Page 72 of A Game of Veils

If Aurelia doesn’t die in the trials, she’s going to be chained to Dariu and its tyrants for the rest of her days.

Compassion nibbles at the edges of my skepticism, but Aurelia’s comments could still all be for show. She knows I’ve put her life on the line before. She’d want to earn my support to ensure that doesn’t happen again.

There’s talking vaguely about healing and then there’s outright treason. Let’s see just how honest she’s willing to be.

I rest my hands on the table, watching her. “You hate them, don’t you? Emperor Tarquin and Marclinus?”

Aurelia lifts her gaze from the book. She looks at me searchingly enough that my skin starts to prickle under her regard.

Her voice stays quiet, but it’s even steadier than before. “Maybe not as personally as you must, but yes. It hardly matters.”

Gods smite me, she actually admitted it.

I choke on my laugh. “Hardly matters? You’re trying to marry into the family.”

“And I must take the best match I’m in a position to, just as you had to accept your fostering. Would you ever have fled your duty, knowing how he’d retaliate on your people?”

The answer tumbles out without any thought required. “No.”

There’s something bittersweet about her next smile. “Neither would I. This is the most amazing chance I could have gotten to do something good for my country, maybe for the entire empire. The only kind of chance I could get, since I wasn’t first-born and meant to guide my kingdom directly. I can’t be selfish about it—I’m not going to let everyone who’s counting on me down.”

Enough vehemence runs through her words to convince me, with a shiver down my spine that’s partly regret.

I don’t know if she’ll be able to accomplish even a fraction of what she imagines, but I believe that she’s imagining it. Not just paltry benefits for a chosen few. An actual better world.

Aurelia’s head tilts to the side with a hint of tipsiness. “You must know the palace and its procedures better than just about anyone. Are there ways to get out of the grounds without the guards noticing?”

I stare at her. “I thought you just said you weren’t going to flee?”

She raises her hand to her mouth, stifling what sounds like a giggle. “That wasn’t a very good change in subject, was it? I’m not asking for myself. For a friend. Seeing if I can get started on making a difference sooner rather than later.”

I’m not sure what to make of that statement. What friend could she have who wants to escape the palace?

Even if she’s lying now, it doesn’t make a difference. I don’t have any solutions for her.

“We roam pretty freely in and around the palace,” I say. “But the gates are tightly monitored. If your ‘friend’ wanted to leave without being noticed, I don’t think that would be possible alone. They’d need a collaborator willing to smuggle them out, hidden.”

Aurelia’s brow knits in consternation. “I don’t think she has that. At least not at the moment. And by the time…”

She shakes herself out of her reverie. “Never mind. I’ll continue to think on the problem myself. Thank you for sharing your thoughts.”

So determined even though she knows I’ve had time to study every inch of the palace and its workings. How much would she risk to assist this unknown person?

“If the emperor finds out you arranged something like that,” I start.

Aurelia waves off my warning before I can finish it. “I realize. It’s just a matter of finding a risk worth taking.”

Perhaps I’ve drunk more of the ambervin liquor than I meant to, because I feel abruptly off-balance. That’s the only explanation I can come up with for what I say next.

“Do you want to see what I actually come in here to do?”

Curiosity sparks in Aurelia’s compelling eyes. “Absolutely.”

I move to the smaller ledgers on the lower shelves. “These are the accounts of all the nobles who reside with the imperial court at least some of the year. Let’s see. Why don’t we start with Viceroy Ennius and his lovely wife, Bianca?”

The corners of Aurelia’s mouth tick upward. As I open the ledger, she comes around the table to stand next to me. Not close enough to touch, but my body tingles into sharper alertness at her presence.

I retrieve a pen and a small pot of ink from the desk drawer and consider the most recent items on the list. “These requisitions haven’t yet been fulfilled. Why shouldn’t they pay a little more for that new mirror? This three can easily become an eight.”

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