Page 11 of A Dance of Shadows

It’s only a few minutes after I drift away from her that Marclinus swoops in on me with a maniacal glint in his eyes.

He slings his arm around my shoulders as if we’re actually close and not foster brothers barely even in name. “I see you’re already helping prepare my wife for the political wrangling ahead of her. Very good, very good.”

I give him the same impassive expression I aimed at her. “You made your needs known. I’m happy to oblige.”

And he’s never going to have the faintest idea how true that statement actually is in this one case.

Marclinus takes another swig from his goblet, which must have been refilled at least a couple times this afternoon. From the slight slur to his words, I get the impression he’s already drunk. “Always appreciated, brother. Perhaps you can enlighten me on another subject. While you were talking to her, did her attention stray to anyone else in the room? Or did any of our companions pay particular attention to her?”

A prickle runs down my spine. He’s asking me to play snitch when it comes to Aurelia’s personal affairs.

I’d find the fact amusing if it didn’t mean he’s still got the idea in his head that she’s betraying him somehow.

“She seemed completely attentive to my insights about Lavira,” I say honestly. “As for the rest of the court…”

This is the perfect opportunity to put Aurelia’s suggested strategy to use. Because I do have a confirmed target I’m happy to aim his paranoia at—with whatever consequences might come with it.

The nobles will need to learn not to spew their venom at the woman I love.

Knitting my brow, I frown as if the memory bothers me. “I did notice Marchion Syrus eyeing her a little oddly. I’m not sure what his intentions were. She didn’t give him any notice.”

The unnerving glint in Marclinus’s pale eyes flares brighter. “Ah. That is definitely useful to know. Thank you, my friend.”

He claps me on the shoulder and moves as if to step away. But just before he does, he drops his voice into a slyer murmur. “I hope you’re looking forward to our coronation tour. I have grand plans.”

He swans off with a jovial shout to a nearby baron, leaving me suppressing a wince. I can’t help thinking that any grand plans our blasted emperor comes up with will likely be miserable for everyone else—and Aurelia most of all.

Chapter Five

Aurelia

“What are you doing poking around in the flowers, wife? Have you decided to become a gardener as well?”

The sound of Marclinus’s exuberant voice brings my head snapping up from where I’m crouched next to one of the flowerbeds. I slip the blossom I’ve just plucked into the pouch at my hip and push upright as he saunters through the falling dusk to meet me.

Thankfully I have an explanation close at hand. “There are a few teas and tinctures that ease the symptoms of pregnancy. I thought it’d be wise to ensure I have all the ingredients I might need while we’re traveling.”

We’re meant to set off for Rione tomorrow, and in truth, there are a great many potions I’d like to be prepared to make, most of which my husband wouldn’t approve of at all.

I guessed from his tone and demeanor that I’m facing the man who’s supposedly Linus at the moment. The slight narrowing of his eyes at the mention of my condition confirms it.

When he’s Marc, he’s only ever been pleased to think about the child I’m carrying.

“Well, finish up, then,” he demands, folding his arms over his chest. “This is our last ball with the full court before we’re reduced to a few scraps and whatever the outer territories can provide for company for months on end. We shouldn’t deny our most devoted supporters our presence.”

I doubt the nobles care all that much about seeing me dance, but I’d rather keep my husband in a good temper—especially when he’s in his more frenetic state.

I bob my head obligingly and motion to a shrub farther down the path. “I just need to pick a handful of leaves from that bush and then I’ll have everything I hoped to gather.”

I pluck the leaves as swiftly as I can, aware of Marclinus’s gaze on me and the impatient tapping of his foot. As much as I’d prefer to drop off my collected materials in my room before joining the revelry, it’s clear I’d better not try his patience.

That impression only grows as I let him escort me to the ballroom. Before we’ve even reached the enormous space with its glinting chandeliers and enchanted paintings that frolic with magic, he’s slid his hand from my waist to paw at my thigh.

We step into the midst of the court at the start of a new song. Marclinus pulls me to him and spins us around, his grin so fierce it’s just shy of a grimace.

He whirls and whoops as if to draw as much attention as possible—and in the closer moments gropes my ass while pressing himself up against me. My smile stays frozen in place, revulsion curdling in my gut.

All this fanfare combined with his overtly lustful intentions feels like a claiming. What else does he have in store for me—and whoever he’s feeling he needs to claim mefrom—tonight?

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