Disillusioned the birthr.., p.5
Disillusioned (The Birthright Series Book 3), page 5
“I would be honored to pose for a photo,” I tell Giovanni and his adorable young son.
Only after every member of Alamecha has been received do I accept the well wishes from the Five. The rulers approach first, and I’m acutely aware how much these seemingly routine pleasantries matter. Inara takes up a position to my right, and Balthasar on my left, presumably in a show of support, but I suspect it may be to elbow me if I say anything untoward.
“My most sincere wishes for a long and prosperous rule.” Vela’s smile reminds me of a fox who recently devoured a house full of hens. “If you ever need an outsider’s opinion, please reach out to me.” She hands me a smallish box, and I lift the lid carefully.
An olive branch and a cell phone rest on velvet lining.
Vela leans closer. “You may call me freely with that phone, any time you’d like. I know our mothers have never gotten along, but I hope to set new precedents for our families. We are not our parents.”
“No,” I say. “We aren’t. Although I respect my mother and yours, I sincerely hope we can improve the relationship between our families.” The discord between Shenoah and Alamecha has been of great duration and terrible strength. If we can heal the breach, I’d be delighted and relieved.
“My gesture is sincere, but if you reach all the way down, you’ll find another gift hidden underneath.”
Below the olive branch, I find two sets of keys.
“If I knew you better, I might have gotten one or the other, but I wasn’t sure which you’d prefer,” Vela says.
I lift my eyebrows.
“Very few things clear my head like driving over a hundred miles per hour.” She points at the keys. “Those are being delivered in the next few days. An Aston Martin Valkyrie, and a Bugatti Chiron.”
“What colors?” Noah asks from a dozen feet away.
Part of me wants to slap him, but from past conversations, I know how much he loves sports cars.
“Red Valkyrie, black Chiron.”
“Nice,” Noah says.
Vela inclines her head to me so slightly that I almost don’t see it, and she circles around and heads for the exit, presumably to join the celebration in the ballroom. Just before she disappears out the back, she turns toward me and offers what appears to be a genuine smile. I return it. Our mothers hated one another, but hopefully some grudges can die with Mom.
“Melamecha,” I say. “Welcome to Ni’ihau, and thank you for coming.” I’m surprised she came instead of sending her daughter Venagra, who’s only two years younger than me, but perhaps she wanted to take my measure herself.
“I’ve noticed your mother’s ring,” she says.
I glance down to where it flashes angrily on my hand. I’m not sure how to address her implied question, because I’m not sure when to reveal my reaction to it, if ever. “Yes, it’s a beautiful stone, as is yours.” I look pointedly at the ring on her finger, which is barely illuminated at all, the refracting light is so gentle.
“Why does it flash like that?” She leans closer to whisper in my ear. “Is it the real ring? I hear there was some kind of complication, and wondered whether you recovered it.”
I slide the ring off my finger and watch her eyes widen when it turns black. I slide it back on and the colors flash even more vibrantly. “It’s authentic.”
She waves her hand and her Consort, Michael, lugs a chest up the steps and drops it at my feet. “It’s always frustrating to be stuck using jewelry and crowns fashioned in a completely outdated era by your mother or grandmother,” Melamecha says. “Russia has a surplus of precious stones, so I thought I could get you started on fashioning pieces to your taste.”
Michael flips the lid open to display the impressive cache of precious stones. Emeralds the size of my thumb, diamonds of nearly the same size, alexandrite, jade, amethyst, garnets, and even a few sapphires.
“What a thoughtful and generous gift,” I say. “Thank you.”
Melamecha tilts her head and I return the motion. She and Michael exit via the same path Vela took, but neither of them turns back around.
Analessa approaches next, entirely alone as she climbs the steps. “Chancery, you look magnificent. I’m sure you’ll handle the many challenges you’ll face with aplomb.”
She’s sure I will? Could she be any more condescending? And ‘many challenges’ sounds vaguely threatening. “I’m lucky to be surrounded by a very supportive Council,” I say. “Including your brother Edam, for instance.”
