by M. J. Scott
"Is that what the emperor wants?"
"It is our experience that those who experience other places, other ways of living, who can adapt are those who begin to see the benefits of the empire over the old ways of viewing everyone who is not of your country or kin as the enemy." She raised her chin. "You should understand that. Your country is isolated. You were told the empire was a place of nightmares and terrors and untold depravations. Why? To keep you fearful. To keep you controlled."
"To keep us free."
"Really? Free for what? To live your life confined to one small island? To have your magic bound from you? That does not seem like freedom to me."
Sophie opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again. What exactly was the counterargument to that? And if she couldn't think of one, what did that tell her about Anglion? That perhaps the court and the temple there were no better than Aristides and his line? She didn't know. She frowned down at her hands, seeing the faint hint of wrinkles forming on her fingertips. "Perhaps freedom is different for someone who comes from a line of conquerors."
"You come from a line of conquerors yourself," Imogene retorted. "You are in the line of succession for your throne. Your queen's forebears overthrew others to take that crown. They did things that probably even the history books don't mention. That blood runs in your veins. So the only difference might be that I am perfectly clear how things are run here in Illvya. And in your country, it's all still shrouded in mystery."
"You may understand how things are run here, but does someone not in the court? Not a mage? I'm not sure that Illvya is any easier to understand than Anglion."
"At least we don't lie to women about their magic."
Chapter 12
Sophie opened her mouth to retort, then snapped it shut. It was an accusation she couldn't refute. "Just because Anglion has faults, that doesn't mean Illvya is perfect," she said eventually.
"No," Imogene agreed. "No country is. But do you think you could return to Anglion and live as you did before? Restricted to only earth magic. Knowing your sisters and daughters and friends would never be able to reach their full potential?"
"I—" She hesitated. "Perhaps not. But I don't think Aristides is overly concerned with the welfare of my countrywomen."
"Is change not a worthy goal?"
"Change comes at a cost," Sophie said. "And war is too high a price to pay."
Imogene's lips pressed together. "Do you think your countrywomen would agree?"
Sophie sucked in a breath. "I don't know. But I know it's not my place to make that choice for them. Neither is it Aristides."
"How can they choose if they do not know the truth?" Imogene pressed.
Sophie shook her head, anger flaring. "As I said, that is not my place to decide. And, I believe this has turned into exactly the kind of conversation that I came here to get away from. If you'll excuse me, I believe I would like to return to the house." How long could Cameron be? Goddess grant that he returned with the knowledge they needed. Because they had to leave now. If Imogene got Sophie back to the city and told the emperor about the navire, they would never get away.
Imogene's expression eased. "You're right. I apologize. I did not mean to press you. I was hoping we could get to know each other better. I have grown used to arguing about politics. It is a fault."
Sophie managed a smile, trying to bring her temper back under control. She had to keep Imogene on her side until Cameron returned. Until tonight or the next night when they could leave. "Well, if we are to know each other, then perhaps it is best if we know each other's faults." She held up a hand. "But I am growing wrinkled. So perhaps we should return regardless."
"Go ahead. Ring for Mari if you need help dressing," Imogene said, waving toward the stairs as they walked back into the house. "We'll have some tea and decide what to do after lunch when you come back down."
Sophie forced a smile. Tea. More time for small talk of the kind that had gone so badly in the bathing rooms? Please let Cameron and Jean-Paul return before then. Imogene had showed no signs of the tension that had descended between them in the bain-sel while they had dressed and walked back to the main house, but Sophie was less sanguine about what the other woman may be feeling in private.
Still, maybe with some time alone to wash the salt from her skin and dry her hair, she would come back down and the awkwardness between them would have faded, and she could pretend that everything was normal once more. "Thank you, tea would be perfect."
She made her way back to her suite. At least the bath in the bain-sel had loosened the aches in her muscles. Pity that the relaxation that it should have brought had been ruined by their argument.
