Page 42 of A Pact of Blood

Chapter Fourteen

Aurelia

The seat at the head of the main table remains ominously empty all through breakfast. With each passing minute that our new emperor doesn’t appear before me, with each bite of my meal that turns into a lump in my mouth, the food tastes more like ash.

With each breath, a faint pinching sensation jabs my lungs, leftover from the poison he fed me last night. Every nerve recoils from the memory of our interlude afterward in my bedroom.

Marclinus made no mention of his test as if pretending it’d never happened, but he appeared to revel in my lingering weakness all the same. He chuckled when he had to help my shaky hands peel off my gown. He met the sickly sway of my body with eager caresses and a broad smirk.

The only benefit of his exulting in the temporary feebleness he’d inflicted was it gave plenty of time for thepotion in my ring to take hold once I pricked him. I didn’t have to endure anything more intimate than I’ve needed to allow before.

My husband must have left not long after waking from its stupor, sometime in the middle of the night. The other side of my bed was empty when I woke.

I took some pleasure in his absence then. Now, I can only wonder what new horrors he might be concocting.

Based on last night’s scheme and the way he reacted when Bastien shot my attacker, I have to think he suspects some kind of collusion between his foster brothers and me. He must know perfectly well that what Neven said is true—if none of the palace medics could save Tarquin with their magic, what hope did I have of brewing a cure in the few minutes before his death?

Marclinus’s test didn’t even prove that I couldn’t have, regardless of that fact. Whether my gift works as claimed or not has no bearing on whether Ichoseto use it.

No, the real test wasn’t for me. It was for his hostage princes, to see if any of them appeared overly concerned about my well-being. Possibly hoping they might be moved to violence against their emperor in my defense, so he’d have both proof and an immediate excuse to punish them.

They kept their heads well. Neven was the only one who spoke up for me overtly, with a typical teenage outrage against unfairness that his time in the imperial palace hasn’t quite dulled yet. I don’t think Marclinus will read anything suspicious into that.

I have no idea whether the results of my husband’s test will have erased his suspicions, though. The trials he put his prospective brides through are clear enough proof of how much he enjoys making others suffer.

He might very well prod at the princes several timesmore just for the “fun” of it. And gods only know how he’ll use me again.

I need him to see that my loyalty is unshaken, that I can set aside last night’s cruelty and continue on as his devoted wife. Erase any doubts he might still have aboutme.

If he’s absolutely sure I couldn’t have dallied with any of his foster brothers, his sadistic inclinations will find a new target.

My husband has occasionally lounged around in his bed after a late night rather than joining the court for our morning meal. As soon as I can graciously make my departure, I head back to the imperial apartments.

The sole guard standing by the door to Marclinus’s private chambers simply tells me he’s not in. Frowning, I wander through the halls contemplating where my husband might have gone instead.

Did his advisors call an early morning meeting? I remember seeing Counsel Etta and High Commander Axius at one of the tables during breakfast, though.

I wouldn’t have expected Marclinus to skip a meal for some solitary entertainment. What is he up to?

I come out of the staircase into the second-floor hallway to find Vicerine Bianca mincing by.

She pauses, taking in my expression and the direction I was coming from. “Are you looking for His Imperial Majesty?”

My entire body tenses against the idea of revealing anything at all to this woman. I might not face such an uphill battle winning over the court if she hadn’t done her best to sour her fellow nobles’ opinions about me—and I’m certainly not forgetting how she joined in the attack in the palace woods that left me with multiple broken bones.

On the other hand, she is rather familiar with myhusband. She hasn’t shown any hostility since the trials ended.

It’s always more useful to cultivate allies than to encourage enemies.

I offer a thin smile. “I suppose you know where he is.”

Bianca bobs into a brief curtsy, as if the formality has only just occurred to her. “He’s in his office, Your Imperial Highness. I just spoke with him—he seems rather distracted. Disinterested in company.”

Her mouth tightens with those last words. Her dark gaze rests on me for a moment before she goes on. “But perhaps he’s only dismissing the sort I would offer. You may have better luck.”

Is she admitting that she believes I can offer the man she’s so coveted something she can’t?

I blink at her, startled enough to have to scramble for an answer, and Bianca dips her head again before continuing on down the hall.

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