Page 84 of A Pact of Blood

The faces that gaze up at me still show a mix of delight and apprehension, but even those who don’t trust me yet should recognize this gesture of good will. I spread my hands on either side of my airy dress, presenting myself to their observations.

With a huff that might hold an unnerving amount of irritation, Marclinus hefts himself onto the carriage after me. Naturally he doesn’t like to get the impression that he might be outdone.

He stands beside me and tucks his arm around my waist, raising his hand in welcome to his people as if this was all his idea from the start. But I don’t mind. Having him show that he’ll stand by me will only improve my significance in these people’s eyes.

I just have to hope that I haven’t fallen even further in his.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Aurelia

“What are you reading?”

My husband’s cool tone puts me on guard before I even lift my eyes from the book. He’s barely spoken to me in the couple of hours we’ve been on the road this morning, the last short stretch before we reach Vivencia after the delay by Norbina set back our schedule.

Marclinus hasn’t criticized my handling of the situation a few days ago beyond the few snarky remarks he made in the moment, but I get the impression he’s simply pretending it never happened rather than accepting. For the entire journey, he’s alternated between filling our carriage with friends so he doesn’t need to speak to me except in random chatter and burying himself in records and private pondering even more deeply than on the journey east.

This might be the first time in our eight days on the road that he’s shown any interest in my activities while we’re alone. I don’t know if the question is a peace offering of sorts or the prelude to a new battle.

I lift the book so he can see the cover with its ornately lettered title. “It’s an account of the Grotillian Period of Revolt and the imperial strategies for ending the series of uprisings. I thought it might provide some insight useful to the present unrest, should it continue to escalate.”

Actually, I’m mainly interested in the sections that discuss the one empress who ruled during that period and the brief mentions of the wives of the emperors before and after her. I don’t think it’ll do me much good to mention as much to Marclinus, though.

He raises his eyebrows. “You dug that out of the vast library back home when there’d been nothing more than a couple of outpost attacks?”

He considers the capital palace to be “home” then, does he? It makes sense when it seems he and his father spent more than half of their time there compared to the various other imperial estates.

I dip my head as if abashed. “I actually discovered it in the library at the Ubettan residence, which was a little less intimidating to peruse, after the matter seemed worthy of more concern. I hope it’s all right that I borrowed it.”

Marclinus studies me for long enough that the back of my neck prickles. Then his lips curve with a trace of a smile. “I can hardly complain about you immersing yourself in our country’s history.”

He’s certainly complained about many things I’d think show equal commitment to my new role, but I’m not going to mention that either. I bob my head and drop my gaze to return to my reading.

Perhaps some hint of my annoyance showed throughdespite my efforts, or perhaps Marclinus is simply poking at me to see what he can turn up. He waits several seconds, long enough for me to read through a short paragraph in which the author appears to think the empress’s new gown is the worthiest point of focus, and then speaks up again.

“You’re angry with me.”

My eyes dart up with a jolt of surprise I can’t completely suppress. Marclinus gazes back at me, neither his expression nor his tone revealing howhefeels about that statement.

My stomach lurches with the sense that I’m standing at the verge of a precipice. Another trial my husband has decided to spring on me. The carriage rocks with a pothole, setting me even more off-balance.

The literal jolt at least gives me an excuse to brace one hand against the seat, my fingers sinking into the velvet cushion. “Pardon me? I don’t know what you mean.”

Marclinus’s stare doesn’t waver. “You’ve been excessively quiet since Prospira’s rite. You haven’t asked me for news of the current uprising or offered your opinions on it, even while you’re reading up on a similar subject. It seems obvious you’re upset that I changed my mind about how I’d handle Lavira.”

I don’t know whether to be more irritated that he’s prodding me on this subject after he specifically lambasted me for offering my opinion or that he’s missed all the other reasons I’d have to resent him.

It doesn’t matter, since it wouldn’t be wise to admit to the irritation at all.

“You told me that it wasn’t my place to suggest possible strategies,” I say as evenly as possible. “That I should only worry about serving you personally rather than the empire. I thought you wanted me to stay out of that matter.” I glance down at my book. “This is only for my own understanding, so I have a better sense of what you’re going through.”

Marclinus’s jaw works, as if he’s grappling with his temper.

What does he want from me? Is he honestly going to lay into me fornothassling him about his response to the rebellion after he tore into me the last time I dared to question him?

He inhales slowly. “Did it not occur to you that you might serve me by continuing to share your views so that I can be sure I’ve left no possibility unconsidered?”

I can’t stop a bit of an edge from creeping into my voice. “Not when you called the strategies I favor ‘nonsense’ and ‘bullshit,’ no.”

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