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Chapter Seven

Raul

W hen Aurelia steps into the military workout room for her fourth training session, none of the imperial soldiers who glance over look surprised. Sauntering in behind her, I catch several smiles before they yank their attention back to their own exercises with the expected strict discipline.

They like having an empress who’d stand a chance at whooping their asses in a fight—and who’d want that chance.

Captain Evando nods to me after his brisk bow to Aurelia. “Prince Raul—we haven’t seen you in some time, Your Highness.”

I pick up one of the training swords and test its weight in my hand. “I thought it was time to brush up on my skills, seeing as all of us may be called on to defend the rightful rulers of our empire as we’re able. ”

His answering hum sounds approving. Better they all think I’m here out of devotion to their blasted empire than to the woman I love.

Conveniently, both versions of devotion look very similar at the moment.

As Aurelia stretches and goes through a few basic exercises to warm up her limbs, the gem on the pommel of her sword gleams by her hip. A few nearby soldiers peer at it with surreptitious curiosity.

This is the first time she’s brought the Sabrelle-blessed blade anywhere outside her chambers. Before we left, she declared it was time she started getting some practice with her most powerful weapon.

It is an incredible sword. The way the steel sings as she pulls the blade from its sheath sends a shiver over my skin. I wouldn’t mind a chance to stab and slash with that beauty.

But the honor is all Aurelia’s. As it should be, if she’s going to convince our godlen of war to stop being such a fucking idiot.

A hush falls over the room at the sight of the blessed sword. None of the soldiers know its history, but there’s no mistaking the craftmanship or the sigil on the hilt.

Captain Evando pauses, studying it. “You’ve brought your own weapon this time.”

Aurelia slices the blade through the air.

“I’ve been informed that this sword is sacred to the family I married into, a treasure that will belong to my daughter when she’s grown and one meant to defend the imperial line from all threats.

It seemed appropriate that I make use of it for that purpose now. May Sabrelle look kindly on me.”

She flicks her fingers down her front in the gesture of the divinities, but I catch a hint of dryness in her tone. The godlen hasn’t shown any signs of relenting in her campaign of disapproval so far .

“A reasonable decision,” Evando says, and raises his own sword. “I look forward to seeing it in action. It’s a little larger than the blades you’ve practiced with before—we’ll go through the forms more slowly to start.”

I want to bristle on Aurelia’s behalf, but in the glimpses I get of their tentative sparring while I engage in my own mock-battles, it appears he had a point. Aurelia’s been working with the blessed sword in the privacy of her chambers, but I suppose I’ve gone too easy on her.

As Evando picks up his pace, a tremor runs through her arm. Her shoulder tenses with the strain.

A remark carries from the cluster of guards watching her performance. “A solid defense still needs to deal out a little pain on your opponent.”

At the authoritative tone, my hand tightens around the hilt I’m clutching. My sparring partner nearly smacks my sword from my grasp before I recover from my annoyance.

Knocked down from his lofty position as emperor and still unable to keep his mouth shut. When I sneak a look at Marc, he’s standing at proper attention, his expression somber.

Who asked for his opinion? And does he have to fucking stare at the woman who no longer belongs to him as if no one else exists in the room?

I’d like to go over and cut his eyes right out, but sadly he hasn’t done anything that would justify the act to anyone watching. They all think he’s the hero who saved her.

Never mind the shit they don’t realize he inflicted on her before that point. She wouldn’t have needed saving if he’d smartened up and dealt with his brother months ago.

Between bouts, I step back to gulp water and wipe the sweat from my face.

Aurelia is jabbing and feinting with total determination, but it’s obvious how much effort she’s having to exert.

Her jaw has tightened. She barely manages to raise the blade in time to deflect a blow from Evando that wasn’t terribly fast.

I love watching her determination. So much strength radiates through every beautiful inch of her body even though she’s struggling. Damn, she’s a wonder.

Not everyone appreciates her the same way, though. The soldiers are watching her practice more openly now, but there are fewer smiles showing. Are they starting to worry that their empress isn’t up to the task after all?

Maybe she brought her shiniest toy out too soon.

I cast my gaze over her current host of personal guards. Alongside Marc, I don’t spot any of the soldiers we’ve determined have the ability to sense magic usage.

Aurelia’s been sending the few who do possess that gift to guard Coraya rather than herself. I suppose her daughter is the more prominent target, and the rest of the court will probably approve of that consideration.

Most of the time I’d rather Aurelia had every bit of protection she can get. At this particular moment, I’m grateful for the lack of surveillance.

Casually, I circle around the imperial sparring match so I’m standing near a shadow cast by one of the room’s pillars. The streak of darkness falls between Aurelia and Captain Evando.

As if stretching my fingers, I dip my hand into the shadow and send up an appeal to my patron godlen.

Kosmel, let my gift be as discreet as a breath. Let no one suspect any subterfuge.

Once I’m touching the darkness, it firms automatically against my grip. I will the streak of shadow to shift ever so slightly: lifting it a bit here, widening it a bit there. Keeping it filmy, not too forceful.

With Aurelia’s next swings, I brace the weight of the blade so it glides through the motions that much more easily. With a nudge, I help her send Evando’s blade swinging aside.

Aurelia’s gaze flickers my way. She doesn’t look directly at me, but she must have sensed the assistance and guessed that I’m behind it. It’d be a little much to expect her not to pick up on the intervention.

