Page 61 of A Dance of Shadows

I offer him and his companion a grateful smile. “I have a brief matter to discuss with the royal family. Would you wait by the door?”

It wouldn’t be an unusual request from the emperor—I’ve seen Marclinus leave his guards outside of meeting rooms and offices more times than I can count. From the empress… So far I haven’t been engaging in official meetings without my husband present.

Kassun doesn’t show a hint of concern. He lifts his chin and locks his impenetrable stance in place. “Of course, Your Imperial Highness.”

The other guard tenses for a second, but she stops next to him, following his lead.

Good. Nothing I’m going to say here should sound remotely treasonous, but I’d rather not have the details of this conversation passed on. Marc would wonder why I bothered with the overture, and Linus would undoubtedly be annoyed that I earned a little good will without him.

If I can earn that good will in the first place.

I walk across the room, leaving the guards behind, and give the Cotean royals the warmest smile that still feels appropriately refined. “Thank you for agreeing to speak to me for a moment apart from the furor of the court.”

The king’s gaze flicks between his younger son and me. “What is this about, Your Imperial Highness? Bastien didn’t give us any specifics about your request.”

There’s doubt in his expression, but he’s kept his voice as subdued as I have so it won’t travel to the doorway. He was curious enough to agree to meet me, and he’s willing to match my sense of caution.

It seems we’re off to a decent start.

“It’s mostly about what I can offer you rather than what I’d ask,” I say, dipping my hand into the pouch at my hip. “I’ve meditated on your comments about expanding the use of my gift, and I wanted to show my appreciation for your insight. This may not be exactly what you had in mind, but I hope you’ll find it a valuable contribution to your goals.”

I retrieve a glass bottle nearly as large as my palm, filled with a pale blue liquid. “I believe this potion will stimulate creativity and innovation by opening the mind to making unexpected connections and reducing self-doubt. A small spoonful should be the perfect dose. I’m not sure exactly how long the effect will last. Whether you want to use it yourselves or pass it on to key advisors is completely up to you.”

Prince Rolland’s eyes widen. He watches as I hand the bottle over to his father. “That’ll be quite the boon if it works.”

“If it works,” King Stanislas agrees, but his tone has thawed a little. He studies the concoction and then me with his penetrating dark green gaze. “This isn’t something you’ve brewed before. I assume you took some time perfecting the formula.”

“I’ve honed what my gift could tell me over the past week to craft it as well as possible. I hope it’ll be of use to you.”

The king studies the bottle for a few seconds longer and then slips it into a pocket. His attention returns to me. “We weren’t expecting any presents.”

He doesn’t say it like a question, but I hear the implicit one all the same. “I wanted to give you a concrete demonstration of my intentions. You deserve better than to simply be saved from snake venom. If I can enhance some part of your rule, I’m happy to. I’d like to deepen the empire’s relationships with all our kingdoms—and I’d like to form connections with each country’s rulers, not those who might work around you for their own ends.”

I can’t tell how convinced King Stanislas is, but his reserved smile feels more genuine than any he’s offered me before. “We can appreciate the thoughtfulness of this gesture and the sentiment behind it.”

Prince Rolland nudges his brother with his elbow. The jostling would come across as playful if there wasn’t a chiding edge to his next remarks. “Good on you for ensuring she could present her offering to us, Bastien. I know you’d probably prefer we tamed our imaginations rather than expanding them.”

King Stanislas’s expression turns solemn as he considers his younger son. “It’s reassuring to see you veering however slightly from the straight and narrow. You haven’t had much practice at it. Make sure you’re still guided by your mind and not any baser impulses. There’s nothing admirable in recklessness.”

His brother’s barbed teasing and his father’s admonishment tighten Bastien’s face. His voice comes out stiffer than usual. “I’m unlikely to forget that fact.”

The king lets out a faint huff. “No, I suppose this is the only glimpse of daring we’ll see from you for another decade yet.”

His dissatisfied tone rankles me all the more because of how absurdly wrong that statement is. Yes, the son whose supposed cowardice he’s criticizing has been the most careful and strict of the fostered princes in the time I’ve known him—but he’s also taken bold and brilliant risks. For fuck’s sake, Bastien is the father to the next ruler of the entire empire.

They nag him without thinking how very reckless it would be for him to reveal how he may have worked against the empire already.

Hinting at those secrets myself would be suicide, but I can’t help speaking up in my lover’s defense. “It’s strange to me that a family who values open-mindedness is so rigid in how they view one of their own. You’ve barely seen Bastien in the past fifteenyears. Shouldn’t you want to find out who he is now rather than treating him as if he couldn’t possibly have changed?”

Bastien’s gaze jerks to me with a start—and a worried twitch of his lips. The rest of his family is staring at me too.

I brace myself to have to smooth over my words, however much I meant them, if that’s necessary to salvage the gains I’ve made.

King Stanislas’s attention shifts to his younger son. His jaw works. When he meets my eyes again, his mouth tenses with a trace of a grimace.

“It’s difficult to hear the truth in your words, Your Imperial Highness,” he says. “But I’d shame myself if I denied it.Youhave spent more time in my son’s presence in the past year than I have since he was seven. I should not let myself get so narrow in my thinking on any subject.”

He halts, a more thoughtful cast coming over his face. I catch the tight—but possibly apologetic—smile Rolland shoots his brother in the meantime.

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