Page 59 of A Dance of Shadows

The cleric positions herself beneath me on the stairs to serve as a go-between. She lifts her even voice to the crowd and switches to Cotean. “Her Imperial Highness Empress Aurelia is offering her healing gift to help those our temple’s efforts haven’t been able to reach yet. We’ll bring forward those we know could benefit from her help, but if you have a discomfort we may not be aware of, please mention it to one of our devouts.”

My grasp of the native tongue is firmer than it was in Rione. What little voluntary trade my home kingdom engages in, it’s with our more accessible neighbors: Cotea and Goric. Still, my pulse hiccups as I prepare to speak. I don’t have that much practice with the language.

I click open my purse full of cures and lift my hand in greeting to the crowd. “I can treat many sorts of infections, rashes, and small wounds with the potions I’ve brewed for you. It will be my honor to leave as many of you as possible happier today.”

To my relief, the temple staff have set a calm tone that keeps our audience subdued. My Cotean words must have gotten my message across well enough. The city folk watch with a curious murmuring that may include a little skepticism but nothing remotely aggressive.

With the first man the devouts bring before me, my gift indicates he’s suffering from a disturbance of his gut. I fish out the appropriate tonic and a small cup to offer him a dose right there. Then I hand the rest of the vial to him. “Drink half of what’s left tomorrow and the rest the day after. That should set you back to rights.”

He gapes at me for a few seconds before ducking into an awkward bow. “Thank you, Your Imperial Highness."

As I show a middle-aged woman how to apply an ointment to raw patches on her arm and spoon out a cloying syrup for a little boy flushed with fever, the murmurs in the crowd turnmore excited. I notice a few people approaching the devouts still circulating through the crowd, gesturing to some part of their body that’s troubling them.

A glow as warm as the sunlight gleaming off the temple walls spreads through my chest.

This is how I’m meant to be. This is what I’m meant to be doing—setting wrongs right, curing people of their ills however I can.

It isn’t long before there are only a few vials and packets left in my purse. As I rummage through the remainders for the right salve to offer a young man with a burn that’s showing signs of infection, a softly resonant voice seeps into my head.“Aurelia, don’t react. It’s just me.”

Lorenzo. His illusionary voice makes my heart skip a beat, but my hand only twitches before my fingers close around the container I was looking for. I guide my patient in a reassuring tone, preparing for my lover to speak again.

He waits until there’s a brief lull between applicants while the devouts determine who most needs one of my few remaining curatives.

“We took our own trip into the city—the three of us. Bastien knew a good spot where we could see you work your magic. He says he’s sorry for worrying. You’re obviously doing a lot of good. You look more like the kind of ruler any of Cotea’s people would want than Marclinus ever has.”

A pang of affection brings a smile to my lips. I restrain myself from searching the windows and rooftops along the street for the spot where they might be poised.

“Raul says you look like a godlen,”Lorenzo goes on.“I can’t say he’s wrong. We’ll wait until you’ve had a chance to properly visit the temple, and then Bastien has a few things in mind he’d like to share with you on your way back to the palace, if you don’t mind taking a roundabout route.”

It isn’t the same as touring the city side-by-side with my princes, but I’ll take their partial presence over none at all. I tip my head in a slight nod, curving my fingers by my hip at the same time in a gesture of agreement. Wherever they are, I hope they can see one or the other.

I tend to a woman who’s had a long-aching throat and a little girl whose vision in one eye has blurred. With all my supply gone, I lift my hands to the crowd in benediction. “I wish I could have brought even more. I hope that as the empire gets stronger, we’ll be able to do even more for every citizen under our rule.”

I’m afraid I’ll get shouts of derision for failing to offer more right now, but the applause and calls of blessings for the empress sound nothing but genuine. With my heart swelling, I turn to step into the temple.

No matter what either version of my husband does to me or asks of me, I can have my own bond with the people we rule over. I can earn their favor without needing that of their royals.

But it’d make my mission much easier to have their royal family’s approval too.

After facing the anxious crowd outside, the soft lighting of the temple’s interior washes over me with a welcome sense of serenity. The cleric and her devouts give me space as I walk up to the immense statue of Elox standing at the far end of the worship room.

His kindly face and welcoming pose are shaped out of polished wood rather than marble or precious metals—a humble material for the unassuming godlen. I kneel on one of the white cushions set before him and tap my fingers down my front in the gesture of the divinities.

The act reminds me of all the prayers I’ve sent to Elox before—and the answers he’s given me. Lambs and birds and fences being mended… The pang of guilt I tried to deny earlier comes back to me.

What would my godlen say about Marc’s new kindnesses? It’s because of my husband that I was able to come here at all.

Does Elox really think it’s possible that the saner twin will eventually agree to the changes we’d want to make? That all I need to do is chase and embrace him, and all will be well?

After all the history behind us, I can’t quite believe it myself. And that’s not what I wanted to pray about today regardless.

I close my eyes and extend my awareness toward the statue and the divine presence it represents.

Elox, I’m serving your purpose here in Cotea as well as I can. What could I offer King Stanislas that would prove I understand what matters to him?

Closing my eyes, I slow my breaths and let my mind drift into a meditation. The sunlight filtering through the high windows plays off my eyelids. A gentle lavender scent drifts through the air, soothing my nerves even more.

The light shifts again and seems to form into a face. A face that glows from its forehead and eyes, as if it’s lit up from the inside—as if its very mind is beaming.

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