Page 133 of A Pact of Blood

From the bottom of my ingredients box, I retrieve the packet our head medic back home gave me before I left.Because it’s good to know early so you can take every necessary care.

I fish out one of the dried leaves within and study the yellow hue. As my heart thumps faster, I carry it to the toilet, where this time I sit down to relieve myself.

I dip the leaf briefly in the stream and then simply stay there, leaning back against the wall and closing my eyes so I’m not tempted to look. I count a full minute in my head.

Then I hold up the leaf.

The damp material now gleams unmistakably orange in the lantern light that seeps from my bedroom.

A laugh tumbles from my lips, propelled by a surge of joyful relief.

I haven’t been exhausted because of despair or melancholy. I’m tired because my body’s been hard at work on its own part in my plans.

My other hand comes to rest on my belly. But as I keep staring at the evidence of my condition, a tendril of uneasiness unfurls through my nerves.

I’m pregnant. I’m carrying the key to claiming the empire within my womb.

And that means that in the coming rite of blades and blood, I have yet another life to defend.

Chapter Forty-Two

Aurelia

Crouched down by the small prickly shrubs at the edge of the kitchen herb gardens, I pluck one pale yellow blossom and another. I attempted a brew with a few of these earlier this morning, but they were younger flowers, still the brighter yellow they show when the petals first unfurl. Some prodding of my gift has led me to believe that the older blooms will result in a more discreet formula.

My guards stand off to the side several paces away. It’s awfully difficult to collect potion ingredients in private with them tailing me, but they’ve had plenty of time to get used to my odd habits like tea-making.

There’s no way they could realize that the flower I’m harvesting now is for a traitorous scheme rather than my morningherbal blend.

As I tuck the flowers into the pouch at my hip and straighten up, my heart thumps at a rapid, dissonant rhythm. I’m still not happy with the sedative I’ve been trying to craft. How many more chances will I get at brewing it before I have to make do with a version that could expose my plans?

It isn’t just my life on the line now but the men I love’s as well. They’ll be the ones carrying out the last part of the plan—the longest part of the plan, with the most chances of getting caught…

My stomach turns with a fresh wave of nausea. I push the anxiety aside as well as I can.

As I turn to return to the palace, I spot Marclinus striding toward me with High Commander Axius and more than his usual coterie of guards in tow. My pulse hitches to an even faster pace.

My husband comes to a stop by the garden and eyes me up and down. His tone comes out cool. “Wife, what are you doing scrouging around in the dirt?”

Raul’s words about needing to dive down deep in the muck of the empire rise up from my memory. I suppress a slightly hysterical bubble of laughter and simply smile instead.

“I thought to brew myself a new flavor of tea that will put me in particularly bold spirits when it’s time for our next rite.”

“I never would have thought you lacked for boldness,” Marclinus says with a hint of amusement. “I’ll remind you as I have before that we do have servants for certain tasks.”

I shrug as casually as I’m capable of. “My gift shows me exactly what I need, but it isn’t always easy to convey the exact specifications in words. One wrong ingredient can result in unpleasant effects.”

“I suppose that’s to be expected when one brings in anempress who might as well be a medic.” He cocks his head. “I assume this tea isn’t an urgent matter?”

The potion I actually need to brew is, but I can’t tell him that.

I resist the urge to set my hand on my stomach. I’ve only known about the new life growing inside me since last night, but a new protective instinct has already formed that’s focused on my belly.

That new life isn’t going to get a chance to come into being if I’m not alive to support it. I have to protect myself before any other consideration.

And I’m not sure yet whether revealing my condition will skew Marclinus’s unpredictable moods in my favor or not. I want to time the announcement perfectly.

Now, with my fingers sap-stained and several soldiers looking on, definitely doesn’t feel like the right moment, even if claiming a pregnancy-related weakness might get me out of this conversation.

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