Under darkened skies, p.3
Under Darkened Skies, page 3
The hallway outside her room was dark. To her right, Saros’s bedroom door was wide open. She didn’t need to peek in to know he wasn’t in there. The ceiling above her creaked, then footsteps shuffled overhead. He was still in the observatory.
What could he possibly be doing up there in the middle of the night? It didn’t matter. He probably wouldn’t tell her anyway.
They’d been so close for much of her life, Saros being something between an older brother and an uncle to her after her mother died. He’d always told her what he could about his work, and in return, he’d always asked about her own life. But everything had started changing six months prior, right around the winter solstice.
“Whatever,” Astrea muttered as she crept toward the kitchen.
She’d asked him at least a dozen times since then if something was bothering him or if he needed help. He was always tired, and he wouldn’t let Astrea heal him even when she insisted. Sarsali Nikaphoros knew many healers in the city; it didn’t have to be Astrea’s own magic that helped Saros. Eliana had plenty of connections if he needed something else. But Saros said there was nothing wrong, that he ‘simply had work to do.’
“You’re just like your mother, and she would be so proud,” he’d told her. “But you have to stop worrying about me.”
Astrea retrieved a glass from the cabinet to her left, filling it with cool water from the faucet. Just as she swallowed her first sip, a dark figure towered to her left. Her pulse jumped. She swore red eyes peered out of the darkness at her, but they were gone just as quickly as they’d appeared. A moment later, the floor creaked, and Saros rounded the corner into the kitchen.
“What are you doing up?” he asked.
“Storm woke me,” she lied. If Saros had finally come downstairs to go to bed, she didn’t want to tell him about the dream. It would worry him too much. “Night.”
“Goodnight,” he said as she passed him and slipped down the hallway to her room.
Astrea closed her bedroom door, but instead of climbing back into bed, she waited. Saros hadn’t followed her down the hall. It was dead silent except for the low rumbles of thunder.
And then she heard it. Footsteps overhead as the floor creaked.
She sighed as she slipped off her robe and crawled back into bed. Maybe someday she’d figure out what was bothering Saros, but it wouldn’t be tonight. Tonight, she needed to focus on going back to sleep. She needed to focus on being rested so she would be sharp for her meeting with the emperor.
Chapter 3
Astrea hadn’t been able to go back to sleep, and that fact was evident on her face as she stared into the mirror mounted above her vanity.
She had to be at the palace in an hour. The walk from the observatory to the palace itself would take all of fifteen minutes, but she needed to figure out what was both appropriate to wear for an audience with the emperor and not too formal for work. Was that even possible?
After waking up from the dream, Astrea had been kept up by the endless thunderstorms rolling in off the bay and her own incessant thoughts about the meeting and its implications. As much as she wanted to tell herself it was just about work, her mind wouldn’t be convinced so easily.
Astrea dabbed on moisturizer, then lined her upper lash line with kohl and swiped on some blush. She went to her wardrobe next and flicked through the various dresses, blouses, and skirts she typically wore to work. They were nice, but they didn’t feel right. Astrea skimmed through the handful of more elegant dresses she owned, pulling out a purple dress with wildflowers embroidered along the skirts. The hem fell mid-calf, and the transparent sleeves were definitely in fashion. It was one of the nicest dresses she owned. Good enough.
Slipping the dress on, Astrea smoothed the skirt over her wide hips, then pinned the top layers of her dark hair back with silver crescent moon clips. After finishing the outfit with a pair of white brogues and grabbing her satchel, Astrea took one last look in her vanity mirror. It was a little excessive for her long day in the stacks, but she’d just have to make it work.
Before stepping out the door, Astrea opened her bag. Her notebooks for work were there, as was the invitation from the emperor. She let her fingers skim the top of the envelope before buckling her satchel closed and flinging her bedroom door open.
The apartment was quiet. Saros must have already been up in the observatory; his bedroom door was open, and he wasn’t in the kitchen.
