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Chapter Thirteen

Lorenzo

A s we step into the vast storeroom in the depths of the palace, one of Aurelia’s guards makes a gesture that lights up the magic-blessed lanterns along the ceiling.

Their enchanted glow sweeps over stacks of crates topped with glittering material and row upon row of decorative furniture and vehicles.

The empress blinks, her lips parting with awe. “I—I didn’t realize we had such an extensive assortment of festival equipment.”

One of the other guards—Kassun, who always seems particularly eager to impress her—grins as if he was directly responsible for building the collection.

“The imperial family always loves putting on a good show for the people when it’s time to celebrate.

I guess you haven’t gotten to see much of that here in Vivencia since we were on the tour most of the past year. ”

Aurelia nods as if in a daze and drifts through the stale air between the looming paraphernalia of past revels. She beckons me. “Let’s see what we can find, Your Highness.”

This once, the woman I love can consult with me openly. I’m the highest ranked member of court who’s dedicated to Inganne, after all.

For show, I pull out the sheaf of papers and pencil I keep in my belt pouch. As far as the guards know, that’s how I’ll be communicating with her.

I might feel it’s wisest to let our closest allies know my full gift, but spreading word widely isn’t likely to work in our favor. The more secret powers we have up our sleeve when Valerisse makes a real move, the better.

Aurelia trails her fingers along the side of a vibrant gold-and-green sedan chair and gazes up at a massive wooden statue of Estera, which would be pulled behind a carriage on the wheeled platform it’s poised on.

She’s taken a meandering path designed to draw us out of view of her guards—except Marc, who she’s allowed to trail closer behind us so the others don’t fret.

As if an assassin would bother lurking down there.

“I suppose there’s some level of organization—materials grouped by the festival they’re meant to be used for?” she says just loud enough for the former emperor to hear. “Where would we find the Inganalia supplies?”

Marc’s mouth twists apologetically. “I’ve never been down here myself. The staff has always brought everything out.”

“Hmm. Well, it can’t hurt to explore and see everything that’s on offer. Inganne does value creativity.”

Aurelia shifts her attention to me, with a smile that washes a warmer glow over me than that of the lanterns. “What do you think would win your godlen’s respect the most—what would convince her that I’ll uphold her ideals if I remain on the throne?”

I’ve been mulling that question over since Aurelia first mentioned her plans.

“You’re focusing on her devotion to children and encouraging the same devotion throughout Vivencia, but you don’t want to neglect her other domains.

It’s easy to bond through play—we should offer plenty of games where the citizens can mingle.

And artistic activities—not just showing off spectacles of art but creating it together. ”

Aurelia nods thoughtfully. “We want to put everyone on equal ground, the nobles seeing how little difference there is at heart between their children and the commoners’.

I don’t think it’ll do to try to raise up the city folk, so perhaps we encourage the nobles to let down their airs.

Have fun, make a mess for the sake of fun or art. ”

“That sounds perfect. Although you’ll need to be careful how far and quickly you push them. Not many in the court like the idea of embarrassing themselves in public.”

“We can ease them in… Oh, I see some orange over there! That must be Inganne’s section.”

As she picks up her pace, I can’t help glancing back toward Marc. He’s giving us plenty of distance even with his shadowing, hanging some ten paces behind, but his gaze remains fixed on Aurelia as if she’s the only thing he can see.

As if she’s the only thing he’d want to see.

The intensity in his eyes and the yearning I can practically taste emanating off him set my skin prickling.

I have to suppress the urge to step closer to Aurelia and wrap my arms around her in a shield of affection, as if I need to ward off his.

If what he feels for her could even be called affection.

We need to work with him. I believe he wants to protect her. But I can’t shake the feeling that he’d claim her for only himself all over again if he could, whether she agreed or not .

He doesn’t make any move to interfere or even interject himself into our conversation, which I’ve let him overhear my end of. Aurelia doesn’t pay him any mind, so I force myself to dismiss his presence as well as I can.

It’s my help our empress needs most right now anyway. The success of this festival could depend on how well I guide her.

As we move between the decorations and apparatus splashed with Inganne’s favored color and many others besides, I dredge up as many memories as I can from the festivals I attended as a child, especially those back in Rione before I was dragged here as a hostage.

My home kingdom values the godlen of creativity’s contributions more than Dariu ever has. They think life is all about might and dominance. We’ve always wanted to foster artistic inspiration.

I point out a couple of familiar items. “Those discs make for a pretty elaborate game of collaboration that the kids usually find entertaining. There are opportunities for their parents to get involved too, to make it even more of a joint effort. And that long banner—I don’t remember seeing it played here in Vivencia before, but in Rione there’s an activity that’s sort of a mix of obstacle course and follow the leader that’s popular. ”

“You’ll have to explain the rules of that one. I never saw that in Accasy either.” Aurelia stops to finger the edge of a swooping silk canopy embroidered with a complex pattern. “Usually there’s some paint that gets thrown around.”

More memories from back home swim up. “We can do better than that. Maybe large murals on the walls of buildings that children and parents can add to together, or a swath of fabric they could paint and then you display it at the palace. There’s a game you can play with the art, each person attaching one shape or symbol to the one before. ”

“I like that.” She taps her lips, studying a carriage that holds a sculpted tree dotted with silk butterflies.

“If we include a parade, we could get the children involved with that too. Show off minor talents, dance around, all in good fun. Although the nobles might balk at their children mingling with the commoners to begin with…”

“We could save that for the end, once they’ve already gotten comfortable.”

