by Terah Edun
It wouldn’t be the easiest thing in the world to drug a dragon, but Ciardis assumed it was possible until proven otherwise.
How to wake her, if she should wake her, was another issue entirely.
When she looked back up and saw Maradian watching her with his creepy fixated smile, she shuddered. Her mother either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Lillian was busy whispering into the Emperor’s ear with excited flutters of her hands.
“More wedding plans,” Sebastian said bitterly, walking over from where he had been standing at the head of Raisa’s bed.
Ciardis noticed Thanar silently take his place when he came back.
She raised an eyebrow at the prince heir.
Sebastian gave her a thin-lipped smile. “She’s defenseless as she is.”
Ciardis nodded. “Yes, she is. I wish there was a way to help her.”
Sebastian gave her a pointed look. “With all these soldiers about, about all we can do is make sure someone doesn’t accidentally cut her throat while no one is looking.”
Ciardis was unsettled at the thought, but she didn’t object.
She couldn’t help but think of her brother dying a painful death at the hand of Seven, the Emperor’s agent, in that dank, rotten cell.
She had abandoned him without looking back.
Or at least that was the way she remembered it.
She wouldn’t do the same to the Ambassador from Sahalia. There was no telling what Maradian would do to her, or countenance having done to her without someone watching over her.
“You’re right,” Ciardis said with a grimace. “And only the gods know what my mother would do in such a situation.”
“Depending on if she’s crying Lillian or enigmatic Lilian,” said Sebastian dryly, “I think she’d either back herself into a corner or sit close by and watch with interest. Kind of depends on how she feels at the moment.”
Ciardis almost let out of a laugh. It wouldn’t have quite been merry, but these were strange times in any case.
Before she could respond, she heard her mother say in a chipper voice, “You two? I say you two lovebirds?”
Ciardis winced and didn’t turn around. Sebastian’s eyes, however, were staring with unflinching intensity at his uncle and her mother.
“Is she talking to us?” Ciardis whispered, already knowing the answer.
“I’m afraid so,” Sebastian said solemnly.
Ciardis pasted an insincere smile on her face as she turned around “Yes, Mother?” she asked.
“A garden ceremony or on the beach?” Lillian asked delicately.
Ciardis stared at her. “A what?”
Lillian repeated her question. Ciardis felt her mind overload for a minute; she actually couldn’t understand what it was her mother was asking.
Sebastian leaned over and whispered into her ear. “I think she wants to know where you want the wedding held.”
Ciardis blinked, then blinked again. “I—”
She was flummoxed. Ciardis felt a rising tide of anger, mixed with despair, mixed oddly with disbelief, overtake her.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t the prince heir who saved her from a flailing attempt to respond this time, it was the Emperor himself.
In a voice that said he was now enjoying himself entirely too much, Maradian said, “Well, normally such an ostentatious affair would be held in the largest of the open-air audience chambers in the palace.”
Lillian fluttered her hands. “Oh yes, yes, of course.”
Ciardis felt a headache coming on. She really missed her sarcastic hellcat of a mother right now. And she never thought she’d think that, not in a hundred years.
“But,” the Emperor said in a commanding voice, “since large sections of the palace are now indisposed…”
And whose fault is that? Ciardis thought furiously. Mostly his.
“—it would be better to have the ceremony in a more natural setting,” the Emperor continued.
“And it would send a great message of unity to the people,” her mother piped up, with stars in her eyes. “That nobles and commoners have the same appreciation for the aesthetics and importance of the land in Algardis.”
Ciardis glanced at Sebastian out of the corner of her eye. He looked ready to hurl.
She stepped up this time and answered before he could. “That sounds fine, then.”
If her voice was only weakly enthusiastic, Lillian didn’t seem to mind.
As her mother stared at her, Ciardis nodded firmly, putting some more emphasis behind her words. She even smiled.
Lillian beamed at her. “So what do you think? A ceremony within the land or by the sea?”
That smile froze on her face. Ciardis realized that this conversation might never end.
Sometime later, Ciardis was wondering if they were ever going to leave the room where a comatose dragon lay, several dozen soldiers lounged around in boredom, and even the Emperor himself was beginning to take on a look of irritation. Lillian wouldn’t let the arrangements go. She kept going on and on about ceremonies and necessary preparations.
Ciardis was ready to scream.
To prevent that she licked her lips and opened her mouth. “Perhaps we can move on now?”
The Emperor rapidly stood up from where he had elected to take a seat on an open bed and walked away from Lillian Weathervane mid-sentence, a clearly relieved expression on his face.
Solemnly Ciardis said, “We’ve agreed to accelerate the wedding, but that is the only thing that has been shaken on.”
The Emperor murmured, “And I’m already regretting that decision.”
Lillian, for once, didn’t look stricken.
Instead, her face took on the proud air of a mother who had schemed and finagled her way into what she wanted, which meant the other Lillian was back.
Ciardis steadfastly ignored her. At the moment, neither factored much into her plans. She couldn’t very well rely on someone who had both a split personality problem and was loyal to their mortal enemy.
