Emery smiled back and looked for a means to enter the room.
She sat up and propped two pillows behind her. "Just crawl on the bed," she told him, folding her legs and slapping the covers. He looked awkward but took her offer and crawled to sit at the foot of the mattress, which sank with his weight.
"Are you scared?" she inquired, and realized too late that it was not the kind of question a woman should ask of a man.
"Are you?" he parried, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. He was barefoot and his toes shone pale in the moonlight.
"Yes," she said. "I'm not even going to be on the line and I'm terrified."
"Would you think me a miserable coward if I said I was frightened too?"
"I would think you a fool if you weren't."
He sighed and let his head rest on his knees.
"What is it?"
"If I tell you something do you promise to keep it a secret?" he asked, keeping his head down.
"I am an ambassador. I do that sort of thing for a living."
"I've never fought in a battle before. I've never killed a man."
"I suspect that is the case for nearly everyone fighting tomorrow," she said, hoping he would assume she included herself in that statement. She could not bear to tell him the truth. "I don't think most of these people have ever used a sword."
"Some have." He lifted his head. "Adam the Wheeler fought with Ethelred's army against the Ghazel when Lord Rufus won his fame. Renkin Pool and Forrest the silversmith's son also fought. That's why I have them as leaders in the line. The thing is, everyone is looking to me like I am a great war hero, but I don't know if I will stand and fight or run like a coward. I might faint dead away at the first sight of blood."
Arista reached out, taking his hand in hers. "If there is one thing I am certain of," she looked directly in his eyes, "it is that you will stand and fight bravely. I honestly don't think you could do anything else. It just seems to be the way you're made. I think that is what everyone sees in you. Why they look up to you-and I do, too."
Emery bowed his head. "Thank you, that was very kind."
"I wasn't being kind, just honest." Feeling suddenly awkward, she released his hand and asked him, "How is your back?"
"It still hurts," he said, raising his arm to test it. "But I'll be able to swing a sword. I really should let you get to sleep." He scrambled off the bed.
"It was nice that you came," she told him and meant it.
He paused. "I will only have one regret tomorrow."
"And what is that?"
"That I am not noble."
She gave him a curious look.
"If I were even a lowly baron and survived the battle, I would ride to Melengar and ask your brother for your hand. I would pester him until he either locked me up or surrendered you. I know that is improper. I know you must have dukes and princes vying for your affections, but I would try just the same. I would fight them for you. I would do anything…if only."
Arista felt her face flush and fought an urge to cover it with her hands. "You know, a common man whose father died in the service of his king, who was so bold as to take Ratibor and Aquesta, could find himself knighted for such heroics. As ambassador, I would point out to my brother that such an act would do well for our relationship with Rhenydd."
Emery's eyes brightened. They had never looked so vibrant or so deep. There was a joy on his face. He took a step back toward the bed, paused, then slowly withdrew.
"Well, then," Emery said at last, "I shall need my sleep if I am to be knighted."
"You shall indeed, Sir Emery."
"My lady," he said, and attempted a sweeping bow but halted partway with a wince and a gritting of his teeth. "Good night."
After he left her room, Arista discovered her heart was pounding and her palms moist. How shameful. In a matter of hours, men would die because of her. By noon, she could be hanging from a post, yet she was flushed with excitement because a man showed an interest in her. How horribly childish…how infantile…how selfish…and how wonderful. No one had ever looked at her the way he just had. She remembered how his hand felt and the rustle of his toes on her bed covers-what awful timing she had.
She lay in bed and prayed to Maribor that all would be well. They needed a miracle, and immediately she thought of Hadrian and Royce. Isn't that what Alric always called them…his miracle workers? Everything would be all right.
Chapter 15
The Speech
Amilia sat biting her thumbnail, or what little was left of it. "Well?" she asked Nimbus. "What do you think? She seems stiff to me."