“Yes, perfect. It doesn’t feel like quite enough, though. We want the festival to have a lasting impact that Inganne will approve of. The art might help with that. I’ll need to think on what other elements could be more permanent.”

“Simply making the festival an official annual event might be enough,” I point out.

“An additional honor to her alongside her usual yearly celebration. I’ll keep mulling over other possibilities …

I should stop by the library. There might be some references to older practices from the Inganalias of centuries past that we could incorporate.

There’s a whole section of books in Rionian I could check. ”

Aurelia smiles at me. “Go ahead, if you think that’s where you’re most likely to find more inspiration.”

She takes a quick glance around to make sure no one but Marc is in view and then steps closer to give me a quick kiss. The brush of her lips leaves heat coursing through my veins.

I squeeze her hand before weaving back through the stacks of equipment toward the doorway.

The posted guards don’t spare me a second glance. I hurry past them into the halls, not slowing until I’ve reached the vast imperial library.

The foreign volumes are kept in an out-of-the-way nook in a far corner. As I walk over to that section, the familiar stillness settles over me like a balm on my nerves.

Out of all the godlen, Aurelia shouldn’t have any trouble winning Inganne to her side. There’s no denying how much she loves her daughter, and she’s sacrificed so much in the hopes of making a better life for all the empire’s children.

Inganne should want the suffering of the conquered countries to be replaced with joy just as much as Aurelia does.

But we can’t take anything for granted. The court will need to be convinced this new festival is worthwhile if she wants them to support any other schemes later on.

What will she have to do to impress Kosmel with his love of trickery? Or Creaden, for that matter, after all the efforts past emperors have dedicated to him?

When I reach the shelves of Rionian texts, I scan the spines for anything from times long past that might mention more playful activities. I’ve pulled out a couple of volumes to peruse when my gaze snags on a slim book squeezed so tightly between two thick ones it’s barely visible.

I ease it out, my fingers smearing the dust that’s gathered on it. No one’s looked at most of these texts in quite a while.

The faded title on the front cover doesn’t speak of festivals or the arts, but I can tell from the style of the script that it’s from at least a few centuries past. The Principles of Rionian Statecraft.

It’s possible it says something about the running of celebrations. And it might be the oldest book in this bunch. Anything that could have since fallen out of common knowledge will be useful.

Since it’s the smallest, I crack it open first after I settle into my chair. I page through cramped print detailing the system of governance across the old duchies and the rules of inheritance, scanning for anything more relevant.

Then I turn another page and find myself looking at rows of whorled lines like orderly abstract art.

I peer closer. It’s a code—laid out efficiently for the officials the author obviously expected might need to use it. A method of conveying messages that no one outside the Rionian governing bodies should be able to recognize.

As my hand lingers on the page, my mother’s voice drifts up through my mind. This is still a war, even if they want to pretend we’re at peace. And we have to make use of every resource at our disposal.

My pulse kicks up a notch, but at the same time, queasiness grips my gut.

I can also remember, ever so clearly, the sadness and resignation on my mother’s face and in her voice when I tried to tell her to have faith in Aurelia. Her melancholy dismissal of my comments as the result of my soft heart.

“Did you find something useful?”

My heart outright skips a beat at the sudden voice, even though I recognize it in the same moment.

I raise my head. Bastien has come up by the nearest bookcase, peering at the volume in my hand and the others stacked next to my chair. I was so lost in thought I didn’t hear the prince of Cotea approaching.

Maybe , I convey with a twitch of my hand, and switch to speaking through illusions.

“I might have found a method to convey a message to my mother from a distance without any risk of the Darium forces in Rione stumbling on it. It occurred to me… maybe we should be reaching out to our home kingdoms. They have more to gain than anyone if Aurelia can hold on to the throne.”

Bastien lets out a soft huff of breath. “They do. But it’d be a tricky thing, letting them know that without the military and the governors catching on to her full intentions before she’s in a position to carry them out.”

“Yes. This could help solve that problem. But I don’t know if I can solve the problem of getting my family to listen to my advice once I give it to them. ”

Bastien grimaces. “I suspect we’d all have a struggle there.”

The doubt that shadows his face at my words sends a sharper spike of nausea through my abdomen. A surge of defiance carries me above the wobbles of my own self-doubt.

Why should we cringe at the thought of facing our families? We’ve done more to improve the empire than they ever have.

We’ve gotten an empress who’ll free us all onto the throne, protected her, championed her. We’re fighting to support her cause even now. At her side, we’ve overturned two emperors and convinced so much of the empire to admire a woman who isn’t even of the imperial line.

We can’t shy from a challenge now, no matter how personal or difficult it is.

“We have to try,” I say, putting all the conviction I can into my words. “Open the lines of communication, prepare them for what might come and encourage them to see what’s possible. We owe it to Aurelia to win as many allies as we can from outside this country while she’s working on Dariu.”

My foster brother’s stance straightens to match my tone. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. I don’t have any secret codes myself… Perhaps I should go digging in the Cotean shelves. But you can at least make a start of it.”

“There’s only the question of how to send the coded message. If I convey it by regular means, some Darium authority will check it before it gets into my mother’s hands—and question why anyone from the palace is sending a letter so secretive.”

Bastien’s eyes go distant with thought. “When we were in Accasy, one of the baronissas—I think it was Hivette?—mentioned something about a gift for sending messages by magical means.”

A smile crosses my lips for the first time since I discovered the code. I set out today to bring the city of Vivencia together for a common celebration… but I may be on my way to uniting this entire half of the continent.

“Let’s discuss it with Aurelia tonight and see what the baronissa can do for us.”