Page 67 of A Dance of Shadows

The tribune salutes her emperor and rides off, barking orders to her underlings. After a moment, the carriage jerks forward into the descending dusk.

I offer Linus an adoring smile. “It sounds as though you have quite a thrilling time planned for us tomorrow. Do I have any reason to worry for my own safety?”

Linus makes a flippant gesture. “Stay back and keep with your own guards, and you should be just fine. If anyone tries to take advantage of the furor, I’m the one they’d be after.”

That may be true, but he’s also proven before how little concern he has for my security. I touch the growing curve of mybelly as if I can protect the child inside me from his madness with my mere fingers.

“What fable are you drawing on for the Lavirians?” I ask as if I simply want to bask in his brilliance.

Linus simply chuckles. “It’ll be more fun to watch it unfold as it happens. I’ll do our gods proud. It’s a shame we arrived too late to begin the festivities today.”

No hint at which specific godlen he’s intending to emulate next, but from his remarks about “chaos” and “furor” and his request for additional protection, I’m guessing we can expect some violence. It isn’t as if he’s shied from causing harm to the inhabitants of the past capitals we’ve visited.

Apprehension gnaws at my gut as we roll on into the city.

Neither the additional soldiers nor the thickening darkness appears to dampen the locals’ curiosity. Along the sides of the roads, figures in brightly colored clothing watch us with wide eyes and chatter mostly in their native tongue. Beyond them, lanterns glow along shop awnings and the entrances to vast, swooping tents that cover a couple of larger marketplaces.

Lavirians are known for their skills in negotiation and trade. Merchants from all across the empire must venture to this central city in the hopes of making a name for themselves on an international scale.

Rich smells both savory and sweet wind into my nose from stalls still operating alongside the larger shops, but I’m too wound up for hunger to take hold. Not even the gates that let us into the palace grounds right in the middle of the city, their gold gilding sparkling in the lantern-light, can provoke much awe through my uneasiness.

The Lavirian royals certainly know how to present a lavish appearance. The two palaces we approach—the larger one for the local royals and the smaller building for the emperor’s traveling court—gleam with as many embedded jewels asdecorate the necks and wrists of the nobles who emerge to greet us. Within moments of our stepping out of the carriages, Raul’s mother, Queen Benvida, has motioned for a horde of smartly dressed servants to circulate among us with goblets of wine.

I take the glass an imperial taster sips for me, the heady fragrance turning my stomach.

“We have dinner already waiting for you, Your Imperial Majesty,” the queen says with a dip of her head toward Marclinus. “I hope you will find all you need to freshen from your travels in the prepared apartments and join us as soon as you wish.”

More servants sweep us off into the palace, ushering Linus and I to the imperial wing. My door, just down the hall from his, opens to a lush expanse of silk and velvet, marble and gold, so intensely opulent I almost shudder at the sight.

Linus laughs to himself. “They always treat us well. No doubt they’ll be licking our boots even more than usual, begging for forgiveness after all the recent trouble. Just wait until we get to the meals! Lavirians know how to butter a person up with plenty of actual butter.”

Still chortling at his own joke, he strides on to his chambers.

I hurry through a washing and change of clothes and join our traveling court walking across to the dining room in the main royal palace. The banquet laid out in the vast, lavishly decorated space smells even more mouth-watering than the scents I caught on our journey through the city, but I barely taste the elaborate combinations of flavors that pass over my tongue. My mind is too occupied with thoughts of the future spectacle my husband has planned.

If there’s going to be violence, injuries will almost certainly follow. I’ll need to make sure I’m more prepared this time.

It doesn’t occur to me that anything all that momentous could happen before the pledging ceremony. But Linus never shies from a chance to upend any semblance of security.

He’s just polished off his dessert when he grasps my hand and tugs me to my feet before the watching Lavirian nobles.

“You will all have the honor of celebrating not just the pledging of loyalty but my birthday tomorrow,” he announces. “And that has presented me with a miraculous opportunity.”

We’re on the cusp of his birthday? My gaze flicks to the Darium nobles around me, but all of them look as if they’ve swallowed their tongues.

It’s hard to keep track of the days when you’re on the road for so long. I don’t think any of them realized.

Linus’s gaze slides to me. “While I was learning more about this intriguing country, I also stumbled on a tale about Sabrelle and Elox. It seems there was a relic Sabrelle blessed, a steel armband that gives the wearer the courage to see through any battle, and it ended up passing between multiple hands in one of Rodrige’s markets. Elox feared it might land with an owner who’d do more harm than good. After a lot of arguing, our godlen of war conceded to letting the godlen of peace hide it where only the most worthy dedicat could seek it out.”

I’ve never heard this particular fable before, but my heart is sinking before Linus even squeezes my hand. “I have full confidence that my lovely empress is such a worthy figure. She will track down Sabrelle’s blessed armband and present it to me before the dinner feast tomorrow as my birthday gift and a sign that all the empire basks in divine favor!”

He says it as if I’ve already agreed to this task—as if it’s a challenge and an honor we dreamed up together. I had no idea he’d lob such a weighty quest at me before I’ve even really experienced the city.

What in the realms does he want this relic for—if it truly exists? It’s Marc who’s ridden into battle with the Darium army in the past.

Does Linus suspect that his twin might be harboring violent intentions and hope Sabrelle’s blessing will give him the necessary edge to survive? I hardly want to help him withthatgoal.

But I can only imagine the consequences of humiliating him by denying his request. I suppose if I can track down this relic, it’ll be further proof to the Lavirian people thatIhave the approval of our gods, whatever they might think of my husband.

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