It was tempting to just hide away once she'd closed the door behind her. But she suspected that Imogene would come looking for her if she didn't return, so she quickly filled the bath and rinsed the salt from her skin and hair. Wrapped in fine linen towels, she sat at the dressing table, gazing into the mirror. Her reflection offered no insights or answers, revealing only that her skin was heated, lending a flush to the gold and that her eyes were somewhat shadowed, showing the aftereffects of the late night. "You're no help," she muttered to herself and reached for one of the cut-glass jars of perfumed balm lining the table.
As she rubbed it into her skin, she thought about what Imogene had said. About Anglion. And the navire. About war.
She couldn't let it happen. They had to get away. She should talk to Elarus. Let the sanctii know of their plans, so she would be ready to help.
But before she could call Elarus, there was a knock at the door and Mari entered, bobbing a quick curtsy before informing Sophie that she had been sent to help her dress.
The sound of voices drifted up as Sophie descended the stairs half an hour later. Mari had combed out her hair and twisted it into a more elegant version of Sophie's usual braids before selecting a dress. Sophie hadn't needed her help and wasn't exactly sure why Imogene had sent the maid when Sophie hadn't asked for her, but there had been no easy way to send her away. So no conversation with Elarus.
She paused on the landing and listened. Male voices. Had Cameron and Jean-Paul returned early after all?
The prospect quickened her step. But it wasn't Cameron and Jean-Paul standing in the entry hall, but two men dressed in familiar black uniforms, their faces serious as they spoke with Imogene.
Who turned at the sound of Sophie stepping onto the marble tile.
"Lady Scardale," she said and the formality in her voice brought fear to Sophie's stomach.
"Your Grace," she said, keeping her voice calm. "Has something happened? Who are these men?"
Imogene grimaced briefly, the expression gone before Sophie was sure that she had seen it. Her face was carefully polite as she turned back to the two Imperial mages. They looked quite young to Sophie's eyes, one blond and one dark, both of them blank faced and not giving anything away. The dark-haired one stepped forward and nodded at Sophie.
"Lady Scardale, I am Lieutenant Vermier. We have brought a message from the emperor."
"A message for me?"
That earned her another nod and a small bow. The other mage reached into black leather satchel hanging from his shoulder and withdrew an envelope. Sophie didn't reach immediately to take it, and after several seconds passed, Imogene plucked it from his grasp. She turned the envelope over and Sophie caught a glimpse of the now-familiar emperor's seal. She fought the urge to put her hands behind her back and refuse to read the damned thing.
Because she was suddenly certain that whatever it contained, she had lost her chance to run. Aristides wouldn’t send soldiers for anything minor. Goddess, she wanted Cameron.
"Thank you, Lieutenant," Imogene said. "One of the servants will come and show you both to a room. You can eat and refresh yourselves while Lady Scardale reads this."
Lieutenant Vermier frowned, brown eyes displeased. "We were told the matter was urgent, Your Grace."
Imogene frowned back at him, her expression fa
r icier than his own. "I believe that's Major du Laq to you, Lieutenant. I appreciate your urgency, but my husband and Lord Scardale are currently out riding on the estate so no matter what this letter contains, no one will be doing anything until they have returned. I suggest you take the opportunity to rest." It was clearly an order, not a suggestion.
The lieutenant's frown didn't ease, but he nodded reluctantly and then saluted. "Yes, Major."
Imogene crossed the room and tugged the bell pull discretely placed at the side of a grand portrait. When a servant appeared, she gave a few quick orders and the two mages followed the man out of the room.
After they had left, Imogene turned back to Sophie, holding out the letter. "Do you want to read this here or go into one of the parlors?"
"I don't particularly want to read it at all," Sophie said, trying to sound halfway calm.
"It may be nothing," Imogene said.
"Does the emperor often send two Imperial mages to deliver a message when it's nothing?" she said, and the words came out more harshly than she had intended. "I'm sorry," she said immediately. "I didn't mean to be rude. I—"
"We'll go into the garden room," Imogene said smoothly. "I've already sent Ikarus for Cameron and Jean-Paul. Hopefully they haven't ventured far and will be able to return quickly. We may as well be comfortable while we find out whatever this holds," She waggled the letter. "Come along."
