Page 43 of A Dance of Shadows

That must be one of the ways they’ve blended innovations from around the continent with their own distinctive style.

Delphine’s buildings are lower than those that crowd the streets in Vivencia and Santia, more like the humbler one or two-story structures that fill most of my own capital city. But rather than Costel’s thick stone walls, these are covered in a clay-like material, painted in light pastels that suit the peaceful atmosphere.

How awful to think that this serene country has become the greatest battleground in the continent. And it’s clear from Marc’s comments yesterday that he has no intention on giving up the endless war.

He may escalate it to even greater bloodshed if I can’t intervene first.

Despite the violence the empire has brought to the kingdom, the common folk pour along the streets to welcome our convoy as it skirts the edge of the city on our way to the imperial palace. The cheers and eager shouts sound no less genuine than those we encountered in Santia.

Do some Coteans enjoy the spectacle of the emperor’s arrival despite the horrors so often brought to their shores? Or has the need to pretend been beaten into them so thoroughly it looks like real enthusiasm?

Linus shifts restlessly on his seat across from me. He grins and waves at the civilians along the road, but often his gaze flicks to the west with the manic glint I don’t like at all. He’s been muttering about the traitors of the west and Silana’s cozying up to riven sorcerers ever since we crossed the border into Cotea.

The Seafell Channel is days away. I don’t think he’ll actually attempt to visit it. It’s not as if he could do much there even if he did.

But I don’t like the mood our new setting has put him in.

I have more immediate concerns to focus on, though. In an hour or two, the Cotean royal family will be prostrating themselves before us—and then my husband will no doubt announce some sadistic but supposedly divine demand to match the one he made in Rione.

If I could get some sense of what that demand might be soon enough to give them a warning… Perhaps he’ll be looser lipped about his plans now that they’re so close to coming to fruition.

And I can continue my campaign to sow friction between the twins at the same time.

I smile across the carriage at my husband. “I’m excited to see what you have in store for Delphine. You haven’t had much chance to show off your authority while we’re on the road.”

Linus smirks. “I take my opportunities where I can get them. And it’s much more satisfying directing the idiots from the outer territories.”

I hide my inward wince. “Indeed. I can’t imagine what you’ve come up with, but it’s always thrilling to watch you command the empire.”

As I intended, Linus puffs up his chest a little. Let him take the boost in ego into his next argument with Marc.

His smirk has grown. “Oh, I’ll command them, all right. But it’s my wisdom I’ll have them honor with their own boldness. I thought we might gaze upon some pretty flowers.”

He’s being more specific than when I’ve attempted to prod him in the past, but I still have no idea what he’s talking about. If he’s linking his challenges to godlen myths, wisdom would imply Estera. But flowers are more Ardone’s and Inganne’s areas, beauty and art.

Or he could be referring to something in the palace gardens that would never have occurred to me.

“Flowers?” I inquire innocently.

Linus taps my ankle with the side of his boot, a gesture I’d find playful if it wasn’t just hard enough to sting. “You’ll get to enjoy the spectacle soon enough. And don’t think I’ve forgotten that you need your own role to play.”

The reminder of his warning back in Rione sends a tremor through my pulse, but I keep my head high. “You know I’m always happy to serve you.”

The least I can do is get what little information I gleaned to Bastien. This is his home—hopefully he can make sense of it.

As in Santia, the Delphine royal palace is flanked by a smaller imperial residence for the traveling court. As we disembark from our carriages, I can’t help noting the differences between the building in front of me and the one on the other side of the hedge wall that separates their grounds.

The imperial residence looks like a smaller version of the palace in Vivencia, all pale marble and fluted columns, entirely stone and window glass. Across the way, the creamy, stuccoed Cotean palace holds a few unfamiliar fixtures just within my view. Shining arcs of metal jut from a few of the window frames. More steel gleams along the edge of the tiled roof. Here and there, wooden squares carved into grates sit within the walls.

Linus notes my gaze and lets out a scoffing sound. “The Cotean royals always smack whatever new invention they hear about onto their own home first. In Dariu, we prefer to make sure a thing is worthwhile before we change what’s already working.”

One of the palace staff approaches with some questions about settling the court in. As Linus dives into a list of extravagant requests, my gaze skims across the milling nobles.

There’s Bastien, just emerging from a carriage a few down from mine. I lift my hand as if checking my pinned hair. When he glances my way, I curl my fingers in a surreptitious gesture.Come here.

He ambles my way as if stretching his legs after the long ride. I swivel back toward my carriage, peering into my handbag with the pretense that I’m confirming I have all my possessions.

When Bastien is close enough that I can speak without anyone else hearing me, I offer a hasty murmur. “Today’s test is about wisdom and pretty flowers.”

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