With a roll of his shoulders and a bored sigh, Maradian said, “What more do you need, dear child? I am to give you the wedding of your dreams…”
“Her mother’s dreams,” Thanar interjected wryly.
“Thank you,” Ciardis said, so softly that the words were a whisper on her lips. She was sure only Thanar had caught them.
She felt his presence in her mind. It was enough. A secure haven in a storm front standing at the corner of Raisa’s bed behind her.
“Your point is taken,” the Emperor said, his voice chill. “As I was saying, I also give you the necessary power to bring together your ragtag band of nobles and commoners. You may declare emergency sanctions and enforce whatever alliances you need to get this done. What more could a potential older relative give to someone new to the family?”
He said it in a tone that implied that he was bestowing a blessed dowry on her. Her eyes flashed in irony at the very thought. He was in fact saddling her and his nephew with what should be his problem, his concern, and instead was merely an initiative Maradian desperately wanted to get off his plate.
But he knew and she knew that if the god was as real as she said it was, this wasn’t an assignment that he could just foist off on the nearest duke looking to curry political favor and call it a day.
Nope, that wouldn’t do at all.
So he roped in his only living blood relative, along with the powerful companion that Maradian saw as at his beck and call. With the power of those two, and a daemoni prince as extra, plus the threat of evisceration of their remaining comrades as well as themselves hanging over their heads, they would accomplish what needed to be done while he went on his merry way.
And if Ciardis Weathervane had been a good little girl, that’s just how it would have been done.
But she wasn’t.
She was a troublesome firebrand, and she relished in that bit of spirit at this very moment.
She might not have been able to bring to the Emperor of Algardis to his knee
s, preferably headless in the process, but she knew how to make sure he still felt the fury of her fire.
In her own way, that was.
“That isn’t enough,” Ciardis said fiercely. “I won’t even go over why, because you know what you’re asking…no, demanding of us. The only reason I do this willingly in public is because I have no choice in private. I will not see more of my people’s blood shed at your whims. If you, Your Imperial Majesty, get a servant bound to do your will, I get certain protections in place.”
She almost ended her defiant note with ‘it’s only fair,’ but she realized how childish that would have sounded a moment before she uttered the words.
The Emperor twitched as he said in an oily tone, “Your people, Ciardis Weathervane?”
“Yes,” she said with a lift of her chin.
“The last time I checked,” the Emperor said softly, “I rule this empire. The last time I checked, these personal guards answer to my name. The last time I checked, the will and law of the land was mine to determine.”
By the time he finished, his voice had edged up into rolling thunder.
25
It reminded her a bit of a certain prince heir: slow to take offense, but once done, he cloaked himself in the majesty of his rule just like Sebastian did, she thought with some amusement.
And that was why Maradian’s strident tone didn’t scare her. She only had to think of the prince heir to move into a state of mind that pushed her past fear, into careful thought.
She realized that she was finally getting to Maradian Athanos Algardis. In some small way, like an ant picking up a boulder four times its size, Ciardis could feel Maradian being edged into her domain. It wasn’t enough to beat him at his own game, she didn’t think, but it was enough to steer him in a direction more favorable to her own ends.
And she would take that. Because she was here to play the long game. Even if that meant trading blows with a master manipulator.
So, carefully, she said, “That is correct. But to do what you want, I need some of that will. I need to be strong. Both before the courts and beyond it. If I ask a citizen army to stand by my side, I need to know that they will not hesitate. Before a girl that has married into the prince heir’s family, they might. For a woman with a rule ordained by the Emperor himself, they would not dare.”
Her tone was fierce and pure because she was right. They would not. The only thing commoners feared more than the gods was the ire of the Emperor they served. They believed in the legitimacy of his reign because he had been born to rule. No matter who she married, Ciardis Weathervane had not.
She wasn’t even sure she would need a citizen’s army, but if Maradian did and decreed her with the powers to create one and have that rule enforced instantly, then all the more power to her.
Apparently the same thing occurred to the Emperor, because he said succinctly and quickly, “No.”
Ciardis frowned. “But, Your Imperial Majesty—”
“Ciardis Weathervane,” the Emperor said, “I appreciate your fervor for dominance, but your persuasion tactics are somewhat lacking. I have no interest in giving you the power or the will to craft an army against me.”
If anything, the Emperor sounded almost back to being amused. Like he was eyeing the efforts of a kitten trying to hunt its first mouse and finding its skills-in-training quite the diversion.
Internally, Ciardis smiled. Because that was precisely how she wanted him to view her. Little. Small. Not worth his anger. Not until she grew strong enough to overtake him. But face to face, she still had to play her part, so she let her face fall and edge into doubt.
The Emperor’s expression immediately grew bored. He waved his hand at her. “If there’s nothing else, then I shall be leaving.”
Ciardis raised her eyes frantically. She didn’t want him to go just yet. She needed another way to get into Maradian’s good graces.
Fortunately, her mother was even more hungry for power than she was, and legendary in her skills of persuasion as well.
Lillian had no idea what Ciardis’s goal was, but she stepped into the conversation with all the suave of a woman who had read her daughter’s cards and was ready to call the Emperor’s bluff.
