Page 73 of A Dance of Shadows

Or maybe he’s simply concerned about our security in general after the spectacle his emperor has made of our past pledging ceremonies.

The square churns with more and more civilians pressing their way in to observe the emperor—and to partake of the royal refreshments. I scan the rooftops and the milling bodies. I haven’t noticed any sign of hostility so far. It could be all the rebellious inclinations were beaten out of these people after their emperor came down on the entire country so harshly.

Linus doesn’t want them to forget his recent triumph. When the soldiers motion for silence and the tumult of the crowd fades to murmurs, he steps to the front of the platform with his chin raised high and his voice nearly crackling with intensity.

“Good people of Lavira! I’m glad to come here before you today and find you all so welcoming. The empire has long steered you in our grand course, and woe betide any who attempt to sever you from our guidance!”

The translators around the square echo his words in Lavirian. I hold back a grimace at the thought of the brutal “guidance” the empire’s forces generally offer.

“Here’s to all the Lavirians who embrace their place in the great tapestry Dariu has woven!” Linus adds with a sweep of his arms toward the sky.

A deluge of cheers follows his display, though I can’t say how many are genuine. Linus looks happy enough with the outward signs of adoration. A smirk stretches across his lips as he steps back to make way for the cleric leading the pledges.

Queen Benvida approaches us first. Her pale hair is coiled demurely away from her faintly lined face, which is the same tawny shade as Raul’s. I can’t help noting that despite the splendor of the palace and our rooms within it, she’s dresseddown for the ceremony in a gown less elaborate and only a few modest pieces of jewelry. To avoid looking as if she’s competing with Linus and me in magnificence?

She speaks her promise of loyalty steadily and brightly, not a trace of discomfort creeping into her expression or her tone. But then, what is an expert negotiator but a performer of sorts?

Her husband follows suit, and then her elder son and daughter-in-law, daughter, granddaughter, and a handful of other royals. They all bow to both Linus and then the subtle but now unmistakable bulge of my belly beneath my flowing gown.

None of these vows of loyalty are truly to me—yet. We can change that, one mind at a time.

When the last cousin to swear his devotion steps away, Linus motions to the soldiers at the front of the platform. “Some of you, clear a good space up front here. At least ten paces out and to the sides. That’s right, move them back!”

As a dozen uniformed figures push into the crowd, driving the spectators backward to clear a swath of bare cobblestone, my stance tenses. Here it comes.

Several guards remain poised at the base of the platform. Linus draws his well-built frame as tall as he can and grins at our audience.

“I’m celebrating a particularly significant occasion while I’m here,” he declares. “Today is the anniversary of the day of my birth. I’m sure you’ll want to honor that event with a particularly special reception. And I have something special for you in return. All those who want the chance to join the glory of the empire as never before, send forth your children!”

I stare at my husband for a few thuds of my heart. Did I hear him right? He wants to see thechildrenof Rodrige?

Gods help us, what is he going to do with them?

Even as my flesh turns to ice, the translators repeat his words in Lavirian—and several small figures wriggle out of the crowdinto the clear stretch of cobblestones. The guards admit more and more of the youngsters Linus beckoned, some so slight they can’t be more than five or six and others tall enough to reach my nose.

A few are dressed in finer fabrics with elegant trim. Most wear dresses or tunics and trousers that, while vividly dyed, show a roughness of weaving and patches that are faded or stained. From the tight or baggy fits, I suspect many are wearing hand-me-downs rather than clothes bought specifically for them.

It makes sense that the civilians with fewer means would be more willing to risk their children for whatever “glory” their emperor intends to offer. The richer folk probably feel they have plenty to boast about already.

At Linus’s orders, the guards push the crowd even farther back. By the time more than fifty kids have entered the cleared area, my husband slices his hand through the air. “That’s enough. Those who showed enthusiasm first will have their chance at the reward! Keep them far from the stage until they’ve heard their mission.”

As the soldiers gather the pack of children at the opposite end of the otherwise empty ring, I tuck my hands into the folds of my skirts. My fingernails are digging into my palms against the urge to cry out in protest.

Whatever Linus has planned for these children, it can’t begood. Just how awfully is he going to punish Lavira for daring to threaten the empire?

What can I do to intervene that won’t end with my head on a pike as a traitor as well?

I risk a glance toward Raul among his family. All of the other royals have put on the most careful of mild expressions, but their younger prince isn’t capable of such a perfect mask. His jaw has clenched; his eyes smolder.

After my warning this morning, was he able to convince his parents and brother to summon at least a few medics who’ll be prepared to jump in? I don’t see any white robes amid the vibrantly colored outfits that fill the square, but they may be present with more discretion.

It wouldn’t do for Linus to realize that the royals have prepared for carnage.

Linus cracks his knuckles and grins at the watching crowd as if he expects them to be delighting in this moment as much as he is. “While on my journey here, I came across quite an enlightening tale about Prospira’s ventures through Lavira. Are you all familiar with the story of our godlen of abundance and the ‘fruitful’ children?”

With the translators’ hasty repetition, a swell of agreeing murmurs rises from the crowd. Many of the faces I can see look as puzzled as I feel.

Even though the fable takes place in Lavira, it was one of our main Prospiran cleric’s favorites to tell when he spoke to a younger audience—probably because it involved children. It’s said that when the gods traveled the realms, Prospira encountered a town that appeared to struggle to prepare a welcome. When she asked why they felt they were failing to thrive, the families complained that they’d been blessed with so many children, they had too many mouths to feed and bodies to clothe to amass any sort of abundance.

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