Page 67 of A Pact of Blood

The cleric pours a bucket of water over my basket to wash the fruit clean as well. Beyond her, Marclinus isgrinning fiercely, as if he’d find it even more fun to toss me back into the mass of leaves and watch me thrash around in them.

I don’t want him to win. Not even in this one rite.

He completed it much more gracefully than I did, but I can show how deeply I understand Prospira’s wishes for the world—wishes this callously selfish man would never consider for anyone except himself.

I reach for my basket again. “I’d like to honor our godlen of abundance in one more way.”

The cleric blinks at me but nods. “As you wish, Your Imperial Highness.”

Marclinus makes a startled sound and opens his mouth as if to interrupt me, but I speak first, loud enough for my voice to ring out over the crowd. “I give this one goldglobe melon to Prospira.”

I set one of the melons on the altar. Then, clutching the basket, I step toward the watching civilians beyond the ring of guards protecting our spot by the altar.

“These fruits should nourish those who need it most. You know your neighbors better than I do. Which families in Ubetta are most in need of an extra meal? Who’s been struggling to make ends meet? Let them be blessed by Prospira’s bounty today.”

Awed eyes stared back at me. Urgent conversations break out throughout the mass of figures.

“Volmus and Sirena should have one to share with their children,” someone hollers to a chorus of agreement. The spectators nudge the couple toward the guards.

I offer one of the melons, and the woman hugs it to her chest. “Thank you,” she says, abruptly teary.

I choke up a little myself before I manage to raise my voice again. “Who else needs a helping hand to live as they should? I have eight more to offer, and I want to see themgiven where Prospira’s help is needed most. Let us all live the happiest and most plentiful lives we can!”

Eager applause reverberates through the crowd alongside more shouted suggestions of the deserving, and I know I’ve truly confirmed myself as their empress today.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Raul

Lively music flows through the sunlit fields outside the palace walls. Thousands of Darium citizens from Ubetta and the neighboring towns have flooded the terrain, chattering and laughing, waving streamers of imperial purple and hollering the emperor’s praises.

But not only the emperor’s. As I’ve prowled along the edges of the area cordoned off for the court nobles’ use, I’ve heard nearly as many voices calling out blessings and gratitude to Empress Aurelia.

Every time, I have to hold my expression in its careful nonchalance, as much as I’d like to grin. The buoyant enthusiasm for the woman I adore—the devotion she deserves from everyone whose life she touches—has nearly washed away the horrific images of her clambering through that patch of vicious vines two days ago.

Her whole dress was splattered scarlet by the end. It tookall my self-control not to charge in and carry her up the side of the damned hollow rather than watching her swaying steps.

I may be tutoring her in combat, but I’m learning all kinds of lessons from her in the patience my parents fretted I’d never be capable of.

She still managed to give off a perfectly serene air as she handed over most of her collected bounty to the needy families whose neighbors called them forward. She looked like a godlen brought to life—a moving, breathing manifestation of the divinity of peace.

I already knew she was incredible, but watching that demonstration, I could believe she really will conquer the entire empire through the sheer goodness of her heart. Clearly an awful lot of Darium’s common folk were equally affected.

Even now, in a new airy dress of dove gray, she’s standing at the edge of the imperial area, beaming at a couple who’ve approached and resting her hand briefly on their young daughter’s head as if in benediction. Her guards remain poised on either side, braced to leap in at any sign of threat, but Aurelia shows no sign of concern.

This is the role she’s meant to fulfill. Not a lesser princess bullied and tormented at the emperor’s whim, but a ruler in her own right, one who leads through respect and honor rather than brutality.

A few months ago, I’d have said that idea was a fanciful dream. Now…

Even though I can’t risk ambling close enough to hear her words, even though I may never get to caress her skin or summon her sighs again, more faith is stirring in my chest than I’ve felt in my entire life before.

In the midst of our reserved area, Marclinus hops up onto the temporary dais and claps his hands. Theamplification charm he’s donned pitches his jovial voice over the entire festival grounds.

“We’ve had a wonderful time celebrating with you all these past days! I thank every one of you for your joyful welcome. My court and I must return to the palace for the afternoon to see to the well-being of the empire, but you may continue to partake of all the refreshments and entertainments through nightfall. We look forward to joining you again tomorrow.”

Thank the gods. I might appreciate the affection that’s being offered to my woman, but the extended celebrations that come with the confirmation rites get tiring after a while. And I’d rather not have to listen to one more civilian gushing about Marclinus’s greatness.

We proceed out from under the baking rays of the summer sun into the slightly cooler halls of the palace. Savory smells of the upcoming luncheon feast trickle from the kitchen, but it appears Marclinus isn’t ready to dine just yet. He leads the lot of us into this palace’s hall of entertainments.

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