Page 43 of A Pact of Blood

“Thank you for the assistance,” I say hastily, and hurry on to the imperial offices.

To my surprise, Marclinus’s guards are poised outside the office where I first spoke to him directly—the one he used when he was merely the imperial heir. There’s a larger one for the emperor’s use.

But then, he hasn’t had much time to make the transition. He might have records or books among his things that he wanted to consult.

Even though I’m now his wife, one of his guards knocks for me and announces my arrival rather than letting me speak to Marclinus myself. The initial silence makes my heart sink, but then Marclinus calls back, “Let her in.”

Stepping through the office doorway feels like tumbling back through the weeks to that first private conversation, when I came carrying tea on a tray.

As then, Marclinus is sitting at his desk. He glances up from the documents he’s been perusing with an unusually pensive expression.

He casts his gaze over me from head to toe and back again, his expression tightening. His voice comes out brisk but not harsh. “To what do I owe the pleasure, wife?”

I clasp my hands in front of me and offer the sweetest smile I have in me. No harm done, no hard feelings. “I missed you in the dining room and wanted to make sure all is well. Has some concern arisen that’s urgent enough to keep you from breakfast?”

Marclinus flicks his hand dismissively. “I can eat later. There is…”

He trails off with a more penetrating look at my face. No doubt he’s still hesitant to trust me with all the details of the empire’s business.

I expect him to wave me off too and continue his work alone. Instead, he leans back in his chair and motions for me to draw up the smaller armchair off to the side of the desk. “Sit down. Considering the threats you’ve already faced, I suppose you should be properly informed.”

I tug the chair over and sink into it, appreciating the invitation but uneasy about the rest of his words. “Informed of what?”

Marclinus turns back to his papers. “It appears fresh unrest is stirring in Lavira. Reports have come in of attacks on a couple of our guard posts in the countryside.”

Ah, I can see why that might have distracted him, especially when his own court has been fretting about the conquered countries rebelling. At least it has nothing to do with me or his foster brothers.

I just have to pretend that I don’t think the rebels have a legitimate cause.

I tilt my head to show I’m considering the matter. “Doyou have reason to believe the attacks are part of a larger movement? It could simply be locals lashing out without any real organization. Two incidents aren’t too much to be coincidence.”

My husband grimaces. “The local forces are investigating. But my father had issues with Lavira shortly after he took the throne—I’ve just been reading through those accounts. It wouldn’t be surprising for us to see a resurgence in anti-imperial sentiments at another transition point.”

“I’m sure you’ll deal with them as effectively as he did.” In horrific, brutal fashion that I’d rather not think about. “If it’s only a couple of small, isolated instances at the moment, I’d imagine it’s better to wait for more information before drawing conclusions.”

“That’s your dedication to Elox talking.” Marclinus’s fingers flex around the metal pen he was toying with. “A couple of assaulted guard posts is how the revolt in Velduny began.”

No wonder this particular incident has unsettled him. The rebellion in Velduny is what led to the entire western half of the continent throwing off the empire’s shackles.

The loss happened a century ago, well before even Tarquin’s time, but the imperial family has never stopped trying to regain their former territory. I can’t count how many Accasians—and no doubt civilians from the other conquered countries as well—they’ve thrown into soldier garb and spurred across the Seafell Channel to meet their deaths in vain.

The possibility of losing more territory must gnaw at Marclinus’s ego. How awful would it look if he failed to quell an uprising so soon after he took the throne?

Perhaps if the scenario were different, I’d try to guide him toward a course that would result in that exact outcome. But the empire has stamped out plenty of rebellions in the past.Velduny’s revolutionaries had a couple of major advantages: being far distant from Dariu’s center of power and taking the local forces totally by surprise.

The imperial forces were over-confident back then, too slow to see just how great the threat was. Marclinus would rather err in the opposite direction now and crush any hint of mutiny as brutally as possible. Lavira shares a border with Dariu and is trapped amid the other countries of the empire—they can be stormed from all sides.

All that will come of this incident is more people dead—the exact people I’d want still living to support the changes I hope to make in the future.

I craft my response carefully. “I see your point. And you certainly have more experience in the area of warfare than I do. Elox’s teachings aren’t without their own wisdom, though. Any violence you order in response may spark vengeful anger. I would never deny that you must come down with all force when it’s necessary, but maintaining peace where it’s already established benefits us as well, doesn’t it?”

Marclinus scoffs. “I certainly wouldn’t offer a friendly hand to the thugs who killed those guards.”

I hold up my hands. “And you shouldn’t. Proven criminals must be punished to maintain order. I’m talking more about the possibility of a broader revolt in the making.”

My husband sets down his pen and turns to fully face me. “And what do you think your godlen would say about that?”

I ignore the derisive note in his voice, keeping my own tone subdued. “I’d imagine… that you should avoid any punishments based on suspicion rather than clear proof. Have your representatives seek out the reasons for the current rancor. See if there are matters of discontent that you can address without any real cost, and perhaps that will snuff out enough ill feeling that there’s no need for it to come to a battle at all.”

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