by S. J. West
“Correct.”
“I still don’t understand why you don’t have an image of him,” I say.
The empress tilts her head as she looks at me. “And I’m surprised your father hasn't shown you one already.”
This time it’s my turn to tilt my head in bewilderment.
“Why would my father have an image of him?”
“They’re best friends, dear heart,” the empress tells me, watching for my reaction. “Or at least they were at the time of your birth. Malcolm was the one who paid your dowry and the titles you and your father hold now.”
I take in a sharp breath at this unexpected news.
“I don’t understand,” I say, quickly recovering, “why haven’t I ever been told this before?”
The empress shrugs her thin shoulders. “I assumed your father would have told you at some point. But, I can see from the look on your face that he hasn’t. I was hoping you could tell me why Malcolm has always refused to come up here to pay his tribute in person.”
I shake my head. “I have no idea. I don’t know anything about him except that he’s one of the overlords.”
“Hmm,” the empress says, studying me closely as if she’s expecting me to slip up in a lie. “I suppose you really don’t know anything. Though, I have a feeling you might get your own answers when you return home.”
“My father probably had a good reason to keep this information from me,” I say in his defense. “But, yes, I will ask when I get home just because I don’t keep secrets from him. I’ll also let him know what you’ve told me.”
The empress smiles tight lipped at me as she brings up a map of North America.
“Now,” she says, “can you draw the borders of each overlord's territories for me on this map?”
The rest of my lesson with the empress goes by smoothly. I do wonder why my father never mentioned that Malcolm Devereaux, the most powerful down-world overlord, was, at one time at least, his best friend and our benefactor. I knew it took a lot of money for a down-worlder to buy even a single title of lord or ladyship in Cirrus. I couldn’t imagine what this Malcolm Devereaux had paid out to buy titles for both me and my father. Plus, he apparently paid a large enough dowry for me to become Auggie’s wife that not even the emperor himself could decline.
Who was he to my father? Why did he care what happened to me?
Just as my lesson with the empress ends, Auggie enters the room.
“Ahh, I thought I might find the two of you in here,” he says, knowing full well we would be in here at this time of day. “I thought I would escort Anna home if she’s through with her lesson.”
“Of course, my love,” the empress says to her only child. “The two of you should spend as much time together as possible in the coming week. You'll be man and wife soon.”
Auggie pulls out my chair for me and I stand, feeling relieved that he's come to rescue me from his mother.
“I couldn't agree with you more, mother. Which is why I will be spending the afternoon at her home, if that's all right with you?”
“Of course, Augustus. You are emperor after all. You don't need my permission anymore.”
“Old habits die hard I suppose,” Auggie says, holding out his arm for me to take. “Are you ready to go back home, my lady?”
I simply nod because I feel sure that if I voice my answer my eagerness to be as far away as possible from the empress will be transparent.
“I'll see you later this evening at the ball, Annalisse,” the empress says, just before Auggie teleports me to the veranda outside my chambers.
“I suppose you won't be spending the afternoon with me but with someone else,” I say knowingly to Auggie.
Auggie grins. “Yes, I was able to arrange a certain meeting with someone of special interest. I also wanted to tell you that I have a surprise for you.”
“What kind of surprise?” I ask, my interest piqued.
“Well, if I told you, then it wouldn't be a surprise anymore,” Auggie says indulgently. “It will arrive here before the ball, and that's all you're getting out of me, Lady Anna.”
Auggie holds his chin up stubbornly like a child refusing to give anything else away about his special secret.
“Then I'll wait patiently for my surprise,” I say, leaning up and kissing him on the cheek. “Say hello to Gladson for me,” I whisper, before turning to walk into my chambers.
Just before I pass through the curtains into my rooms, I turn to look at Auggie one last time. I notice a glimmer of light right behind him but can't quite make out what it is before he teleports away. The glimmer vanishes with him, and I simply chalk it up to being the effects of the sun's glare. Yet, it seemed to have a physical form. I shake my head, realizing my eyes must have been playing tricks on me and go seek out the person who can answer the many questions I have after my lesson with the empress.
I find my father in the training room practicing his sword fighting with the holographic sparring partner we nicknamed Rob. I stand to the side of the wooden platform and watch my papa as he maneuvers Rob into a defensive position with his swordplay until Rob ends up on the floor and says he yields. My father extends his hand down to Rob and helps him stand back up.
“Thank you, Rob,” my papa says before looking over at me with a mischievous smile, “but I think I have a flesh and blood opponent now. You may leave.”
“As you wish, Lord Andre,” Rob says before vanishing from sight.
My father walks over to me twirling his sword effortlessly in his hand.
“Up for a little practice?” My father asks with a taunting grin.
“Are you that anxious to be beat by me again?” I say, unable to suppress a smile of my own.
“Now is that any way to talk to your father, Lady Anna?” He asks jokingly. “Or are you afraid I might actually defeat you this time?”