After grabbing her key ring from the hooks near the apartment door, Astrea started down the spiraling stairway outside. She went down one flight to the ground floor, then stepped out into the morning sunlight. The sea breeze was surprisingly cool despite the puddles left over from the night’s storms.
She started down the gravel path, passing the lake across from the observatory tower. It was her favorite spot on the palace grounds, and there was even an island in the middle that housed a beautiful stone gazebo. It was a spot she used to play in with Cressida when they were children, and Eliana joined them whenever she was able to slip away from her governess.
The Palace of a Thousand Suns came into view as Astrea rounded the bend. She should’ve been used to it by now, but the sight was always startling. The cover of the wide weeping willows and towering palms ended suddenly, giving way to the more manicured formal gardens filled with hedges and bushes covered in fragrant flowers. Everything from delphinium to roses to begonias and more were in bloom. The gardens still had a slightly wild look to them—a popular aesthetic among Helosian nobility and the wealthier businesspeople—but were nowhere near as overgrown as the sections near the observatory.
The imperial palace was anything but unkempt. The marble structure shone under the bright morning sun, a beacon. Three golden domes sat atop the palace—one on each wing and one in the middle, which was the public part of the imperial seat. Wide terraces stretched the lengths of the building, and the one in the front was covered by a roof held up by pillars. It really was beautiful, but it was still a shock amid the sea of green.
From here, the rest of the walk to the palace was easy. Three lefts, two rights, another left, and Astrea was out of the hedge maze on the eastern side of the compound. One summer when Astrea was twelve, she, Eliana, and Cressida had spent the mornings before lessons figuring out exactly how to navigate the maze, and Astrea had never forgotten.
She continued west, approaching one of the terraces. Even though there were only a few stairs from the garden up onto the landing, Astrea took them slowly, controlling her breathing as she went.
It was real now. She was really going into the palace, not to meet with her friend or find her uncle, but to speak with Emperor Aelius.
Stop panicking. Nothing’s going to happen.
Astrea’s right foot hit the terrace first, and she continued without missing a beat. Two young men walked out through the double doors ahead. She stepped to the side, but one held the door open for her.
“Busy morning?” he asked.
Astrea glanced up at his face, taking in his dark brown skin and eyes. He was young, perhaps a few years older than herself. She recognized him from somewhere. His well-tailored suit, gold jewelry, close-cropped hair, and perfect posture all screamed nobility. His friend was equally well-dressed and well-postured, though his pale complexion almost blended in with the white palace exterior. Eliana had surely pointed them out at some party or function, but Astrea didn’t know their ranks or names.
Rather than risk offending someone, she simply nodded. That might still offend someone, but the wrong title was worse than no title at all.
The man holding the door open gestured for her to go through, and Astrea ducked her head.
“Thank you, sir.”
She didn’t stick around to hear whatever the two men said. Instead, Astrea scurried into the cool palace interior.
Just inside was a large sitting room, then a corridor beyond. She wasn’t exactly sure where the emperor’s office was, but she could check the throne room first. That would be toward the middle of the palace.
“Miss Sovna?”
Astrea stopped. She’d just gotten to the hallway when the man spoke her name. She turned. A palace guard stood behind her, dressed in the standard red structured uniform trimmed in gold.
Breathe.
“Yes?” Astrea asked.
“I’ll escort you to your appointment.”
The man was unfamiliar to her. She knew most of the palace guards; it was hard not to meet them when she was their neighbor. He was pale, taller than most of the guards by at least a few inches, and his nearly snow-white hair was cropped close to his head. His amber eyes were the most normal thing about him—some kind of fire or earth mage. Every palace guard was a mage. So what was his specialty? Astrea wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.
“Oh.” She flashed a quick smile. “Thank you. That would be lovely.”
“Follow me.” The unfamiliar guard didn’t smile back.
