Page 37 of A Dance of Shadows

The boat pushes farther from the dock with a surge of magical propulsion. The deck sways beneath my feet, but I’m grateful for the warble of the wind in the sails and the hiss of the hull cutting through the waves to disguise our voices.

Bastien leans back against the railing, folding his arms over his chest to continue the impression that he isn’t all that interested in the conversation. His eyes scan the deck for any guards or nobles who might wander close.

He drops his voice lower so only I can hear it. “I hope we won’t see any scenes like that sudden slaughter in Cotea, but I don’t think we can count on it.”

I grimace. “I don’t even understand. The civilians didn’t engage with the soldier at all. They were only arguing with each other.”

Bastien lifts his eyebrow slightly. “I know you’re not unfamiliar with how Darium soldiers carry out justice.”

I’m not. I’ve seen Darium soldiers cut down Accasian citizens in the street—and heard of so many more incidents. My first love, the palace guard I fell for years ago, was murdered that way.

But…

“There was nothing for her to take offense from or see as a threat. The man she killed didn’t say anything to her, didn’t touch her.”

They usually have some kind of excuse, even if it’s as absurd a reason as supposed disrespect.

Bastien shrugs. “She was caught up in a crowd of people she’s been trained to see as the enemy. I’d imagine that feels like a threat all on its own. I certainly don’t feelsafesurrounded by Darium citizens.”

He has a point there. I hug myself, wishing it could be his arms around me.

Is that what the vision was trying to tell me? That Darium soldiers need to be working together so they don’t get overwhelmed and lash out with unnecessary violence?

Queen Anahi balked when I suggested that Dariu might reclaim some of the soldiers posted here. Perhaps she really did think that’s a bad idea.

A reduced force might feel more pressure to maintain control. If I dismissed some of the Darium soldiers stationed abroad, would those who remained act out against the locals even more than we just saw?

My head is spinning. I close my eyes for a second, trying to will my thoughts into order.

I want to give more control back to the kingdoms, to put their fates in the hands of their own royals as much as possible. I can hardly recalleveryDarium soldier while maintaining the basic structure of the empire—and even if I wanted to try that, what supporters I have in Dariu would think I’d gone mad.

The loosening of our shackles on the conquered countries needs to be slow and subtle. How in the realms am I going to accomplish that if even starting the process might result in more violence?

Chapter Fourteen

Raul

Alooming guard tower marks the border between Dariu and Cotea. There isn’t a single road between the countries that the blasted imperial army doesn’t watch over.

Marclinus insists on calling the convoy to a halt so he can greet the border soldiers—supposedly to express his gratitude for their service, but really I suspect so he can enjoy them fawning over their emperor.

At least it gives the rest of us a chance to stretch our legs. We’ve been on the road for more than a week since we left Rione.

Aurelia has slipped out of her carriage behind Marclinus. She hangs back but smiles in acknowledgment to the soldiers who shout her praise. I notice Marclinus’s grin tightens every time that happens.

The prick doesn’t like sharing the attention one bit.

Which is why Aurelia is wise and doesn’t push for more. She stands by the carriage, stretching her arms. Her hand flits over her belly.

The movement sends a pang of protective longing through my chest. Marclinus might claim the kid she’ll birth as his heir, but he or she will be part ofourfamily, not his.

I haven’t been able to talk freely with her for more than a few hasty murmurs in days. The distance gnaws at me.

If I could march over there, cut off her asshole husband’s head, and declare her ruler of the empire right now…

Sure, and die before I even grazed the wretch’s jacket while a dozen guards runmethrough. That’d help her cause so incredibly fucking much.

Instead, I clench my hands at my sides imagining I’m gripping my sword and amble back and forth beside my own carriage. As soon as I get back in, I’ll have to endure more pawing—and pretending to enjoy the pawing—of Vicerine Prisca, who specifically requested to ride in the same carriage as me.

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