She flinches. Good. She hands me a box. I open it and lift a bundle of woven straps out. “Zeus?” The name’s engraved on a gold plate on the side of a purple halter.
“You may know that I adore horses,” she says. “And I heard you went riding often before your mother’s passing. I’ve arranged to have a dozen of my best horses brought to your stable here, or anywhere else you’d like.”
My eyes light up. She may be threatening and a little prickly, but I do adore a good ride when I have time. “Thank you. What a thoughtful gift. I assume one of them is named Zeus?”
“Yes, he’s the finest colt we’ve had from my most valued stallion, Cronus.”
As a bonus, she gets in a subtle jab that she’s stronger than me. But Zeus topples Cronus eventually.
“Don’t read anything into that,” Analessa says quickly. “I named him long before I had any intention of giving him to you.” She drops her voice. “But you’re in the middle of a viper pit, and I thought you should know you have allies. Your mother and mine were dear friends right up until her recent death. It’s my hope that we will be the same.” She glances pointedly at Edam. “And I know you value my brother’s friendship already.”
“I certainly do.” I want to tell her that I value him far more than I trust her, but discretion is supposed to be the better part of valor. She is right that I need allies, and when I start making unpopular proclamations, I’ll need them more than ever. Assuming her good wishes survive my rebellion against the evian status quo. “Thank you for this very generous gift. I’ll love them, I’m sure.”
“If you ever need anything,” she says, “day or night, please call me.”
I lift my eyebrows.
“I’m sure you have the main Malessa phone number, but Edam has my private line. Tell him to share it with you.”
She’s poking to see whether this surprises me, but I’m improving. I don’t acknowledge that I knew, but neither does my heart accelerate, my perspiration spike, or my face twitch. “I so appreciate that offer.”
She tilts her head in the same way Melamecha did, so I reciprocate. I don’t recall Mother ever doing that, but I wasn’t paying nearly enough attention to Mom’s interactions with the Five.
Ranana walks up the steps and drops into a very slight bow. “Congratulations on your successful coronation.” She gestures and two of her guards lift a very large painting onto the dais and carefully remove the brown wrapping.
When Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus is revealed, I can’t quite help my delighted gasp.
“I hope you like it,” Ranana says. “Mother sends her condolences that she could not come to welcome the newest empress herself, but other pressing matters kept her at home. She didn’t want her absence to be perceived as a slight.”
I shake my head. “Not at all.”
“She also felt that Venus resembles you in many ways. Botticelli was influenced by your mother when he painted it, you know.”
“I had no idea.” I study the image for a moment. I do see elements of Mom’s face in Venus, although I certainly hope Mom didn’t pose nude. The idea makes me smile. Mom would never have even considered that, especially not for a half-evian. “Frederick, please take this to my chambers.”
He salutes me and bounces up the steps, along with Arlington, and the two of them reverently carry it out of the throne room.
Ranana scowled at me during the majority of the coronation. I’m baffled by her welcoming greeting and impressive gift. I watch her departure closely, but she doesn’t spare me a backward glance.
Melisania strolls forward and takes the stairs slowly, not reaching the top until Ranana and all of her people are gone. She extends her hand to me, and when I take it, she pulls me in for an embrace. “I’m very sorry for your loss,” she says.
“Thank you.”
“I wanted to do more than offer you a simple gift. I wanted to offer you something that might actually help.”
I lift my eyebrows.
Melisania reaches into her shoulder bag and pulls out a thick sheaf of papers. “We trade a lot of food items, Alamecha and Lenora. We value that relationship, and I want it to continue.” She hands the papers to me. “Look over these and compare them to our current trade agreements. You’ll find that it’s nearly thirty percent better for your bottom line than our current terms. I’m willing to extend you that courtesy for the first three years, until you’re on your feet and in fighting shape.”
“It’ll take me some time to analyze—”
“Of course it will. I don’t expect you to do anything today, or tomorrow, or even next week. Once you have time to evaluate what I’m telling you, sign and return the papers. I noticed you chose Maxmillian to handle this type of thing, and I heartily approve. He’s a shrewd negotiator, and I promise, this will even meet with his approval.”