In fact, Astrea couldn’t sense anything from him at all. Although her Lightbringer magic allowed her to sense other people’s emotions and even feel their physical pain if it was strong enough, some were good at keeping things close to their chest. She thought of it as a wall or mask. She could always feel that strange block, and Astrea could even imagine her magic moving around it as if it were a physical thing.
Astrea followed the man down several corridors, none of which she was familiar with. At one point, they crossed through the main atrium of the palace, the heart of imperial court activity. The massive hall was bustling with well-dressed businesspeople, a handful of courtiers Astrea recognized, and even diplomats from the Delian embassy. How many of these people were here to see the emperor and how many were here to liaise with his children and advisors? She’d have to ask Eliana later.
Astrea didn’t see her royal friend as the guard led her through the throng of people. Nobody even seemed to notice Astrea either, all of them too busy discussing whatever business they deemed so important. The guard led Astrea down a wide main hallway on the other side of the palace, then turned down several smaller ones.
As they approached the end of the hall, Astrea actually recognized where she was. They’d just passed Eliana’s office door, which was shut. Was she supposed to know the emperor’s office was right here? It was so . . . unassuming, something the emperor never was. It was just a plain brown door with the imperial seal etched in it, a mirror image of Eliana’s and the other two offices here. Astrea had always assumed they were the four offices of the emperor’s four children.
The guard stepped toward the door. “Wait here.”
You don’t have to tell me twice.
The guard lifted his fist, but the door opened before he could knock. Out stepped a surprisingly familiar face. Willowy figure, dark spiraling curls, smooth wide nose, and warm copper skin—what was Cressida Nikaphoros doing here?
Lavender surprise exploded around her friend. Astrea almost called out to her, but Cressida simply shook her head once and mouthed ‘gardens’ as she passed. Then Cressida was gone, and the guard was motioning for Astrea to follow him. Sucking in a deep breath, she followed him into the office. Later, she promised herself. She would find out what Cressida was doing there later. Just focus.
“Your Imperial Majesty,” the guard said as Astrea stepped up next to him, “may I present Miss Astrea Sovna.”
“Have a seat, Miss Sovna.”
Astrea turned to look at the guard, but he was already closing the door behind him on his way out. She turned back toward the emperor and smiled, dipping into the curtsy Eliana had taught her years ago.
“Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty.”
Even before she’d met him as a child, Astrea had heard of the Helosian Emperor and his armies. He lived up to his reputation as a handsome leader: tan skin, a striking jawline, straight nose, thick black hair even in his middle age, and the second most brilliant pair of golden eyes Astrea had ever seen. He hadn’t changed much since she first met him fourteen years prior. Even his suit made of rich black brocade was no different.
Emperor Aelius motioned for her to sit in one of the plush chairs in front of his massive oak desk. She took a few steps forward until she was next to the chair on the right. She sat, careful to gather her skirts before doing so and setting her satchel in her lap. Breathe.
The emperor leaned back in his chair behind his desk, fingers steepled in front of his lips. Should she say something? Astrea didn’t think so. She might risk offending the young nobleman who held the door open, but the emperor? Absolutely not.
“Would you like some tea, Miss Sovna?” Emperor Aelius asked. Before she could respond, he tapped a button on his desk. The sound of a radio crackled to life. “Bring tea to my office for me and my guest.”
She didn’t realize he had an intercom, but the palace always had any new technology before the rest of the population, thanks to Cressida’s father’s company. Cressida had been telling her about the invention a few weeks before.
“Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty,” Astrea said. “Tea sounds lovely.”
“Your Majesty.”
Astrea knew she was staring at the emperor wide-eyed, but she didn’t know what to do with the correction. All she sensed from him was cool curiosity. No malice, no anger, no rage. Not even annoyance. She hated that she couldn’t control this part of her magic, that she could still read him. Nobody could tell she was an empath; she didn’t glow, nor did any light spill from her fingers like it did when she healed.
