Page 77 of A Dance of Shadows

After a few moments, a hush falls over the room. My husband must have motioned for silence, because his voice rings out clearly into the space.

“If I had to be far from home when celebrating the day of my birth, I can’t imagine a better reception. Look at all this finery our hosts have prepared! I want to see you all digging in without a care in the world. But first, my wife has her very special gift to present, so I shouldn’t keep her waiting.”

At that cue, I nudge open the door and stride toward the head table with the cushion held out in front of me. The armband glints under the vast chandeliers overhead. A flood of rich smells washes over me, delectable but clogging my nose.

Linus is standing by the tallest chair in the middle of the table. The empty one next to it is presumably for me. I walk straight to him and dip into a small curtsy as I present him with the supposed relic for all to see.

A grin stretches Linus’s lips. He plucks up the armband and examines its etchings. They don’t appear to provoke any suspicion.

He shrugs off his jacket, shoves the sleeve of his dress shirt nearly to his shoulder, and slides the band up until it hugs the substantial bulge of his bicep.

I give an ingratiating smile, as if nothing could make me happier than watching him enjoy the gift. How long will it take the gel to sink through his skin and enter his nervous system? How quickly will heexpectto feel some effect?

Linus gazes down at the armband for a few beats before tugging his sleeve down to cover it. As he drops into his chair, a slyer grin curves his mouth. He looks satisfied for now.

Perhaps my interrupted efforts were enough.

As I settle into my own seat, my gaze sweeps over the room around us—and jars to a halt on a narrow table set off to the side of the opulent room. Ten children, their faces recently scrubbed and bodies decked out in fancy clothing that many of them are itching at as if they can’t quite get comfortable, sit there with a clear view of their emperor.

Linus is taking his “guidance” over the city’s children to another level. Is he simply hoping to impress them with his grandeur so they’ll be even more in awe of him—and more willing to do his bidding?

I suspect Queen Benvida is none too pleased with that possibility. Her carefully cajoling voice reaches my ears from where she’s sitting at Linus’s other side.

“We can certainly take your protégés under our wing here at the palace once you continue your travels. We’ll ensure they receive?—”

Linus is already dismissing her offer with a flick of his hand. “My representatives will see to their continued cultivation. They should be guided in a way that serves both them and the empire best.”

But mostly the empire, naturally.

My husband glances at Tribune Valerisse, who’s been allowed a spot at our exclusive table and who’s been following his conversation. “There will be no citizens more loyal, Your Imperial Majesty,” she promises.

Linus chuckles and turns his attention to his food. The tribune’s gaze slides over me, the faint warmth in her expression vanishing.

Gods only know what I’d have to do to impress her.

Next to her, High Commander Axius catches my gaze. He offers one of his thin smiles, but there’s a deferential note in his voice. “I understand you were engaged in your quest since early this morning, Your Imperial Highness. I must give credit to your fortitude—and your close connection to your godlen.”

I think he means that praise—and it was very clearly a compliment. Will wonders never cease?

I relax into my seat a little more and give him a genuine smile in return. “I honor both our deities and our emperor as well as I’m able to.”

If Valerisse’s lips curl with a hint of a sneer, I pretend not to see it. I suppose she doesn’t think much of any strength she can’t imagine being used in the middle of a battlefield.

The Lavirian royal chefs ply their trade well. I chew morsel after morsel, wanting to sample every dish possible. Whether meat or vegetable or grain, each bite melts in my mouth with a symphony of flavor. By the time the desserts are broughtaround, my stomach is achingly full despite my best attempts at moderation.

Linus looks quite pleased with his birthday feast. Throughout the meal, he raises his wine goblet in several toasts, mostly to himself, and laughs louder every time he drains it.

Will he arrange to secret a plate back to his brother, or will Marc be dining on travel rations tonight? It isn’t much of a celebration for the other twin.

I’ve fallen into a lull of calm when my husband abruptly shoves to his feet. “High Commander,” he calls out. “I think I may just be able to beat you at swordplay now. Indulge me on my birthday! A sword—someone get me a sword.”

As the palace staff scramble to find Linus an appropriate weapon, Axius stands with obvious reluctance. His own sword hangs at his hip in a decorative scabbard to fit the occasion but no less honed in battle for it. “Your Imperial Majesty?—”

“No, no, I don’t want to hear it!” Linus swings the sword he’s been handed through the air, nearly cutting off the ear of a nearby marchionissa, and bounds around the table with drunken enthusiasm. “Come on now, man. Draw your weapon!”

Axius gazes grimly at his emperor, standing slightly taller and noticeably broader than the younger man’s well-built frame. Even the measured movement of reaching for his sword’s grip radiates the power and experience he’s built over the years.

Linus smirks at him eagerly with a few more swipes of his blade through the air. Maybe I went a little overboard when it came to inciting boldness.

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