Page 44 of A Pact of Blood

“Chatwith the traitors.”

I shrug. “You don’t know yet which citizens are traitors. And it seems to me that you’ll gain a lot more time without additional assaults if the people feel they have no reason to rise up. If they’re simply biding their time until they’re angry enough not to care about the risks, they could strike again at any moment.”

Marclinus swipes his hand over his mouth, the gesture tugging at the scar through his upper lip. Was it one of the rebels in Rione, the one conflict he had a direct hand in tackling under Tarquin’s watch, who left him with that mark?

“I can see there’s some sense to your words,” he says slowly. “Father did always say it’s useful to get differing perspectives, whether they adjust your course or steady you in it. I appreciate that I have a wife who’s able to form a coherent perspective in the first place.”

I can’t tell whether that’s an insult hidden in a compliment, but I’ll take it over outright mockery. “I’m dedicated to supporting you however I can. I can’t hope to match the guidance your father would have supplied, but what little I can offer is yours.”

Marclinus gazes at me for a few moments longer, until my skin starts to creep with memories of last night all over again. But there’s nothing leering or cruel about his expression right now, even if I can’t read what’s going on in his head behind his cool eyes.

Finally, he shakes his head. “Father was only a little older than I am when he needed to take the throne. I’ll manage.”

I catch the start of a dismissal in the words and jump on the one thing I can think of to prolong the conversation—and my chances of proving my devotion. “I appreciate having a husband who looks out for my safety. Why did you feel Ishould know about the potential uprising? Have there been any attacks on Dariu’s soil?”

“Not as yet. And if the Lavirians are smart, they won’t risk it.” The smile Marclinus forms is fierce enough to make my pulse skitter. “Better to be aware than not, though. And we will be traveling not far from their border for the third rite in about a month’s time.”

We’re meant to leave for the second in a matter of days. Perhaps, while he seems positively disposed toward me, I should bring up my intentions. They are an act of devotion of their own, after all.

“True enough. And I was hoping I could accompany you fully in the remaining rites as I did in the first.”

Marclinus catches my meaning in an instant, with a tick of his eyebrow upward. “You want to complete the other three confirmation rites? The first wasn’t enough of a challenge to sate your interest?”

I let my smile turn wry. “I didn’t vie for your hand in order to take things easy after I’d won it. The people seemed to respond well to my demonstration. I’d like all of Dariu to know how committed I am to the empire—and that I have the gods’ approval.”

“Well, I suppose showing the strength of our combined rule will only work to my benefit.” He cocks his head. “You’ll have to face the challenges fairly, though. The advance knowledge is reserved for those of the line already blessed by the gods.”

Is that how he sees the advantage that all but guarantees he makes it through the ceremonies?

“I trust that the gods will see me through,” I say, which is true enough. If my wits and their divine support aren’t strong enough for me to emerge from these introductory challenges unbroken, then I’m hardly up to the greater task I came here to carry out, am I?

The intensity in my husband’s gaze softens just a little. “I certainly haven’t met anyone who could match you for faith, Aurelia, though I suspect your other virtues have at least as much of a role in your victories.”

That was definitely a compliment in its entirety. I think I’ve gained some ground here today, even if I can’t tell which part of my approach won Marclinus over however much.

I’d better leave him on a victorious note.

I ease to my feet with a respectful dip of my head. “I’ll endeavor to continue impressing you.”

His chuckle follows me to the door. “I’m sure you will, wild princess of mine.”

He can say that all he wants, but I’ll never be his.

Chapter Fifteen

Aurelia

Icatch Baronissa Livisse by the cards tables in the hall of entertainments. “I’ve been able to locate a supplier for that Icarian fabric you were interested in. Madam Clea is looking through the offerings now and should be able to take commissions using it as of tomorrow.”

The baronissa claps her hands together in delight and then rests one on the protruding swell of her belly. “It will be nice to have a new gown waiting for me after our little lord or lady arrives. Something to look forward to. Thank you.”

She beams at me, and I smile back. I’m making some progress at warming the court up to me… even if so far their good will is mostly based on what they can get out of me.

Gods only know if the grasping nobles will ever value their empress for more than that. Although somehow Marclinus managed to acknowledge this morning that I havevirtues beyond spreading my legs for him, so it doesn’t seem utterly impossible.

As I turn, I catch Vicerine Saldette glowering my way for an instant before she wrenches her expression into blankness. I aim a careful smile at her through a jab of unreasonable guilt.

I’ve learned that her daughter was Leonette—the woman who survived nearly to the end of the trials with me, whom my last desperate act left for dead. The vicerine has been perfectly polite to my face, but I can always sense a bitter edge underneath.

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