Page 145 of A Pact of Blood

The entire delegation breaks out into grins. “Please, Your Imperial Highness,” the man says.

I lift the wreath crown from his hands and nestle it on my head. Someone in the crowd beyond lets out a whoop, and then the entire square bursts into cheers and clapping and hollers of, “To Empress Aurelia, long may she live!” The soldiers around us add to the applause, many of them grinning themselves.

As the guards usher the delegation off the platform, I can’t hold back my own wider smile. Every beat of my heart resonates with joy.

All the pain I’ve gone through and the risks I’ve taken have been worth it. I’ve truly been accepted—by at least enough of Dariu’s people to have received this honor. What doubters still exist, I simply need more time to win them over too.

Possibly including my own husband.

Marclinus pushes off his seat and holds out his hand to me. “It does appear I’ve chosen well. Let’s give them something worth watching.”

He spins me to the resumed music so abruptly the crown almost tumbles off my head. I only get a second to right itbefore he’s grasped me by the waist to match the dancing below.

I’m not sure whether it’s the presenting of the crown or the spirited music, but my husband appears even more impatient to get to the private part of the night. After he’s led me through three dances and downed another glass of wine, he waves to the crowd once more. “Your empress and I must take our leave, but we look forward to tomorrow’s celebrations!”

I follow him to the waiting carriage without complaint. My skin is still tingling with the knowledge of what I’ve accomplished today.

How could there be a more perfect time to share the news that should earn me if not his full devotion, then at least his dedication to seeing me survive the next several months?

I wait until the carriage is moving, the rasp of the wheels over the paved road obscuring our voices to the guards seated outside. Marclinus slips his arm around me with a stroke of his fingers from my thigh to my ass.

I set my hand against his chest to stop him. “Husband, we have one more joy to celebrate today. Before we left for the festivities, I used one of the common herbal means to test—it appears I’ll soon be providing you with an heir.”

I’m not sure what to expect for the strength of Marclinus’s reaction, but I have no doubt it’ll be positive. So when he simply blinks at me, his leering smile faltering, my pulse stutters.

He seems to recover quickly enough, with a broad smile that I can’t help feeling is a little too tight. “What wonderful news! Are you sure?”

I spread my hands. “We can ask the medics to confirm, but the results seemed quite clear. I have been feeling a little under the weather the past few days—I thought it wasnervousness about the rite, but when it persisted after, it occurred to me to check. We have had plenty of opportunity to produce this result.”

“Indeed we have.” Marclinus chuckles, but something about the sound feels a tad tight too.

My stomach knots. I don’t understand why he seems hesitant to rejoice. Surely he’s wanted an heir? Everyone else in the palace has seemed to think that’s my main purpose to him.

I’d like to think he’s only anxious remembering what befell his own mother in childbirth, but I have trouble believing he cares about my well-being quite that much.

“Many things to celebrate tonight indeed,” Marclinus goes on. He presses his mouth against the side of my neck in a demanding kiss. “What a spectacular time it’ll be! What a wife I have!”

My skin creeps at the manic energy in his voice. Thankfully, it’s a short trip back to the palace. The carriage hitches to a halt before Marclinus can do more than grope halfway up my inner thigh.

To my bewilderment, the moment we’ve clambered out by the front steps, my husband pulls away from me. “Wait for me in your chambers! I have a couple of matters to attend to first.”

What in the world? What “matters”? Minutes ago, he appeared to have no concern for anything but bedding me.

I walk through the halls at a regal pace, suppressing my uneasiness. The moment I push past my door, Sprite bounds to meet me. I scoop her up and flop into one of the armchairs, running my fingers over her soft fur until she’s purring in a resonant thrum.

How long is my husband going to leave me waiting? What will I face when he returns?

Nothing about this situation feels quite right, but I’m soconfused about what could possibly bewrongthat I have no idea how to prepare.

Is Marclinus simply upset about my reception from his people, the fact that they offered me a gift and not him, and that’s bleeding into his reaction to my pregnancy?

As a precaution, I lift the wreath crown from my head and set it gingerly on top of one of my trunks. I’ll need to see about getting a box built for preserving such a treasure.

The minutes slip by. The knots in my stomach multiply. I’d like to crawl into bed and get some sleep, but the last thing I want is for my husband’s arrival to take me by surprise.

The bell is just pealing out the tenth hour of the night when the door swings open and he strides in.

I set down Sprite and get up from the chair. Marclinus walks toward me but stops a few feet away. His gaze sweeps down to my belly and back to my face.

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