Sophie followed her, and in less time than she would have liked, was seated on a silk sofa in a beautiful room that smelled of flowers and sunshine. But it could have been a stone in the middle of a desert for the all the attention she had for her surroundings. Imogene had placed the letter on a small table in front of her, and it sat there, looking too innocuous for something that she knew for certain held news that was pulling her back to the snare of fate awaiting her in Lumia.
Eventually, not wanting Imogene to think she had lost her wits, she reached for it. The wax seal yielded to her fingers and she withdrew the heavy paper, heart pounding.
The letter when she unfolded it, was short and to the point. She had no idea if the heavy black script was Aristides’s own hand, but the bold signature undoubtedly was. Aristides. Nothing else required. The name was enough. He was the emperor. He was to be obeyed.
She held it out to Imogene, hoping her hand didn't shake. "The emperor requires us to return to the city," she said. "Immediately."
Imogene scanned the letter herself, her gaze moving rapidly down the page. "He gives no reason."
"I'm assuming that's because the reason concerns news he does not wish to convey in a note. Nothing good, I'm sure." She folded her clammy hands then, clasping them tightly as fear rasped its way from her stomach to dig claws into her throat.
Imogene nodded and put the letter back down on the table. "I could lie to you and tell you not to worry, but that would be disingenuous. But until you know exactly what the news is, I would suggest that you try not to let worry become anything greater. So. We return. I will get the servants to pack your things and ours."
"You're coming with us?"
"The lieutenant also passed on a request that Jean-Paul and I should accompany you."
"Then you already knew what this contained?" Sophie nodded at the letter where it lay. A simple piece of paper shouldn't be frightening, but she had to fight the urge to throw it into the nearest fireplace. Not that she could pretend that she'd never received it with Lieutenant Vermier and his companion waiting to escort them back to Lumia.
"I knew you were wanted back in the capital. I didn't know what else Aristides might care to tell you."
"Well, it seems as though he didn't care to tell either of us anything more," Sophie said. "Which I can only think means nothing good. Especially if he sent soldiers to make sure that we obey and return."
"He sent the soldiers with a chargeurre to make your return faster," Imogene said.
Chargeurre. She frowned. In Anglish, that would be something like war carriage. But like with chennei, she had no mental image to go with the definition. "What's a charguerre?"
"A type of fabrique used by the army. Faster than a normal carriage."
One of the army's conveyances. What did that mean? What could have happened to be so urgent? "And how many men come with it?" It was a pointless question. There was no way to flee now. That knowledge sat like a stone of ice in her stomach. But she couldn't help asking.
Imogene shook her head. "There are only two. Lieutenant Vermier is a Mage ingenier. He knows how to drive the charguerre. It is normal for a Mage ingenier to travel with a backup, that would be the sergeant. Do not imagine you are under any kind of arrest. Aristides is not known for his patience. He will be thinking of speed, not anything else. He knows you have a sanctii. If he was going to try and force you back, he'd have sent more than two men."
"Perhaps he was relying on your sanctii being able to control mine."
Imogene grimaced. "I doubt it. Please don't waste energy inventing dangers where none exist. Focus on what you can control. Which, for now, is packing and making sure we are ready to leave as soon as possible when our husbands return."
"They've been gone for several hours already, that could take a while."
"As to that." Imogene concentrated for a moment. "Ikarus says that they are already returning and are about an hour away. That doesn't leave us much time."
Sophie and Cameron's luggage wouldn't take that long to deal with, not with Imogene's army of servants to pack. But packing would be a distraction at least. Imogene was right. She could waste energy panicking now or try to keep calm until she knew what had happened. There was no doubt in her mind that something had.
