Page 140 of A Game of Veils

No matter how much of his approval I’ve earned, all it will take is one wrong step, and he’ll throw me away. Even after Marclinus and I have said our vows.

Everything depends on how well I play this last stage of the game.

Chapter Forty-Three

Aurelia

By dinner, the imperial heir is back in one of his buoyantly irreverent moods. He seats Fausta and me at either side of his gilded chair at the foot of the table, and sometimes when he leans forward to snatch something off a platter or laugh at his own jokes, he slides one hand beneath the tabletop to caress my thigh.

I suspect he’s doing the same to Fausta here and there. A hint of pink colors her porcelain complexion. When she’s not aiming bright smiles of false friendship my way, she’s gazing at him coyly through her eyelashes and tossing her hair flirtatiously over her shoulder.

I laugh and smile and lower my eyelashes too, aiming for a more modest version of her encouragement. I don’t actually want him getting any bolder.

As if to make up for the attention he’s offered us over his third prospective bride, Marclinus swoops in on Leonette as soon as the court has moved to the hall of entertainments. He guides her closer to the musicians with his hand lingering on her back, just above her ass.

Neven is already standing nearby, watching the performers avidly. I spot Bastien keeping an eye on him from one of the cards tables. Raul and Lorenzo, who Emperor Tarquin didn’t order to perform tonight, have joined a game of darts.

I tug my gaze away as soon as I’ve noticed them, not wanting anyone else to notice me studying them. Which is a good thing, because my traveling gaze lands on Fausta just as she ducks out of the room.

Something about her stride strikes me as furtive. With a prickle of apprehension, I slip after her.

When I peek out into the hall, her petite form is just passing around the bend to my left. I hurry after her, my slippers nearly silent on the marble tiles.

As I come up on the bend, a faint murmur of voices reaches my ears. I ease my head around the corner, immediately grateful for the statue of some past emperor poised by the wall on the other side which offers me cover.

Halfway down the next hall, Fausta and Bianca have their heads bowed together in quiet conversation. I can’t make out their voices, but Bianca passes something to Fausta, partly concealed by the fabric of the cloak she’s wearing.

Did she go right out of the palace to get whatever item she’s brought for her friend?

They share a sharp laugh. When Fausta turns toward my end of the hall, her expression is so smug you’d think she’d already been crowned empress.

A chill courses down my back. I knew she had to be up to something, that there was no way she’d truly be backing down from making this competition a fight, but I have no idea what to expect from her tomorrow.

I can’t imagine what the final trial will even be, other than presumably it’ll prove the grandest of them all. Was Bianca able to uncover details in advance like she has before?

How many opportunities will Fausta get to sabotage me? What is she planning that’s left her so confident?

I can’t linger to speculate while she ambles toward me. With my gut clenched, I hustle back to the hall of entertainments before my rival can realize I followed her.

Once I’ve entered, I stay near the doorway, watching it. Perhaps I can find an excuse to accost her and find out what Bianca handed over.

But Fausta doesn’t appear. She must have headed to her chambers instead to secret the illicit item away.

I doubt she’ll bring it into my presence until she’s ready to use it. Presumably tomorrow, during the trials she may also know far more about than I do.

Standing in the midst of the throng of nobles, I feel abruptly adrift.

My one friend is gone, so utterly my entire chest aches to think of her. I certainly can’t ask Melisse if she’s heard any rumors among the palace staff.

The gentlemen and ladies who’ve flattered me in the past few days are looking forward to seeing me jump through whatever hoops Marclinus has in store. They wouldn’t risk his wrath or the diminishing of their fun by helping me prepare.

My gaze catches on Bastien’s auburn head again. He warned me of a coming trial once. Would he have already approached me if he’d stumbled on a clue?

Any of the princes might have seen or heard something that could help me get through tomorrow without them realizing the significance. They’re the only allies I have left. I need to make use of them.

Even if I’m not completely certain where we stand after last night’s fraught encounters.

I drift closer to the dart boards, pretending to be observing the games being played at nearby tables. When I see Lorenzo glance my way at the edge of my vision, I make a hasty twist of my hand.

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