Page 41 of A Pact of Blood

They’re reining in their emotions that well for her. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen either of them so willfully controlled.

She’s been putting on the riskiest performance of her life to overturn the entire empire. The least we can do is hold our tempers to save her.

Marclinus gives a light laugh. “You have so much faith in my judgment. I appreciate that. But no, my lovely wife hasn’t done anything wrong at all. I was merely curious about a few things.”

He’s brought her to the verge of death out ofcuriosity?

If I didn’t know one of the things he’s most likely curious about is how invested we are in her fate, I’d be springing off this chair to punch him in the face.

What good would that violent act do Aurelia anyway? We’re even more helpless than the night I meddled with herstew. At least then, we could have decided to summon a medic.

We can’t help her at all while the man who rules over us wants her laid low. He’d simply have his guards haul us away.

All the same, my mind launches into a panicked calculation behind my dispassionate mask. If all of us lashed out with our gifts right now, the guards would focus on protecting their emperor first. Is it possible we could spirit Aurelia away in the chaos?

What would be the point of trying when she’s now down to seven or eight minutes of life and we have no idea how to heal her?

This frozen, desperate despair feels all too familiar. It harkens all the way back to the first time I had to stand by while Darium soldiers beat a man to death in the street outside my old palace, when I was all of five years old with my father’s hand gripping my shoulder like a warning.

I’ve never known how to fight back without losing even more.

Aurelia’s the only person I’ve ever met who’s strong and smart enough to pull it off. Unless she’s lost that gamble after all?

Another chuckle cuts through my anguish. Marclinus beckons the slender man who entered earlier toward Aurelia and leans over to peer down at his wife. “My darling, I’d like to confirm that your gift is working properly. Use it to tell us what substance would work as an antidote to the poison that’s afflicting you.”

For a few agonizing seconds, there’s only the strained rasp of Aurelia’s breath. Then she spits out, “Cottermish.”

Marclinus’s gaze flicks to the other man to confirm. He dips his head before fishing a packet out of his pocket.

As I stare at him, a twinge of recognition hits me. I think he’s one of the palace medics.

I’ve never paid all that much attention to their faces. Without the typical white robe showing his dedication to Elox, I didn’t make the connection.

The emperor smiles down at his dying wife. “Very good. It appears your gift is functioning as it should. You may have some of that cottermish now. I was concerned that something might have gone wrong with your blessing from Elox after you failed to come up with a cure for my father.”

My teeth set on edge, but I keep silent. Raul does as well, even though in that moment his glare looks potent enough to sear Marclinus’s head off.

Neven doesn’t have as much self-control—or as much awareness of how much we’re hiding.

“That isn’t fair,” he bursts out. “We all saw Aurelia try to help Emperor Tarquin. He passed so quickly—how would she have had time to make any cure? None of the palace medics could do anything withtheirgifts either.”

As the medic crouches by Aurelia’s head to feed the contents of the packet into her mouth, Marclinus slides his gaze to our youngest foster brother. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

But the emperor simply shakes his head with a rueful grin. “So young and so naïve. Everything is worth testing when it’s a matter so serious.”

Neven frowns, but Raul touches his arm, and he heeds that warning. The kid slumps in his chair, folding his arms over his chest.

In a minute, Aurelia is steady enough to get to her feet. She slides into her chair, her face gone sallow but her spirit as unshakable as ever.

She meets Marclinus’s gaze without flinching. “I’m glad to have cleared up any doubts about my gift.”

“Yes, excellent, excellent.” He pushes her poisoned gobletaside and offers his own. “Have a little undoctored wine and enjoy yourself now. We can all have a pleasant evening.”

I force myself to reach for my own glass, even though I feel ready to vomit.

Did we manage to quell his other suspicions? What will he do to Aurelia if more doubts arise?

No matter what the ordinary citizens of Dariu or our country’s soldiers think of their new empress, she’ll never be safe. Marclinus has just proven that the greatest threat to her survival is the man she has to welcome into her bed.

---