“Thank you,” I say again, and this time I mean it.
After Melisania heads over for the celebration, I breathe a sigh of relief. I’m stuck here accepting many, many more well wishes, but the most complicated are through. By the time I accept my last gold bar, fabulous diamond necklace, and overpowered sports car, it’s time for me to head over to the celebration. I’m supposed to be happy that I’m the new empress. But really, I wish I could dismiss the people on my Council who are still hanging around to support me and sneak across the hall to my room to change into pajamas and go to bed. I’m sick of this kind of pomp in every circumstance. Like everything else, I’m discovering that it’s thoroughly taxing. I wonder whether Judica hated these stupid parties as much as I do.
I wonder whether she’s alive to hate anything.
“Larena,” I say.
She makes her way to my side. “Yes, Your Majesty?”
“Did we hear anything from Alora?”
She shakes her head.
“Draw up a summons for Alora and see that it’s delivered immediately. It should require she attend me immediately, with an explanation for past acts prepared. Tell her if she doesn’t come to see me in the next three days, I’ll bomb her out of existence, never mind the collateral damage. Her half-evian children won’t survive something like that.”
Inara’s sly smile tells me she’s pleased with my reaction. Maybe I’m learning, or maybe not. I really hope Alora doesn’t call my bluff.
“Marselle?”
She’s waiting near the door a few dozen yards away, but she hastens over. I lower my voice once she’s close. “Any word of Judica or Angel’s whereabouts?”
“I know you’re worried that the two of them worked together to poison your mother, but I don’t think that’s likely. By all counts, no love was lost between your twin and Angel during the investigation. I think it’s more likely that the same person took both, or one of them took the other.”
I bob my head. “Balthasar said the same. I’m hoping Judica’s alive, actually, and not in danger. But if she is, I want to figure it out ASAP.”
“Understood,” Marselle says. “I’ll check in on my assets immediately and let you know.” She turns to leave and I square my shoulders in preparation to join the party in my honor.
“Wait,” Marselle barks.
I spin back around to face her.
“This isn’t about Judica.” Marselle stares at her phone. “But it is about Melina.”
“What is it?” I ask.
“Unusual activity at her compound. Doubled guards and several bizarre supply orders.”
“Like what?” I shift uneasily.
“Horse tranquilizers, for one, and a shipment of weapons.”
I shake my head. “Why? Because I’ve been named Empress?”
Marselle shrugs. “No one has heard anything from her for years now. Your guess is as good as mine.”
Great. I’ve been queen for an hour, and I may need to prepare for a civil war.
4
Puppy breath and a very sloppy tongue on my face wake me up. “Oh, come on Red Bull. It’s too early for you to be slobbering all over me.”
Edam insisted on sleeping on the sofa in my room again so Red Bull wouldn’t ruin my night. Apparently he woke Edam up a dozen times the night before. “Blast.” Edam leaps to his feet. “I’m so sorry I didn’t hear him before he woke you.”
Edam’s looks aren’t marred by poor sleep, bed head, or bleariness. He looks just as gorgeous as he always does, with his short blond hair perfectly styled, and his deep blue eyes clear and alert. Even his pajama shirt, clinging to his sculpted shoulders, chest, and abdominals, looks wrinkle free.
I glance down at my flannel shirt and pants and cringe a little inside. “I’ll take him out. It’s fine.”
Duchess lifts her head when I sit up and stretches her paws out in front of her. She whimpers and wuffs softly as she stretches her back legs too, one at a time. I scratch her under her chin and swing my legs out from under the covers.
It’s strange to have a dog that resembles a huge, shaggy white bear on my left side, and a bouncy, circle-spinning, tail-snapping bundle of silver muscle on my left, but it’s calming somehow, too. “Thanks,” I say.
“For what?” Edam yawns.
Oh great. Now I’m yawning too. “For Red Bull.”
