Excellent. While he’s building loyalty to our empress with the common folk, I’ll steer our military men and women farther along the right path.
I circle the fountain, giving the soldiers gathered in front of it a wide berth, and sink down on the rim at the far side as if resting my legs. When I dip my fingers into the warm water, I can grasp hold of the shadow that drapes across its rippling surface.
Grasp hold and meld its shape to my will.
The soldiers are nattering about some new stallion added to the cavalry’s stables and who’ll get to claim it. I wait until one of them motions toward the fountain’s statue. “Maybe better we leave it up to our godlen of battle, huh?”
As several of the glances flick toward the representation of Sabrelle, I push my will through the shadow.
I can’t see it directly, but the picture I’m creating forms in my mind’s eye: a faint silhouette of a feminine figure in a crown cast across the statue behind the shield, as similar to Aurelia’s looks as I can make such a vague depiction.
I only let it linger for a moment before I release the shadows to fall back into their usual patches.
One of the soldiers has grunted; another inhales with a hitch. “That was—did you see that?”
“What?” asks one of the women who I suppose hadn’t been looking.
Another soldier speaks up in an awed tone. “I think it was a sign from Sabrelle. For a second it looked as if her statue was embracing the empress—shielding her.”
I hold back my satisfied smile and keep sitting there as if I haven’t even noticed their conversation. The reverent murmurs continue for several more exchanges, discussing how much strength Aurelia has shown in the rites so far.
“We’ll have to see how she fares in Sabrelle’s rite at the end,” one concludes, but it’s clear they’ve taken the supposed vision of support to heart. Gods willing, gossip about the incident will spread through their ranks.
Every bit of good will we can generate for our empress gets us a little closer to our goals. With luck, Lorenzo has stirred up more enthusiasm on his end as well.
One of the captains calls to the cluster of soldiers to prepare to move out. As they scatter to their positions and their steeds, I push to my feet.
When I come around the fountain, my feet jar to a stop.Neven is walking briskly toward me—heading for his own carriage, presumably.
The kid hesitates at the sight of me, his tan face flushing slightly beneath his white-blond hair. I’ve been trying to have a conversation with the prince of Goric since his stupid performance in the exhibition a few days ago, but he’s been dodging me and surrounding himself with other nobles at every turn.
He’s not getting away with avoiding me this time.
I stride over and grasp his arm to tug him back around the fountain, where we’ll have a tiny bit of privacy. Neven’s jaw sets, but he follows me without struggling.
As soon as we’re out of view of most of the convoy, I let go, mainly so I can toss my hand in the air in a gesture of frustration.
I manage to keep my voice low, but it comes out in a growl. “What the fuck were you thinking, joining the exhibition? You could have gotten yourself killed. Do you really want to do that to your parents?”
The kid’s chin juts out even more defiantly. “I didn’t, though, did I?”
“You couldn’t have known that. You can never totally predict what’ll happen in the arena.” I drop my voice even lower. “Look what that prick did to me.”
His expression twitches, the only sign that the raging bear’s attack frightened him. “He made sure you survived. He needs us.”
“Not that much, as you well know.” I don’t have to remind him what happened to his brother.
Neven squares his shoulders and aims an even more defiant glare at me. “You’ve been fighting in the arena for years. If you can take the chance, why shouldn’t I?”
“I trained by sparring with the soldiers and practiceanimals for years before that. You’ve only done the basics. And I was older than you for my first exhibition.”
“I’m more ambitious, then.”
I narrow my eyes at him, but his refusal to listen to reason unnerves me at least as much as it angers me. “What’s going on, Neven? You’re throwing yourself into the arena, chatting up high commanders, shutting the rest of us out… If you’ve got a problem, we’re the ones you should be coming to.”
“Why?” Neven demands. “Working together hasn’t gotten us anywhere in all this time. And now we can hardly talk anyway. The three of you like to make your own plans. I’ve got to do something for myself.”
I knit my brow. “We don’t bring you in on every single thing because we’re trying to keep you safe. We all have our own concerns that we don’t involve everyone with. You can have yours. I just want to know why it’sthis.”