Page 63 of A Dance of Shadows

Except Linus is paranoid enough to think she could have been, especially when I’ve put the idea into words. And seeing me simpering only annoys him more.

“Look at you, so good you forget to demand the respect you deserve.” He spins on the noblewoman again.

A tremor runs through Eugenie’s frame. “I do apologize—I honestly didn’t mean—a slip of the hand?—"

Linus cuts her off with a swipe through the air that’s just shy of a slap. “I don’t have any use for a babbler. And neither should your king.” He pitches his voice to carry across the room to where King Stanislas is now standing. “Your Highness, please remove this pathetic excuse for a noblewoman from my sight—preferably from the entire city until my wife and I can be free of her clumsiness.”

The Cotean king answers with a sharp nod. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry Lady Eugenie has disturbed the two of you, Your Imperial Eminences.”

He pins the noblewoman with his imposing gaze and motions her out of the room—presumably to pack up and head back to her estate for the time being.

As Lady Eugenie scurries out of the room in disgrace, I sidle closer to my husband and offer him a winning smile. “You do cut such a striking figure when you’re so decisive.”

If Linus were a bird, he’d be preening his feathers. He smirks down at me before his gaze slides to Bianca where he left her. “I do, don’t I? We must take charge of every situation to bend it in our favor. And I’ve decided I’ve had quite enough of most of this company for the evening. Vicerine, I have need of you away from these louts.”

He tucks his hand around my elbow. When Bianca saunters over, he does the same with her and leads us both toward the door.

My stomach starts to sink. I didn’t mean for my strategic compliment to prompt quite so much audacity—at least not of this nature.

Bianca prances along with a giggle as Linus leans in to nip her ear, but when he shifts his attention to me, she looks over as well with a furrow in her brow.

She’s admitted to me that she doesn’t get any physical enjoyment out of her encounters with him—and that she’d rather focus on building a friendship with me than continuing to cultivate the prestige of being the emperor’s mistress. I don’t think she imaginesI’dwant to share him so directly. But she’s in even less of a position to protest than I am.

I can’t risk revealing the secret of how I’d normally evade his carnal interest, no matter how loyal she’s proven to be so far. It was only months ago that she wanted me dead.

I’d be handing the easiest means to accomplish that goal right to her. What if she changes her mind about which of her rulers serves her ends best?

I knew I might have to endure my husband’s full attentions at some point. The men I actually love assured me they wouldn’tsee it as a betrayal. But to have it happen like this, performing in front of a woman I’ve started to consider a friend…

My stomach churns. As my queasiness at the situation grows, it sets off a spark of inspiration.

The initial nausea of my pregnancy has faded… but Linus doesn’t know that. I have a perfect excuse for any involuntary bodily reactions that might disrupt the interlude he’s planning.

As long as I can convince my body to comply.

With each step through the halls, I put on a mask of eager obedience and focus on the lurching of my gut. I dredge up the memories of the frog pitchers’ fetid stink, the viscous squish of the bog’s mud, the bloody mangled limbs of the Rionians who handled the tolk coral, the trial when Linus forced us to eat until our stomachs rebelled.

The churning intensifies. A clammy sweat breaks out on my forehead, but Linus gives no sign of noticing my discomfort. He simply gropes at my ass with another leering guffaw.

We cross the small courtyard between the two palaces and climb the stairs to the imperial wing. I place my steps with just enough force for the impact to resonate through my uneasy belly. A sour tang collects at the back of my mouth.

There are plenty of ingredients that can be used to empty the contents of a patient’s stomach if they’ve ingested a substance best expelled as quickly as possible. I won’t have the chance to concoct any potions, but I bring to mind the noxious scents and flavors with all the vividness my imagination can provide.

My stomach lurches harder with my next steps. I think I can prompt that final heave.

Linus pushes open the door to my chambers and motions us onward. Before we’ve even reached the bed, he’s already tugging off his shirt. “Let’s see how my two favorite ladies can please me together. We should have done this much sooner!”

He nudges Bianca down on the bedspread and mashes his mouth against hers. His hand jerks at his belt.

I call up the memory of bitter odor of the potion I was brewing when I first realized I was pregnant… and the image of having to wrap my mouth around his engorged member.

Linus turns to me with a sneering grin, his cock swaying at half-mast, and that visual is enough.

I double over. The spew of my vomit splatters across his trousers and boots.

Linus yelps and scrambles backward, too late. Chunks of my half-digested dinner cling to his clothes and drip onto the floor.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he mutters, staring down at himself with his lips twisted in disgust.

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