Page 166 of A Dance of Shadows

I have to restrain a snort at the idea of my would-be murderer worrying about my well-being, but I understand the cleric’s sentiment. And he isn’t wrong that I’m on my last legs.

I swipe at my eyes as if brushing away tears. “It’s hard to think that far ahead. I still can’t believe what happened.”

As my guards step in to ease me back toward the temple’s doorway, a tall, grizzled figure strides through it. High Commander Axius halts at the sight of me and dips into the lowest bow he’s ever offered.

His gaze slides past me to the plinth. “This is a sorrow-filled day for us all. Thank the gods it didn’t claim both of you and Marclinus’s daughter.”

My embrace around Coraya tightens slightly. “Indeed. Is there something you need to report, High Commander?”

His face twitches at my words, and I remember belatedly that Marc stripped him of his position days ago.

He bows again, his expression turning even more somber. “I can no longer accept the honor of that title. I do hope that you might let me stay on with the palace’s dedicated military force for however I might help with the transition. But in the meantime, Tribune Valerisse has arrived and wishes to speak to you with some urgency.”

A large part of me wants to say that the tribune can wait until I’ve slept, but the mention of urgency sets my pulse thrumming again. What other disasters have befallen the empire in the past day?

I suppress a yawn. “I’ll see her. Have her meet me in whatever private room is closest to the temple.”

One of my guards eyes the princes who’ve followed us in our travels through the palace. “I think you’d best return to your own concerns, Your Highnesses. This is a matter of imperial business.”

Raul’s stance tenses, but I catch his eye with a subtle nod. We’ll have plenty of time to sort out the rest of our way forward after today.

Marc speaks up in an unusually subdued tone. “I would like to see the medics about these odd… burns. If you would give me leave, Your Imperial Highness.”

I don’t know how to respond to his deference, especially when I can only imagine he’d like the scars removed to confirm his real identity. But it would hardly be charitable of the empress to deny her supposed savior the chance at proper healing.

I nod to him. “Of course. May you be well. And… thank you. If I forgot to say that before.”

His newly dark eyes hold mine for just a beat longer than is comfortable. “I’m sure you did, one way or another.”

Bastien stiffens, but Lorenzo aims a swift string of gestures at me.We’ll watch him.Neven draws himself up sharply witha fierce flash of his eyes that would make me more nervous if I wasn’t equally uncertain of Marc’s intentions.

They won’t let him get away with anything, but I don’t think they’ll let each other go too far either. I can let go of one concern for the moment.

We locate a small sitting room down the hall from the temple entrance. Axius marches off to summon Valerisse, and I sink into one of the armchairs while my temporary new host of four guards shadows the doorway.

I doubt my usual protectors are going to want to let me out of their sight for years now. Hopefully they’ll still respect the privacy of my bedroom.

Coraya squirms with a whimper that’s already familiar. I hesitate for only a second before loosening my bodice enough to offer her my breast.

My husband-to-be had me bare my whole body before the court and palace staff for his satisfaction. Why should I be ashamed to reveal so much less to feed my child?

Footsteps rap outside the door while I’m still nursing. Coraya shows no inclination to finish her meal just yet.

“Let the tribune in,” I tell the guards. Valerisse can’t be terribly offended by my breast when she has two of her own, can she?

And if it’s not full imperial propriety, the empire is just going to have to get used to a new way of doing things.

Valerisse enters the room with her usual forceful strides, her keen eyes settling on me. Her mouth pulls into a subtle grimace.

Fine, let her be offended.

All four guards move to flank my chair. Valerisse considers them and then plants herself about five feet away from me, staying standing while I sit. Her chestnut-brown hair is pulled back in the three-braided style she favors, adding to the severity of her coppery face and its sour expression.

“Your Imperial Highness,” she says in a clipped tone. “I understand I’ve arrived on the heels of an immense tragedy.”

I bite back a remark that the immensity of the tragedy depends on how you look at it. “Immense and unexpected. I’m afraid I’m rather shaken, but I didn’t want to delay hearing your news, which I gathered is urgent. The empire’s needs continue even in our grief.”

A hint of a smile curves the tribune’s lips in the opposite direction. “How convenient—the needs of the empire are exactly what I wanted to speak to you about.”

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