"Stiff is good," the thin man replied. "People of high station are known to be reserved and inflexible. It lends an air of strength to her. It's her chin that bothers me. The board in her corset fixed her back, but her chin-it keeps drooping. She needs to keep her head up. We should put a high collar on her dress, something stiff."
"A little late for that now," Amilia replied irritated. "The ceremony is in less than an hour."
"A lot can be done in that time, your ladyship," he assured her.
Amilia still found it awkward, even embarrassing to be referred to as ladyship. Nimbus, who always followed proper protocol, insisted on referring to her this way. His mannerisms rubbed off on the other members of the castle staff. Maids and pages, who only months earlier laughed and made fun of Amilia, took to bowing and curtsying. Even Ibis Thinly began addressing Amilia as her ladyship. It was flattering, but also fleeting. Amilia was only a noble in name-a title she could lose just as easily as it was won-and that is exactly what would happen in less than an hour.
"Alright, wait outside," she ordered. "I'll hand you the dress to take to the seamstress. Your eminence, can I please have the gown?"
Modina raised her arms as if in a trance and two handmaidens immediately went to work undoing the numerous buttons and hooks.
Amilia's stomach churned. She had done everything possible in the time allotted. Modina had been surprisingly cooperative and easily memorized and repeated the speech Saldur provided. It was short and easy to remember. Modina's role was remarkably simple. She would step onto the balcony, repeat the words, and withdraw. It would only be a few minutes, yet Amilia was certain disaster would follow.
Despite all the preparations, Modina simply was not ready. The empress had only recently showed signs of lucidity and managed to follow directions, but no more than that. In many ways, she reminded Amilia of a dog. Trained to sit and stay, a pup would do as it was told when the master was around, but how many could maintain their composure when left on their own? A squirrel passing by would break their discipline and off they would go. Amilia was not permitted on the balcony, and if anything unexpected happened there was no telling how the empress would react.
Amilia took the elaborate gown to Nimbus. "Make it quick. I don't want to be here with an empress clad only in her undergarments when the bell strikes."
"I will run like the wind, milady," he said with a forced smile.
"What are you doing out here?" Regent Saldur asked. Nimbus made a hasty bow then ran off with the empress' gown. The regent was lavishly dressed for the occasion, which made him even more intimidating than usual. "Why aren't you in with the empress? There is less than an hour before the presentation."
"Yes, your grace, but there are some last minute prep-"
Saldur took her angrily by the arm and dragged her inside the staging room. Modina was wrapped in a robe and the two handmaidens fussed with her hair. They both stopped abruptly and curtsied.
Saldur took no notice. "Must I waste my time impressing on you the importance of this day?" he said while roughly releasing her. "Outside this palace, all of Aquesta is gathering, as well as dignitaries from all over Warric and even ambassadors from as far away as Trent and Calis. It is paramount that they see a strong, competent empress. Has she learned the speech?"
"Yes, your grace," Amilia replied with bowed head.
Saldur examined
the empress in her disheveled robe and unfinished hair. He scowled and whirled on Amilia. "If you ruin this-if she falters, I will hold you personally responsible. A single word from me and you'll never be seen again. Given your background, I won't even have to create an excuse. No one will question your disappearance. No one will even notice you're gone. Fail me, Amilia, and I will see you deeply regret it."
He left, slamming the door behind him and leaving Amilia barely able to breathe.
"Your ladyship?" the maid Anna addressed her.
"What is it?" she asked, weakly.
"It's her shoe, my lady, the heel has come loose."
What else could go wrong?
On any ordinary day, nothing like this would happen, but today, because her life depended on it, disasters followed one upon another. "Get it to the cobbler at once and tell him if it isn't fixed in twenty minutes I'll-I'll-"
"I will tell him to hurry, my lady." Anna ran from the room, shoe in hand.
Amilia began to pace. The room was only twenty-feet long, causing her to turn frequently and making her dizzy, but she did it anyway. Her body was reacting unconsciously while her mind flew over every aspect of the ceremony.