“Hear her out, Majesty,” Lillian said in a noble tone. “My daughter may not be fully versed in the mechanics of manipulation, but she is quite good at winning supporters to her side. People she can use to your advantage.”
“To her advantage, you mean,” the Emperor said snippily as he turned to head to the door. But he didn’t leave just yet.
Ciardis felt hope rise a bit in her chest.
Lillian continued on, undaunted. “Your people are loyal to you, Emperor, not to some snippet of a girl they don’t even know. She is not trying to win their loyalty; merely to enforce your will and your rule as she navigates some intense upcoming situations which will require all the imperial backing that she can get.”
The Emperor seemed in a state of perpetual motion. He was still, but Ciardis could see his fingers twitching as fast as he was thinking. Whatever decision he came to would be the final one, she was sure.
Lillian eased in again with soft words. “Emperor, if she is to be your blade, your right hand, you must be willing to give her an edge. Otherwise the people will thwart her. Make no mistake: if they see a small girl with no true political power behind her, they will buck off her orders like an unbroken stallion does to a rider.”
Ciardis winced. Her mother seemed to be laying it on a bit thick. Still, it just might work.
The Emperor eyed Lillian with irritation, but he seemed to reluctantly agree. “Fair enough. However, she will be yoked by the plan we discussed or not at all.”
Lillian smiled and dipped into a thankful curtsey.
Plan? What plan? Ciardis thought, horrified. She couldn’t ask the Emperor, and Lillian wouldn’t even look her in the eye. Not that her mother was scared to; she just didn’t seem to care. She had secured more power for her family, and by extension, herself. Her work was done.
As Ciardis looked at Maradian uneasily, she worked up the nerve to voice her concerns.
But the Emperor’s stiff, unapproachable back made it clear he still expected silence. So she waited for him to say something before she did.
Maradian raised a hand a moment later and snapped his fingers at the female commander.
She smoothly jumped to attention and dug an object out of the packet at her waist.
The Emperor looked at the object, then Ciardis saw the barest hint of a smile on the edge of his face.
He turned back around to the room and looked at Ciardis Weathervane. “All right, make your case, child, and this time…don’t be so foolish about your requests.”
Ciardis blinked. She guessed that was step one in lies and manipulation. Stirring uneasily, Ciardis cleared her throat and prepared to make her stand once more.
Before she could speak, Maradian held up a hand. “If I may?”
Flustered, she bowed a bit and said, “Sire?”
Maradian grunted. “Here’s a tip. Come into the game of politics as if you own it and everyone else already. You have nothing to lose, so act like it. You approach me like a whipped dog because I am your Emperor. Instead, see me as a peer you must outwit, or you will continue to face enemies. One of them won’t give you the courtesy of a second chance as I am.”
Ciardis stalled. Some advice, she thought. He could have me whipped for insolence, or my mother killed, or the ambassador smothered.
“I can see your thoughts running frantically through your head like frightened mice,” the Emperor complained, placing an irritated finger on his brow.
Then he snapped his fingers. “Show some backbone.”
You’re not helping, you evil man, Ciardis wanted to snap at him. She didn’t.
Then the Emperor hesitated, looked once more at his commander, and motioned for her to come forward.
“Malys, choose your brightest man. The most cunning. The one with an i
mpeccable sword arm and a keen mind,” the Emperor commanded.
The woman didn’t even blink. She looked to her right, directly at a man who stood about a bed’s length away from Thanar’s left shoulder. Close enough to charge in case of a fight, but far enough away to bring a sword into play if necessary.
“Caren, come forward,” she commanded.
The blond-haired man with brown eyes abandoned his watch post over the daemoni prince and marched to his commander’s side.
He kneeled, as was proper, and bowed his head in obedience to the Emperor.
Ciardis wondered if she should have done Maradian any such courtesy, but she figured that since she had originally come to kill him, it wasn’t really necessary. Besides, he’s had me at sword point practically all day as well, she thought dryly. So we’re even.
“This is your best?” the Emperor said.
“Yes, sire,” the commander said with a sharp salute.
“Very well,” Maradian said in a bored tone as he looked down at Caren. “You, Caren, are now assigned to Ciardis Weathervane. By blood and debt to the imperial family, you will guard her with your life and your breath. If you come before me and her heart does not still beat, I will rip your heart out and place it in her cavity instead. Stand.”
To his credit, the imperial guardsman did not quake.
That seemed to please the Emperor.
“Step by your charge’s side,” the Emperor said.
Caren did as ordered.
“He’s yours now, Ciardis Weathervane,” Maradian said. “Your protector and under your will.”
Ciardis licked her lips. “That’s not necessary, Your Majesty.”
“Oh, but I insist,” Maradian purred. “It is my will.”
Behind her, Sebastian shifted uneasily, and Thanar sent a warning to her head. Careful, Golden Eyes.
Ciardis didn’t have any choice. She accepted the gift of the guardsman who stood beside her like an obedient dog.
“Now, Ciardis,” the Emperor said indulgently, “I’ve told you how to be forceful. But I’ve yet to tell you the consequences of showing weakness.”
Ciardis frowned. “No, Your Imperial Majesty,” seemed the safest answer to give.
