Page 23 of The Exile's Curse

"Good, that is settled. You will be given more details as we have them." Aristides paused as though considering something. "On another matter, you are aware that Chloe de Montesse has returned to our shores?"

Goddess, was the emperor determined to hit him everywhere he was vulnerable today? He gritted his teeth, willing his voice to indifference. "Yes, Your Imperial Majesty."

"You understand what it means?"

That he was damned and making a fool of himself at every turn? That maybe two months away might be exactly what was needed? "That it may stir up old memories? Yes." Charl had been guilty of treason, but he hadn't named all his co-conspirators in the matter. Hadn’t known them all as far as Lucien had been able to determine. Nor had the other men condemned with him. Whoever organized the plot had been cunning enough to hide themselves. If any of them were still alive and still had ambitions of that nature, Chloe would possibly be a rallying point or a reminder. Or a symbol.

"Exactly. So we will be careful. I would prefer that she is not caused further distress in this matter."

"So would I."

Aristides regarded him steadily. "You were friends with her and her husband, I recall."

"Yes."

"You were also the one who took her husband's confession? And informed her of his admission of guilt?"

Why was he asking when he knew the answer very well? The man had a mind like a steel trap. He forgot very little. Definitely not the details of trials involving treason. "Yes, Your Imperial Majesty. I didn't tell her to flee to Anglion, if that is what you’re asking."

He had only wanted to warn her to perhaps put herself out of sight for a few months so Charl's co-conspirators couldn't reach her if they tried. He still regretted that he had bungled that message and Chloe had fled.

"I cannot imagine that you did," Aristides said. "My apologies, my lord Truth Seeker, if I am causing you pain. Lady de Montesse—"

"She prefers Madame de Montesse," he said automatically. "Charl didn't use his title." It had only been a minor one, after all. His uncle had died without heirs, and Charl's father had become the marq not long after Charl and Chloe wed, but his older brother was the heir.

One of Aristides's dark brows lifted. "That does not change the fact that she is entitled to use it. I know she used ‘Madame’ in Anglion, but she is home now. Perhaps you and Lady de Montesse will be able to find some degree of friendship again."

"I don't expect so, Your Imperial Majesty. I condemned her husband. I can only imagine she loathes me." He wasn't going to tell Aristides that he had already seen Chloe and knew that to be fact. Not if Aristides didn't bring it up. He owed his emperor his loyalty, but he didn't see what his feelings about Chloe or hers for him had to do with that.

Aristides watched him with serious gray eyes, and Lucien tried not to look away. The man had an uncanny way of making Lucien feel like he was talking to his father. More than twenty years reigning as emperor added gravitas beyond his actual years.

"A difficult situation," Aristides said eventually. "But perhaps there can be a better outcome than you anticipate. People change with time. And they have a remarkable capacity for forgiveness. Or some of them do," he added.

Lucien didn't think Chloe did. Why should she forgive him? Some things were unforgivable.

"But, of course, this is a matter for the two of you to navigate. So let us return to Andalyssia. Do you have questions?" Aristides asked.

Lucien straightened. Frankly, talking about Andalyssia with Aristides and contemplating a long and complicated journey to the frozen ends of the empire was more appealing than discussing Chloe. "Yes, Your Imperial Majesty. I have a few."

Chapter 8

"Lady de Montesse, please, sit," the emperor said, indicating the chair opposite his. He sat by a small table, where a porcelain tea service was laid out. A half-full cup sat by his right hand, the faint floral scent of the tea drifting through the air.

Chloe moved toward the chair. Imogene had worked fast. Two days after the ball and she had an audience with the emperor. It seemed impossible, and she wished Imogene had stayed with her instead of merely escorting her to the audience chamber so she had a friendly face to steady her nerves. But if she wanted to seize a new life for herself, then she had to seize this opportunity first.

She sat, smoothing her skirts into place. She'd worn one of her nicest Anglion gowns, a silk in so dark a green it was nearly black and held a little of the rainbow sheen that the Academe robes had. "I prefer Madame de Montesse," she said. Well, actually, she wasn't entirely sure she preferred being Madame de Montesse, but it was better than “lady.” She was used to it. In Anglion, she'd stuck to “Madame” to establish her widowhood and offer no clue as to her real social status. In Kingswell, “Madame” was exotic, adding a small dose of mystery to entice the curious into her store.

Aristides quirked an eyebrow. There were a few silver threads in his hair now, but they somehow only emphasized the authority in his steady gray gaze. "You are entitled to the title. You should use it. Imogene tells me that you wish to join the Imperial mages. Are you eager to leave home again so soon?"

She barely stopped the flinch. She'd rehearsed an answer to this question, expecting him to ask, but those words now sounded too practiced in her head. How to explain when she didn't entirely understand herself?

"Not eager, Your Imperial Majesty. But—" She broke off, frustrated. She curled her fingers into her palm, then clasped her hands so she wouldn’t fidget like a nervous child. "It is difficult to explain. I lost ten years of my life in Anglion. I survived them, yes, and even made a life for myself, but it wasn't the life I once wanted. And I am afraid that, if I do not take steps to see if some of those old dreams might still be mine, I will lose the courage to try."

Aristides blinked, lifted his teacup, and sipped before putting it down. It was a delicate thing, the porcelain almost translucent where it wasn't painted with tiny golden suns. The emperor's fingers held it gently, but she couldn't help thinking he could crush it with a careless squeeze.

"You have never struck me as someone who lacks courage. As you said, you achieved something most others in your place have not. You built a life for yourself in quite unfavorable circumstances." He poured tea into one of the empty cups and passed it to her.

"A life now left behind," she said, accepting the tea. "Which leaves me back where I began."

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