If she knew more about scrying, perhaps she could try and see, but as it was, the thought of another uncontrolled vision taking her and showing her death and rot again made her stomach churn. Nor could she afford the weakness—or worse—that seemed to follow in a vision's wake.
No. Better to stay busy.
"All right," she said. "I'll return to our suite. If you send a maid, I'm sure we can be packed well inside an hour."
"I can send more than one," Imogene said. "It will take no time at all. I'll send someone with food. The men took luncheon with them so hopefully they will have eaten, but you should eat. Lieutenant Vermier will be eager to leave once Cameron and Jean-Paul return. Even with a chargeurre, it's still several hours journey to return to Lumia."
By the time Sophie left her suite again, close enough to an hour later, and followed the small parade of servants carrying her and Cameron's luggage back downstairs, she had managed to stomach some tea and sandwiches. The maids hadn't allowed her to assist them so, other than changing her dress to one more suitable for traveling, she'd had nothing to do but try to choke the food down and worry and regret that they hadn't been brave enough to try to get away sooner.
Logically she knew they hadn't had the knowledge they needed to pull it off. But her heart only saw the freedom that had slipped from her grasp.
Imogene stood in the entry hall talking with Barteau. Thankfully the two Imperial mages were nowhere to be seen.
"Ah, good," Imogene said, catching sight of Sophie. "Cameron and Jean-Paul have returned to the stables. They'll be with us shortly. Which means we can be underway soon." She turned back to Barteau. "Is everything ready?"
"Yes, Your Grace. We will send on whatever else is needed with the carriage. It will only be a few hours behind you."
"You're not taking your carriage?" Sophie asked.
"The chargeurre will hold us all. I'm hardly going to leave you to deal with the lieutenant or Aristides alone. Jean-Paul won't want to be left behind either. The charguerre can take all of us and is faster than any carriage." She tilted her head. "So we will endure the journey together."
"Endure?" What did that mean? Was Imogene worried about the conversation turning awkward again?
Imogene smiled. "Sorry, I am being overly dramatic. Charguerres are not my favored mode of transport. They are n
oisy and not usually built with luxury in mind. Comfortable to a degree, but nothing more than that," Imogene said. "The speed can take some getting used to when they really get going. The scenery whips by with no chance to take it in."
Sophie hadn't considered what it would be like to ride in a fabrique. She'd seen the fabrique carriages in the streets in Lumia, but there they had traveled at the same pace as the rest of the traffic.
"What does everyone else on the road do?" she asked.
"Gets out of the way," Imogene said with a shrug. "That's the benefit of the noise, plenty of warning. But the chargeurre is also designed to be able to navigate rougher terrain than a carriage. It can go around obstacles if needs be." She shrugged. "It is the lieutenant's problem to manage but don't worry. I've ridden in them before and never come to any harm." She frowned. "Do you know where Elarus is?"
"I haven't seen her," Sophie said, then flushed. "I didn't think. I should speak with her, let her know that we are returning to the city."
"Yes. She and Ikarus can return via their own means. Six humans will fit but adding two sanctii would make it a squeeze."
Noise came from behind them, and Imogene looked past Sophie's shoulder. "Good. Here comes Jean-Paul and your Cameron."
Sophie whirled to see Cameron striding toward her. He enveloped her in a hug, murmuring, "It will be all right, love," in her ear before he released her and said hello to Imogene.
"I'm sorry to cut your day short," Imogene said.
"I think the fault for that lies with Aristides, not you,” Cameron said, voice tight. "If what Ikarus told us was correct."
"Yes," Sophie said, trying to ignore the sick feeling in her stomach. "It was. We've been summoned. We have to go back."
Cameron took her hand and squeezed it quickly. A small comfort, but she had to let him go again soon enough as the level of activity turned into a whirlwind. Cameron and Jean-Paul disappeared to change and returned just as the lieutenant and his sergeant re-emerged, accompanied by the same servant who'd escorted them away earlier. After Imogene told him they were ready to leave, he led the way out of the house to the charguerre.
