Page 81 of A Pact of Blood

“It wassoimpressive watching you fight up close,” the baronissa simpers, peering up at Raul through her eyelashes as she strokes her fingers over his brawny arm.

On the other side of the carriage from the pair, I will my jaw not to clench and my smile to stay mild. When Marclinus invited the prince and a couple of other nobles into our carriage for our third day on the road back to Vivencia, I have to think he predicted the ensuing flirtation. It’s not as if Raul’s reputation in court is any secret.

Is he evaluating my reaction to the other woman’s pawing and Raul’s cocky grin in return? Raul’s interest or lack thereof while in my presence?

Or is the pairing part of some other game I can’t guess at yet? He might be punishing the woman’s husband, who’s sitting next to me, for a transgression I’m not privy to.

Regardless, I have to stay here and respond to my husband’s lively chatter as if I’ve barely noticed what’s developing on the opposite bench. Raul has no choice but to lean closer and make his teasing remarks as if he welcomes the attempted seduction as he would have before.

The nobles will wonder at his lack of interest if he leaves off his rakish ways too suddenly. Has he kept up his pastime of bedding married ladies as some kind of revenge against the court at large?

No matter what promises of devotion he’s offered me, he probablyshould. Even if the thought of him drawing this woman into his embrace makes me want to toss her right out of the carriage.

Marclinus lifts the bottle of wine he liberated from the kitchen at the last waypoint as if in toast. “We should have another arena exhibition while we’re back in the capital. Give the prince of Lavira some proper opponents to show off his skills against!”

He grins with all his teeth, takes a swig from the bottle, and passes it to the baron beside him.

The other man is just lifting the bottle to his lips when the carriage jerks to a stop. As the baron sputters around the sudden slosh of wine into his mouth, one of our soldier escorts appears at the carriage window.

“The bridge is out just up ahead by Norbina, Your Imperial Majesty. The townspeople are already working at repairing it. They think it’ll be secure in another few hours.”

Marclinus sighs. “What’s the next nearest route over the river?”

The soldier grimaces apologetically. “There’s a bridge down by Thavess, but it’d take until the end of the day just to backtrack to the crossroads and make it over there.”

“Fine then. I suppose we’ll wait.” My husband rubs hishands together. “I’ll see if I can motivate the workmen to get on with it a little faster.”

My stomach sours with dread. I ease out of the carriage after Marclinus, not certain what I could do to moderate his whims but feeling I should be in a position to try.

The contingent of cavalry from the front of our convoy has spread out to reinforce the thinner ranks that ride alongside the carriages. Beyond those who’ve remained at the front of the procession, people in plain shirts and trousers are milling around the bank of the river. A heap of wood and stone lies nearby.

Dozens more civilians have gathered along the bank and spread out across the field next to the road, peering at our parade of opulence.

Marclinus strides to the front of the convoy, his guards hustling close behind. He lifts his hand to catch the workers’ attention. “Thank you for your service, my good people! I’ll see that a fine reward is sent your way once I reach the capital. The faster you can get us across this river, the finer it’ll be!”

My anxiety fades. Apparently the wine has left my husband relatively good-humored.

I suppose he wouldn’t last long as emperor if he terrorized even his own country’s people on a daily basis.

Marclinus ambles back along the procession and strikes up a conversation with a couple of marchions from a carriage a couple down from ours. I give our horses a scratch behind their ears and then meander around the vehicle to stretch my legs.

And also to avoid getting back into that enclosed space with my secret lover and his potential new paramour.

A tense muttering passes between some of the soldiers. When I glance toward their protective line along the convoy, the crowd of watching civilians has drawn closer. Ithink it’s expanded as well, with more townspeople venturing over from their homes to gape at the traveling imperial court.

“Give us space!” one of the captains hollers at the nearest onlookers, tugging on his reins so his stallion stamps its feet warningly. “Stay well back from Their Imperial Eminences.”

It’s Marclinus the spectators are particularly interested to observe, isn’t it? Several necks crane as the crowd tries to peer beyond the soldiers to see what he’s doing.

A few of them gaze my way, leaning to look around the cavalry. One woman’s face brightens when our eyes meet. “There’s Empress Aurelia!”

Oh, maybe they’re curious about me as well. I lift my hand in a polite wave.

The focus of the crowd appears to shift, more people moving my way as if hoping to catch a glimpse. As they edge closer to the soldiers again, a flurry of murmurs carries with the faint breeze.

The bits and pieces of comments that reach my ears are a mix of eager and urgent.

“…carried out the rite just like he did!”

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