No one else has any clue, thank the godlen of trickery. I ease her way through a few more clashes, until admiring murmurs are spreading through the growing audience. I haven’t pushed for anything flashy, just polished her technique a bit.

Evando stops and motions to the soldiers who’ve fallen out of their own practice. “You’re here to train, not gape.”

As the abashed soldiers turn back to their own concerns, Aurelia swipes her sleeve across her forehead. “That’s enough of a session for me today. I’ll see you again tomorrow.”

“You did well, Your Imperial Highness,” Evando says. “It won’t help anyone if you push yourself too hard.”

I fill another glass from the pitcher for my empress. “Water, Your Imperial Highness?”

Aurelia smiles at me obligingly if a tad crookedly. When she comes over to receive the drink, she drops her voice so no one but me will be able to hear. “I was managing all right.”

“Hmm. But you manage a little better when we combine our skills. I want the army as impressed as you deserve.”

“I’m not sure I can say I earned it if it’s with help.”

“And didn’t you earn my help?” I tsk at her teasingly, but my own words have lit a glimmer of inspiration in my head.

“Bastien and I did accomplish some interesting things by combining our skills. I wonder if that’s an area of possibility we haven’t delved into enough.

The Coteans think collaborations between gifts are worthy of an entire school. ”

“Somewhat harder when you’re avoiding showing you have those gifts at all,” Aurelia points out. “But let’s think on that all the same.”

As she drains the last of the water, Marc ambles over. This once, he’s looking at me rather than her.

I’m not sure I like that better.

His cool gray gaze rakes over me, just as irritating as it was when a crown was sitting over it. At least he has enough sense to keep his own voice hushed. “Aurelia steadied a fair bit toward the end there. I don’t suppose you had anything to do with that.”

I gaze back at him blankly, but I can’t stop an edge from creeping into my words. “Isn’t that the point of practice—for her to get better as she goes?”

One of his eyebrows lifts at a skeptical angle. “The one time I had the chance to observe your full gift in action, I was distracted by other matters, like ensuring our empress didn’t die . How exactly did Kosmel really bless you?”

I smile at him tightly. “I don’t see how that’s any of your concern. Hardly my fault if you couldn’t be bothered to take note when you had the chance.”

Marc’s eyes narrowed. “As our foster brother from Rione noted the other day, we’ll all have a much easier time supporting Aurelia if we know what resources we’re working with. He volunteered to demonstrate his gift.”

“Well, as fond as I am of Lorenzo, he and I don’t always see eye-to-eye. And I’m not all that interested in your version of ‘support.’”

Aurelia exhales with a note of exasperation. “Men?—”

“It was a simple question,” Marc breaks in, his voice hardening. “If your ego is that much bigger than your consideration for?—”

A thumping of footsteps breaks through his growled retort and brings all our eyes jerking toward the doorway.

Neven is just skidding to a halt in the hallway beyond, his face flushed. He gathers himself with a sharp breath and then appears to hesitate. His gaze darts uneasily over the gathered soldiers, many of whom have also glanced his way.

His attention settles on Aurelia with a twitch of his hand at his side that looks almost frantic. Come.

My stomach knots. What new catastrophe is about to crash down on us?

Aurelia knows better than to let any panic show herself. She glides over to the doorway as if she’s in full imperial regalia instead of a relatively plain training dress and aims a gentle smile at my younger foster brother. “Prince Neven, have you decided to train today after all?”

The simple question seems to put him more at ease. He bobs his head respectfully. “Not right now. There was something I wanted to mention to you. If this isn’t a good time…”

His beseeching eyes imply it had better be good.

Aurelia motions him back into the hall. “I was just finishing up. My late husband’s foster brothers should have my ear as they need it. What’s on your mind?”

As her guards trail after her, I decide no one will think it odd if I tag along to see what’s bothering my fellow prince. I follow at Marc’s heels, resisting the urge to wallop him in the back of the head. Not that he wouldn’t deserve it.

As usual, Aurelia’s guards give her space for her conversation while keeping a close eye on her surroundings. When I reach them, Neven is already partway through his hushed but urgent explanation.

“It’s just a feeling… Like she’s preparing me—and maybe any other dedicats she has around—for something important. Telling us to be ready to see… some kind of unveiling or reveal? I’m sorry I can’t be more definite.”

Aurelia pats his arm, a brief reassurance that’s all she can offer as empress to subject. “It’s all right. The godlen are rarely explicit in their messages. I appreciate the warning.”

She steps back to the doorway. “Captain Evando, I may have need of additional guards this afternoon. If there’s anyone you feel could leave off their training for more immediate matters, please have them join me.”

The captain knows his place—he doesn’t question her request. With a few efficient gestures, he points out several soldiers and calls them over. “Get on your full uniforms and stay with Her Imperial Highness until she dismisses you.”

In a matter of minutes, Aurelia has set off with nearly three times her previous entourage of armed men and women. I watch her go, grappling with the tension coiling ever tighter in my gut, wishing I had an excuse to stay with her too.

“Signs from Sabrelle?” I ask Neven.

He nods. “I think so. I just didn’t like the feel of it.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

The words have barely left my mouth when a trumpet blare reverberates through the palace walls. My spine goes rigid.

Whatever trouble Sabrelle has planned, it’s here.