I look down at my gown. “I’m not exactly dressed for a sparring match.”
“You never know what you might be wearing if you’re attacked unawares,” he says, turning serious. “You need to be prepared no matter what the occasion, Anna. What you’re wearing shouldn’t matter.”
“Fair enough,” I reply, stepping onto the platform. “Sword,” I say, holding out my hand and having one materialize in it. It’s only a hologram of one because real weapons aren’t allowed in Cirrus, but it mimics the weight and feel of a real sword adequately enough.
My father and I stand across from one another and bow before we take up our fighting stances. Swordplay with my father has been something we’ve done ever since I was able to hold a sword. It was an exercise we did to relieve stress and an activity we easily bonded over. My papa said I was a natural with a sword and that he had never seen anyone who could swing it so effortlessly. I suppose my unnatural strength gave me an advantage too.
When I was six years old, I learned my strength was greater than that of anyone else in Cirrus. I accidentally pushed one of the walls in my room down because I was throwing a temper tantrum over not being allowed to go down-world with my father. It scared me when it happened. My father explained to me that I wasn’t like other children, and that I had to be careful with the strength I possessed. At such an early age, I didn’t quite understand why I was so strong. I still don’t. It was just a fact of my life, and I had come to accept that I was different from other people. I just didn’t know why. I assumed my father would fill in the details at some point, but apparently that point simply hadn’t come yet.
My father and I cross swords, and I take the first swing.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me Malcolm Devereaux was the one who paid for our titles and my dowry?” I ask, catching my father off guard to the point that he almost drops his weapon.
He soon recovers and doubles his attack against me.
“It wasn’t something you needed to know,” he tells me, the ferocity of his attack forcing me to take a few steps back.
My father was strong, but he could never match my strength no matter
how hard he tried.
I twirl around him, making him falter and twist his torso in an awkward position to block my next strike.
“Did the empress tell you that today?” My father asks, knowing the information had to come from someone.
“Yes,” I say, ducking a swipe of his sword at my head. “She told me everything.”
“I seriously doubt that,” my father says knowingly. “Because even she doesn’t know the whole story.”
This brings me up short and the tip of my father’s holographic sword pierces my mid-gut.
“Ha! I finally won!” He declares triumphantly.
“I’m not sure that one counts,” I say, stepping up to him. If anyone had been watching, it would have looked like I was impaling myself further onto his blade.
“Who is this Malcolm Devereaux to you?” I ask. “Why would he care about my future? Does he plan to extort special favors from me once I’m on the throne?”
“Of course not,” my father says, sounding completely appalled I would even think of such a thing.
“Then why? Why would someone like him spend so much money to make sure I was placed in a position of power?”
“Because we both wanted to make sure you were safe,” my father says. “Swords disengage.”
Our swords disappear, and we just stand there facing one another.
I can tell by the set of my father’s jaw that he doesn’t want to talk about the particulars of his relationship with Overlord Devereaux, but I want answers.
“If he’s such a good friend of yours,” I say, “why hasn’t he ever visited us here? As far as I know, he’s never stepped foot in Cirrus.”
“He doesn’t like to involve himself in the politics up here. Honestly, I don’t blame him. If conditions were better, I would have rather raised you on the surface. But, life is easier up here, a fact you yourself reminded me of just this morning at breakfast.”
“Do you have an image of him?” I ask. “The empress doesn’t have one. She said he didn’t like having his image rendered.”
“No, I don’t have one of him.”
“Do you talk to him very often?”
“I talk to him once a year.”
“Why only once a year?”
“It’s the arrangement we made to commemorate the death of your mother.”
I pause in my interrogation because I know what that means.
“You talk on my birthday? He knew my mother? How?”
“Malcolm was friends with your mother’s family. He was devastated when Amalie passed away. He always felt responsible for her death.”
“Why would he feel guilt over that? She died in childbirth.”
My father shakes his head at me. “Can you just leave it at what I said? Why are you asking so many questions, Anna?”
“I just want to know more about him,” I say. “And I want to know why I had to hear about his connection to our family from the empress instead of you. You should have been the one to tell me, Papa, not her.”
My father nods. “I agree. You should have heard it from me, but I honestly didn’t think it would matter, and I’m not sure why the empress told you in the first place.”
“She doesn’t seem to know much about Overlord Devereaux either. Maybe she thought I could provide her with more information since you obviously have a close connection to him.”
“Well, the less she knows the better. Malcolm likes his privacy. As long as he pays the tribute she extorts from the overlords each year, I don’t see why she should care.”
“Extorts?” I ask, slightly confused by his use of the term. “You don’t think they should pay tribute to the royal family?”
“Not when it amounts to fifty percent of their earnings.”
“It’s that much?” I ask, having never known the taxes imposed on the down-worlders was so exorbitant. “How can they afford to give so much?”
“They don’t have a choice,” my father sighs. “Maybe when you and Auggie take the throne, you’ll be able to find a way to make their tributes more reasonable.”