What if she leaps off the balcony?
The thought hit her like a slap. As absurd as it seemed, it was possible. The empress was not of sound mind. With the noise and confusion of thousands of excited subjects, Modina could become overwhelmed and simply snap. The balcony was not terribly high, only thirty-feet or so, it might not kill her if she landed well. Amilia, on the other hand, would not survive the fall.
Sweat broke out on her brow as her pacing quickened.
It was too late to put up a higher rail.
Perhaps a net at the bottom? No, that won't help. It was not the injury; it was the spectacle.
A rope? She could tie a length around Modina's waist and hold it from behind. That way if she made any forward movement she could stop her.
Nimbus returned, timidly peeking into the room. "What is it, milady?" he asked, seeing her expression.
"Hmm? Oh, everything. I need a rope and a shoe-but never mind that. What about the dress?"
"The seamstress is working as fast as she can. Unfortunately, I don't think there will be time for a test dressing."
"What if it doesn't fit? What if it chokes her so she can't even speak?"
"We must think positively, milady."
"That's easy for you to say, your life isn't dangling by a thread-perhaps literally."
"But surely, your ladyship, isn't in fear of such a thing merely from a dress alteration? We are civilized people after all."
"I'm not certain what civilization you're from Nimbus, but this one can be harsh to those who fail."
Amilia looked at Modina sitting quietly, oblivious to the importance of the speech she was about to give. They would do nothing to her. She was the empress and the whole world knew it. If she disappeared there would be an inquiry and the people would demand justice for the loss of their god-queen. Even people as well placed as Saldur could hang for such a crime.
"Shall I bring the headdress?" Nimbus asked.
"Yes, please. Anna fetched it from the milliners this morning and likely left it in the empress' bedroom."
"And how about I bring a bite for you to eat, milady? You haven't had anything all day."
"I can't eat."
"As you wish. I will be back as soon as I can."
Amilia went to the window. From this vantage point she could just see the east gate, where scores of people poured through. Men, women, and children of all classes entered the outer portcullis. The gathering throng emitted a low murmur like some gigantic beast growling just out of sight. There was a knock at the door and in stepped the seamstress with the gown in her arms as if it were a newborn baby.
"That was fast," Amilia said.
"Forgive me, your ladyship, it's not quite done, but the royal tutor just stopped by and said I should finish up here where I can size it to her eminence's neck. It's not how things are done, you see. It's not right to make the great lady sit and wait on me like some dress dummy. Still, the tutor said if I didn't do as he said he-" She paused and lowered her voice to a whisper. "He said he'd have me horse whipped."
Amilia put a hand over her mouth to hide a smile. "He was not serious about the whipping, I can assure you, but he was quite right, this is too important to worry about inconveniencing her eminence. Get to work."
They dressed her once more in the gown and the seamstress worked feverishly, stitching in the rest of the collar. Amilia had begun to resume her pacing when there was another knock on the door. With the seamstress and maids occupied, Amilia opened it herself and was startled to find the Earl of Chadwick.
"Good evening, Lady Amilia," he said, bowing graciously. "I was hoping for a word with her eminence prior to the commencement."
"This is not a good time, sir," she said. Amilia could hardly believe she was saying "no" to a noble lord. "The empress is indisposed at the moment. Please understand."
"Of course, my apologies. Perhaps I could have a word with you then?"
"Me? Ah, well-yes, of course." Amilia stepped outside, closing the door behind her.
Amilia expected the earl would make his issue known right then, but instead he began to walk down the corridor and it took a moment for her to realize he expected her to follow.
"The empress is well I trust?"
"Yes, my lord," she said, glancing back at the door to the dressing room that was getting farther away.
"I am pleased to hear that," the earl said, then with sudden alarm added, "How rude of me. How are you feeling, my lady?"
"I am as well as can be expected, sir."