“You mean Dart?” Edam winks. “You’re welcome.”
By the time I open the back door, Edam’s standing right behind me. “You’re coming?”
He shrugs. “Why not?”
I walk through my back door and past the guards. I’m becoming more accustomed to them being everywhere, but it’s still annoying. Edam and I walk to the furthest edge of the courtyard, where our view of the guards is obscured by riotously blooming hibiscus.
Red Bull pees, then frolics and frolics, chasing a butterfly that is confused about the time of day because of the courtyard light. Duchess watches him with one eyebrow raised, like she’s somewhat embarrassed he’s acting so goofy, and somewhat amused at the same time.
“It’s so nice to see you smiling,” Edam says. “I haven’t seen much of that recently.”
I duck my head, embarrassed.
“The duties of an empress can consume you,” Edam says. “You need to make sure you carve out some time for things you enjoy.”
“Like what?” I ask.
He steps closer and reaches toward my face. He casually tucks my hair behind my ear, but when his fingers brush the top of my ear, I shiver. “Reading, maybe. I used to see you out here reading a few afternoons a week.”
“Or?”
“Riding Napoleon. Every time I saw you thundering down the beach, it took my breath away.”
“Or?”
“Or anything else that makes you happy.” He steps closer still, our faces separated by mere inches, our bodies nearly touching.
“Like eating tacos, you mean?” I ask.
He chuckles and his chest swells. “Sure. Like tacos, if they’re spicy enough for you.” He leans down slowly, his lips nearing mine and the air thickens around us until I can barely breathe. When his lips brush against mine, the shiver that races up my spine eclipses the one I felt before like the sun to the moon, like a habanero to a bell pepper, like a tiger to a tabby. His arms circle mine, his mouth consuming me, lifting me up, and devouring me at once.
I realize, for the first time ever, that his heart is racing too, his pulse much faster than usual. His hand trembles at my waist, bunching the material of my flannel pajamas tightly. I want him to yank me closer, to need me like I need him.
But his soft groan, low and urgent, is almost as good. My fingers tighten on his sleeve and wrap around the muscle of his triceps, pulling him closer, answering his desire with my own. The sound of water spraying in a place where there shouldn’t be any water at all brings me back to reality and I freeze, speaking against his full lips. “What’s that noise?”
Edam leaps backward. “Oh, no, Dart, no. Bad boy.”
Red Bull peed on his foot. I can’t contain my laughter. “That’s what you get for calling him Dart.”
Edam starts to laugh too, his pee-soaked foot already forgiven.
“Puppies are a mess.”
Edam nods. “They sure are.”
“Remind me again why I have one?”
“Because he makes you smile,” he says, “and if we’re lucky, he’ll make you laugh like that again.”
One of my guards clears his throat.
“Yes?” I ask. “Is anything wrong?”
Bellatrius walks around the hibiscus. “A message from Balthasar.” She hands me a slip of paper.
“We really need to get that guy a cell phone and teach him to text,” I say.
Bellatrius doesn’t smile. Crap, what if it’s serious? I unfold the paper and read the message: Roman is gone.
He doesn’t say that Judica’s alive, but he doesn’t have to spell it out. When I hand the paper to Edam, the wheels in my head are already turning. If the man Judica chose as head of her personal guard after Edam left has vanished, it’s because she summoned him to her side. It’s too coincidental to be plausible that he disappeared for any other reason.
“We need to track his phone calls,” Edam says, striding back toward the palace. “We can find her now.”
“Stop,” I say. “If my sister fled, I won’t drag her back. And if she needs help, well, she chose not to call me about it. She called Roman.” It shouldn’t sting, that she doesn’t trust me, but for some reason it does.
“What are you saying?” Edam asks.
“Leave it alone for now. If we have any evidence that she’s attempting to raise an army, or if she joins forces with Melina or someone else. . .” I can’t quite bring myself to name Alora. “Well, then we’ll start talking about options. But for now, I told her she was free. If she ran as fast as she could away from here, well, I understand the sentiment.”