“Then this Malcolm does want something in return for putting me on the throne.”
“No. He wants you safe, Anna,” my father says, and I know he’s telling the truth because I’ve always been able to tell when someone is lying to me. “He doesn’t want a thing from you.”
Ok, that was actually a small lie, but I don’t call my father out on it. I feel as though I’ve probably questioned him enough for one day.
However, I did learn one thing.
Overlord Devereaux did want something from me. I just didn’t know what.
CHAPTER threE
The Tribute Ball was usually the pinnacle event amongst the royals of Cirrus. Though, this year it would be eclipsed by the celebration ceremonies surrounding my marriage to Auggie. Nevertheless, everyone was looking forward to it. This year I would be allowed to attend my very first one. Most royals were able to attend by the age of eighteen, but the empress decided I shouldn’t go until I was twenty-one. Since my birthday was only a week away, she relented to my father’s plea that I be allowed to attend this year with him. He argued that if I was to oversee it the following year, I needed to bear witness for myself what the protocol of accepting tributes from the overlords was.
“I can tell you why she didn’t want you there,” Millie grunts as she brushes out my hair, preparing to braid it for an intricate bun she plans to style it into. “She knew you would be the most beautiful woman there instead of her.”
“Oh, Millie,” I say, rolling my eyes at her in the mirror of my vanity. “I seriously doubt the empress considers anyone her equal in the beauty department.”
“True enough,” Millie agrees with a hearty laugh. “That woman is about as vain as they come. Watch your back, my sweet. I have a feeling the empress doesn’t relish giving up her throne just yet.”
I feel my brow furrow. “Do you think she would do something to prevent my marriage to Auggie?”
“That, I don’t know,” Millie says with a worried frown of her own. “All I do know is that women like her don’t like being cast aside so easily. She’s been the belle of the ball for a long time now. I can’t say I blame her for not wanting to give it all away because of some silly law that says only men can rule Cirrus. If you want to know the truth, I’ve heard she’s basically been running things since she married the emperor to give him free reign to go play whenever he wanted.”
“Unfortunately, it was his playing that got him killed,” I say.
“Just be careful,” Millie advises. “Remember to watch your back when you’re around the empress. She didn’t get to where she is without being smart and cunning. Did you know she was once a down-worlder?”
“No,” I admit, “I had no idea.”
“Her father won a lottery to go off-world and apparently made enough money to buy her a title. From what I heard, she had her eyes set on the throne from the moment she got here.”
“Everyone says she and the emperor were actually one of the few royal couples who loved one another.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” Millie says. “But love can come because of different reasons. I think she loved the idea of being empress more than she actually loved the emperor. Being given that much power can make anyone imagine that they’re in love with the person who gave it to them.”
“I’ve never felt threatened by her,” I say. “I don’t think she would harm me.”
“She never thought you would be taking her place this soon either. I seriously doubt that woman thought she would have to give up her power for at least another twenty years or more.”
“I didn’t either if you want to know the truth. If I could, I would let her keep it.”
“No, my sweet. It’s time for a change around here, and I think you and Auggie are just the ones to do it,” Millie says resolutely.
“Don’t let anyone else hear you say that,” I say in a low voice, “or you’ll be brought up on heresy charges, Milli
e.”
“Hmmph, I’d like to see them try.”
Vivian and Eliza walk into my bedroom then and my conversation with Millie is put to an end by their presence.
Vivian has a dress I've never seen before draped across her outstretched arms.
“This just came from the emperor,” Vivian says, obviously in awe of the extravagant gift the emperor has sent me.
“Hold it up and let me see,” I tell her.
Vivian holds up the dark purple dress against her torso and twirls around like she’s the one who will be attending the ball in the gown. I see a look of envy cross her face just before she meets my eyes in the mirror. I have always had a feeling Vivian thought herself too good to just be a lady's servant, but that's the way her life has turned out and there isn't much that can be done about it.
When I view the beauty of the gown in the reflection of my mirror, I see why she’s in awe of it.
Not only is the gown made of the finest silk, but it’s decorated with a myriad of small diamonds making it sparkle in the light of the room. It's sure to draw a lot of attention at the ball. If the diamonds don’t get me noticed, the plunging neckline most definitely will.
“What was Auggie thinking sending me a dress like that to wear?” I ask, turning in my chair to look at the gown fully.
“I’m not sure, my lady,” Eliza says walking over to me, “but this message was sent with the dress.”
Eliza hands me a small neural patch. I take the translucent square and place it behind my right ear. Auggie appears to me in way of a neurally-transmitted hologram that only I can see and hear.
“Since we’ll be having five men who you haven’t met yet coming to the ball,” Auggie says, hands clasped behind his back and looking extremely excited about his gift, “I thought this dress might make you stand out to them. Not that you wouldn’t have stood out anyway with your beauty, but they would literally have to be blind not to notice you in this dress tonight. Good luck!”