If Amilia was not so consumed with thoughts of the empress, she would have found it funny that an earl was embarrassed by not immediately inquiring about her own health.
"And it is beautiful weather for the festivities today, is it not?"
"Yes, sir, it is," she forced her voice to remain calm.
Nimbus, Anna, and the cobbler all appeared and rushed down the hall. Nimbus paused briefly, giving her a worried look before entering the dressing room.
"Allow me to be blunt," the earl said.
"Please do, sir." Amilia's anxiety neared the breaking point.
"Everyone knows you are the closest to the empress. She confides to no one but you. Can you-have you-does the empress ever speak of me?"
Amilia raised her eyebrows in surprise. Under ordinary circumstances, the earl's hesitancy could have seemed quaint and even charming, but at that moment, she prayed he would just get it out and be done with it.
"Please, I know I am being terribly forward, but I am a forward man. I would like to know if she has ever thought of me, and if so, is it to her favor?"
"My lord, I can honestly say she has never once mentioned you to me."
The earl paused to consider this.
"I'm not sure how I should interpret that. I am certain she sees so many suitors. Can you do me a favor, my lady?"
"If it is in my power, sir."
"Could you speak to her about gracing me with a dance this evening at the ball after the banquet? I would be incredibly grateful."
"Her eminence won't be attending the banquet, sir. She never dines in public."
"Never?"
"I am afraid not, sir."
"I see."
The earl paused in thought as Amilia rapidly drummed the tips of her fingers together. "If you please, sir, I do need to be seeing about the empress."
"Of course, forgive me for taking up your valuable time. Still if you should perhaps mention me to her eminence and let her know I would very much like to visit with her."
"I will, your lordship. Now, if you will excuse me."
Amilia hurried back and found that the seamstress had finished the collar. It was tall and did indeed keep her chin up, although it looked horribly uncomfortable. Modina, of course, didn't seem to care. The cobbler, however, was still work
ing on her shoe.
"What's going on here?" she asked.
"The new heel he put on was taller than the other," Nimbus told her. "He tried to resize, but in his haste he overcompensated and now it is shorter."
Amilia turned to Anna, "How long do we have?"
"About fifteen minutes," she replied gloomily.
"What about the headdress? I don't see it."
"It wasn't in the hall, or the bedroom, milady."
Anna's face drained of color. "Oh, dear Maribor forgive me. I forgot all about it!"
"You forgot? Nimbus!"
"Yes, milady?"
"Run to the milliner and fetch the headdress, and when I say run, I mean sprint do you hear me?"
"At once, milady, but I don't know where the milliner shop is."
"Get a page to escort you."
"The pages are all busy with the ceremony."
"I don't care! Grab one at sword point if necessary. Find one who knows the way and tell him it is by order of the empress and don't let anyone stop you, now move!"
"Anna!" Amilia shouted.
"Yes, my lady." The maid was trembling in tears. "I am so sorry, my lady, truly I am."
"We don't have time for apologies or tears. Go to the empress' bedroom and fetch her day shoes. She'll have to wear them instead. Do it now!"
Amilia slammed the door behind them and gave it a solid kick in frustration. She leaned her forehead against the oak as she concentrated on calming down. The gown would cover the shoes. No one would know the difference. The headdress was another matter. They worked on it for weeks and the regents would notice its absence. The milliner's shop was out in the city proper, and she had left it to Anna to pick it up. She could really only blame herself. She should have asked about it earlier and was furious at her incompetence. She kicked the door once more then turned around and slumped to the floor, her gown ballooning about her.
The ceremony began in minutes but there was still time. Modina's speech was last and Amilia was certain she would have at least another twenty, perhaps even thirty, minutes while the others addressed the crowd. Across from her, Modina sat stiff and straight in her royal gown of white and gold, her long neck held high by the new collar. There was something different about Modina she was watching Amilia with interest. She was actually studying her.
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