merits.”

And there’s that suggestive tone he’s brought out with me before. I ignore the crawling of my skin and latch on to the small opening he’s offered. “I have gotten the impression that some members of your court feel rather resentful of my presence. They believe the entire competition was spurred by my arrival.”

“In a way it was, but they’re bigger asses than they seem if they didn’t catch on that their own demands sparked the idea.” The imperial heir gives another chuckle. “So sour about what they asked my father for. I hope you’re not the type to be shaken by a few jabs here and there.”

I echo his laugh. “Oh, not at all. I did wonder if it might teach them even more of a lesson if they had the opportunity snatched away now that they’ve gotten a taste of it. Declare that the trials have already proven all that was needed and proceed with our wedding.”

Marclinus shoots me a sly look. “Aren’t you the crafty one. What happened to showing off your merits?”

I beam at him as winningly as I’m capable of. “I thought I’d given an excellent demonstration of them already.”

I don’t really have much hope in that particular gambit, and what’s there snuffs out with his laugh. “But we have so much more planned. It’d be a shame to miss out.”

Tipping my head closer to his shoulder, I shift tactics. “I’ve no doubt. And I can see that your father’s approach has its place, even if the loss of life seems a shame. Would you conduct the same tests if you were emperor yourself? It’s thrilling to imagine what brilliant strategies you’d have for taming your court.”

Let him think about the legacy he could be creating. Remind him that he can make decisions apart from his father.

But Marclinus simply smirks. “I think what we have is pretty brilliant as it is. There hasn’t been this much excitement in the palace in years. A good time for all.”

Except for the women dying in the process.

My stomach sinks. I don’t think I’ve gotten through to the imperial heir at all, from any of the angles I’ve attempted.

As we reach the next bend in the hall, Marclinus lets go of my elbow, but only to sling his arm right around my shoulders. He leans in so close his breath tickles over my cheek. “Keep impressing me, Princess, and imagine how much more fun we can have together.”

At the same moment, the youngest of the princes steps out of a room up ahead. Neven glances our way and stiffens with a fierce flash of his eyes beneath his white-blond hair.

Marclinus nips my earlobe and saunters away. The young prince glares at me for a few seconds, his jaw working, and storms off like he’s trailing a thundercloud with him.

No doubt his older foster brothers will hear about my apparent dallying with the imperial heir before the next hour’s bell rings. But every nerve in my body is wound too tight for me to care.

Marclinus’s suggestive whisper echoes through my mind. How much more fun we can have together. With the exact same enjoyment as he spoke of the trials as “good times.”

Gods help me, even if I’m the last bride standing, what will I be able to say I’ve actually won?

Chapter Eleven

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