All night, she’d been awake imagining all kinds of versions of this moment. A big reveal that he’d discovered her secret. Guards dragging Saros into the office to face punishment with her. Questioning about her friendship with Eliana. A warning to stay away from his daughter, even. But being offered tea? The calm the emperor now exuded? This was not how Astrea imagined this meeting going at all.
“I find,” Emperor Aelius continued, the corners of his thin lips pulling up, “that my full title is a bit of a mouthful when having a simple conversation.”
Astrea held his gaze. Was this some kind of test? It didn’t seem to be, even if it was unexpected. “Of course, Your Majesty.”
He smiled. “My daughter tells me you’ve grown into your role at our city’s beautiful library. You have worked there for . . . ?”
Thank you for this, Ellie, Astrea thought ruefully.
“For just over two years, Your Majesty. I started after graduating university.”
“And you studied here in Kalama, right?”
“I did.”
“Very good. The best university on the continent. Eliana mentioned that you started studying there when you were just sixteen?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Saros had encouraged Astrea to start taking part-time university classes earlier than normal; whatever her tutors had for her to work on was never challenging enough. She’d received two degrees, one in Helosian literature and one in Tornamian language studies.
The office door opened, and Astrea turned. Emperor Aelius was already on his feet and moving toward it, each movement measured and graceful. The same snowy-haired guard from before had rolled in a cart laden with tea and small breakfast pastries.
“Thank you, Caliban. That will be all,” the emperor said.
The guard—Caliban—bowed before leaving the room again. Then the emperor did the unthinkable. He poured his own tea.
Did he do this every meeting just to surprise his guests? At the handful of palace functions she’d attended with Eliana in recent years, Astrea had never seen the emperor pour anything.
“How do you take your tea, Miss Sovna?”
Astrea would have loved to see the look on her own face in that moment. “Two spoonfuls of sugar, Your Majesty.”
“Ah, a sweet tooth.” He laughed, a warm sound.
I don’t think I’ve ever heard him laugh like that.
“I believe it runs in my family, Your Majesty.”
The emperor laughed. Again. At something she said.
“Hopefully this is to your liking,” he said, and Astrea stiffened when she realized he was placing a tea cup on his desk in front of her. “You were telling me you studied here in Kalama. Do you like being a librarian, Astrea?”
Reaching for the teacup and saucer, Astrea balanced it carefully in her hands. “I do, Your Majesty.”
Emperor Aelius nodded, sipping his tea before setting the cup back down on his desk. “I’m glad to hear you’re already serving the empire. The task I ask of you is in even greater service to the people of this nation.”
What was that supposed to mean?
“Your Majesty?” Astrea swallowed hard. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
Pushing his chair back, the emperor stood again and strode to the right side of his office. Maps of differing sizes, countries, and colors decorated the wall. Emperor Aelius paused in front of one, his suit jacket wrinkling as his arms crossed behind his back.
“Astrea, I know you are in my daughter’s confidence. Surely you recognize that we are fighting wars on multiple fronts: our attempts to overcome unruly neighbors, and of course, unruly groups within our own borders.”
Astrea knew about the war and the so-called rebellion. Who didn’t? The newspapers had a new story about the war every day and about the rebels every week. At the very least, they published speculation about which nobles and senators had been caught dissenting in public.
That was really all the rebellion was: talk. People gathered in salons in the city to discuss ideas about government and policy. They opposed the Corsycan war. They tried to sway Senate representatives to their side—not that it mattered. The Senate was purely ceremonial. Though its sixty-five members were elected, they had no influence over imperial policy. Emperor Aelius was the one who actually made the laws.
The rebels also wanted Eliana to be named heir, or at least that was the rumor. Emperor Aelius had yet to formally declare which one of his four children would take over for him someday. Kaius was the favorite pick. But the rebels certainly weren’t violent. They weren’t ‘unruly,’ as the emperor called them.
