to face Danilaesis, clutching a pillow in front of her for modesty. “How can you be sure he wasn’t watching through the girl’s eyes?”
Dan shrugged as he took a swallow of the brandy. Something in the fermenting of it was a magic all its own; the brandy did not burn until it was halfway down his throat, where it caught fire like a dragon’s breath. “Can’t live life fearing. I’m not afraid of the old buzzard. So answer my question: you going to put up with him talking above you at court?”
Celia stretched out a hand, and a dress lifted itself from the back of a chair and drifted over to her. With a glare, she convinced Dan to turn his back as she clothed herself.
“Should you be levitating things with the babe?” he asked.
“I’ve borne three children, and I, the babe’s Source ,will be fine with a bit of magic around it. Just don’t you go pulling any reckless tricks.”
Dan sketched a bow, chalice in hand. “I’m no fool, Your Highness.”
“Axterion is a nagging pest. He knows everything, or so he’d have us think. Every plan and plot we hatch, we’ve left a dozen holes that only he can see. He was always sharp tongued before, but it makes me wonder whether his newfound youth has restored his wits or merely emboldened him further.”
Danilaesis chuckled. “I never thought he could get crankier, to be honest. But now that he doesn’t have to worry about anyone overpowering him, he’s become a hog at a tea party.”
“Seems to run in your family,” Celia observed. She took her own chalice from the table and refilled it from a pitcher. Danilaesis lowered his brow, but kept silent as he took another swallow of his brandy. “What would you have me do?”
“Prepare for a war with Megrenn,” said Danilaesis. Celia sputtered grape-scented water back into her chalice. “Send me out on some mission to secure our border. Use me as you would an acknowledged warlock.”
“Axterion would never hear of it,” said Celia. She took an embroidered cloth from the bedside and wiped her chin. “He wants nothing but peace. He’s sent envoys to the Megrenn for a lasting treaty.”
“His idea, or yours?”
“His, but I approved it,” said Celia. “I have an empire. I don’t need a war in it.”
“Spoken like a queen, not an empress,” Danilaesis said. He threw back the last of the brandy in his chalice. It was more than a sensible gulp, and he gasped as the fire chased it down his throat. Setting the chalice on the side table, he walked over to stand before his empress. Though just a lad, she only came to his collarbone. She could have stepped back to keep space between them, but instead she craned her neck to keep her eyes on his. Even with the sting of brandy vapors in his nose, he smelled the perfumes from the oils Tia used on her, the talc from the tinted powder on her cheeks and eyelids. She trembled slightly. “An empress should always want more.”
Celia broke their gaze and turned her back. The dress was cut low, giving Danilaesis nearly the same view of her that he had seen on first arriving. “Why now of all times? You think you can force him to give you back your sword?” She sniffed. “What a price to pay for a blade.”
Danilaesis felt the heady rush from Emperor Sommick’s brandy. It made things seem simpler. He stepped behind Celia and put his hands on her shoulders. It took what little willpower the alcohol left him not to slip the dress loose from those shoulders. He whispered in her ear. “I get to be free of the Academy. You get to occupy that idle old brain of his with more important tasks than nipping at the hem of every decision you make from the throne. In the bargain, I’ll reclaim Megrenn for you and give you Ghelk as well.”
“Why do you think you can when Rashan failed?”
“Because I’m going to have the help of those Korrish tinkers, no matter what it takes.”
Chapter 6
“There’s only so much money you can pay a man. You just can’t buy more
Dan shrugged as he took a swallow of the brandy. Something in the fermenting of it was a magic all its own; the brandy did not burn until it was halfway down his throat, where it caught fire like a dragon’s breath. “Can’t live life fearing. I’m not afraid of the old buzzard. So answer my question: you going to put up with him talking above you at court?”
Celia stretched out a hand, and a dress lifted itself from the back of a chair and drifted over to her. With a glare, she convinced Dan to turn his back as she clothed herself.
“Should you be levitating things with the babe?” he asked.
“I’ve borne three children, and I, the babe’s Source ,will be fine with a bit of magic around it. Just don’t you go pulling any reckless tricks.”
Dan sketched a bow, chalice in hand. “I’m no fool, Your Highness.”
“Axterion is a nagging pest. He knows everything, or so he’d have us think. Every plan and plot we hatch, we’ve left a dozen holes that only he can see. He was always sharp tongued before, but it makes me wonder whether his newfound youth has restored his wits or merely emboldened him further.”
Danilaesis chuckled. “I never thought he could get crankier, to be honest. But now that he doesn’t have to worry about anyone overpowering him, he’s become a hog at a tea party.”
“Seems to run in your family,” Celia observed. She took her own chalice from the table and refilled it from a pitcher. Danilaesis lowered his brow, but kept silent as he took another swallow of his brandy. “What would you have me do?”
“Prepare for a war with Megrenn,” said Danilaesis. Celia sputtered grape-scented water back into her chalice. “Send me out on some mission to secure our border. Use me as you would an acknowledged warlock.”
“Axterion would never hear of it,” said Celia. She took an embroidered cloth from the bedside and wiped her chin. “He wants nothing but peace. He’s sent envoys to the Megrenn for a lasting treaty.”
“His idea, or yours?”
“His, but I approved it,” said Celia. “I have an empire. I don’t need a war in it.”
“Spoken like a queen, not an empress,” Danilaesis said. He threw back the last of the brandy in his chalice. It was more than a sensible gulp, and he gasped as the fire chased it down his throat. Setting the chalice on the side table, he walked over to stand before his empress. Though just a lad, she only came to his collarbone. She could have stepped back to keep space between them, but instead she craned her neck to keep her eyes on his. Even with the sting of brandy vapors in his nose, he smelled the perfumes from the oils Tia used on her, the talc from the tinted powder on her cheeks and eyelids. She trembled slightly. “An empress should always want more.”
Celia broke their gaze and turned her back. The dress was cut low, giving Danilaesis nearly the same view of her that he had seen on first arriving. “Why now of all times? You think you can force him to give you back your sword?” She sniffed. “What a price to pay for a blade.”
Danilaesis felt the heady rush from Emperor Sommick’s brandy. It made things seem simpler. He stepped behind Celia and put his hands on her shoulders. It took what little willpower the alcohol left him not to slip the dress loose from those shoulders. He whispered in her ear. “I get to be free of the Academy. You get to occupy that idle old brain of his with more important tasks than nipping at the hem of every decision you make from the throne. In the bargain, I’ll reclaim Megrenn for you and give you Ghelk as well.”
“Why do you think you can when Rashan failed?”
“Because I’m going to have the help of those Korrish tinkers, no matter what it takes.”
Chapter 6
“There’s only so much money you can pay a man. You just can’t buy more
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