Five Poisoned Apples

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Five Poisoned Apples Page 20

by Skye Hoffert et al.


  “Show us,” they said, doubting yet hopeful.

  Rising carefully lest she disturb the work already put into her appearance, Livna crossed the room and knelt by her chest. Lifting the lid, she reached inside and pulled forth the rainbow of beautiful embroidery, her only keepsake of her mother. Her hand trembled as she held the glorious sash up to the light.

  The handmaids gasped, their argument forgotten in pure delight.

  “It’s beautiful!”

  “Perfect!”

  “Finer than the one we planned to use!”

  Livna sighed in relief while they wrapped and tied it at her waist. For the first time in several hours, a smile curved her lips. Now she felt she could face the emperor, for she could draw strength from the assurance of her mother’s love regardless of what happened tonight.

  At last the handmaids led her from her room to join the throng of ladies entering the banquet hall. Before they reached the entrance, the senior handmaid ushered her toward a small alcove.

  “If you please, Your Highness, before I rejoined you for your preparations, the king asked me to bring you here before your entrance so I could let him know you are ready.”

  “He did?” Livna stared into the narrow room with its gold and maroon drapery. A low bench stood in the center of the otherwise empty chamber. “Why?” Livna turned, but the servant had already scurried away.

  Stepping from the bright and noisy hall into this quieter space, Livna cautiously approached the bench but decided not to sit. Surely the woman would return soon, and Livna’s respite would be over. In moments she would rejoin the crowd of strangers, and she needed to be fully aware and prepared to act.

  Loud whispers sounded from beyond the tall, columned threshold. Livna froze then took a cautious step forward when a familiar voice sounded from the entrance. “Livna.”

  She lifted wide eyes to meet her father’s gaze as he entered the room. Unable to speak, she bowed her head in silent respect.

  Ehud looked her up and down. When Livna dared peek up at him through her lashes, the expression on his face was unlike any she’d ever seen. “You look—” He cleared his throat. “You look just like your mother.”

  Livna blinked, determined not to ruin the moment with tears.

  With a little shake of his head as though to clear it, the king smiled. “Here.” He pulled a decorative comb from the folds of his robe. Several rubies sparkled in the torchlight, forming the shape of an apple, a sweet delicacy cultivated by the people of the Benham Tribe. Father tucked the ornament into Livna’s hair behind her ear. “Beautiful,” he whispered.

  Livna lifted her fingers to reverently touch the fine comb, shock coursing through her veins. She could not fathom what had changed, why he suddenly seemed to care. Worse, she could not begin to guess when this dream would end.

  Before she could gather her thoughts to voice any logical question, the king stepped away. “I must rejoin the emperor, and you should be in with the other maidens.” He cast an approving nod in her direction then turned on his heel and swept back into the hall.

  Unsure what to think but basking in his warm approval, Livna slowly followed in his wake among the final few women straggling into the banquet room. Torches blazed everywhere, and long curtains had been swept from open windows to increase any natural light. The long tables which typically lined the space had been carried away, leaving the polished wooden floor open for the mass of finely garbed women. Hues of scarlet, emerald, and sapphire shimmered before her: the rich robes of the assembled women. Some wore simple garments of a single daring color while others dripped heavy jewels and intricate embroidery. The scents of myrrh, roses, lilies, and other perfumes wafted to Livna’s nose and battled for prominence, much like the gathered women themselves, seeking the emperor’s attention.

  Livna’s gaze swept from the crowd to the focus of their attention. Emperor Vandrus reclined upon the king’s dais at the center of the only table still in the room. He sat with one leg tucked beneath him on a pile of cushions and the other casually stretched. His light hair shone like burnished copper, and confidence seemed to pour from him like water from a basin. Though his pose was restful, Livna sensed he was not a man to be trifled with.

  At his side sat Nava, her robes an arresting crimson and her face fresh and young, without wrinkle or blemish. Her gaze remained locked on the young emperor even as Father climbed the final steps up the dais to the low table. The emperor nodded to him but did not rise.

  “Emperor Vandrus,” King Ehud proclaimed in a loud voice, “the maidens of the United Tribes are ready.”

  Livna swallowed and glanced about for a familiar face, but most of the women around her were strangers. She doubted Nava would greet the emperor in a crowd of beautiful women without her Dwarven close at hand for any necessary enhancements to her appearance. Sure enough, Livna spotted Oren behind her, but she could not catch his tired eye. Of course, he was not looking for her, she reminded herself. He did not expect her to be among those presented.

  A shiver ran down Livna’s spine, and she briefly wished that she even now sat in her quiet place in the shadows, observing all without being observed by any. Now she stood at the center of the drama, on display with those around her. She could only hope she would not embarrass Father.

  The emperor nodded and rose from his cushions beside Nava. Without a word, he moved away from the table, stepping into the crowd. All the beautiful young ladies fluttered and smiled, some of them quite brazenly.

  But Livna slipped to the wall at the back of the room. She knew she should try to focus on this important moment, but instead her thoughts slipped to that quiet room outside this banquet hall, and to the lovely comb now caught in her hair. A bemused smile formed on her lips. After all these years, Father had actually seen her. He had not looked past her or ignored her efforts to please him. He simply saw her there and spoke to her, even gave her a gift. Livna fingered the comb at her ear, scarcely aware of anything else happening around her.

  “That’s a lovely piece, and it seems to make you happy.”

  A bolt of pure surprise shot through her heart. Livna blinked and looked up to find Emperor Vandrus standing before her.

  Chapter Six

  Livna stared, completely thunderstruck. The emperor! How had he made his way through the throng so quickly? He was shorter than she expected, scarcely taller than Livna, but she stood several inches taller than most women. His skin was a peachy-white, though no lighter than her own skin, which rarely saw sunlight. The torchlight shone off his red-gold hair, and his blue eyes seemed to twinkle.

  And he was most certainly smiling at her.

  “May I?” Vandrus gestured to the comb. Livna held her breath, carefully pulled the tines from her hair, and set the ornament in his outstretched hand. His fingertips brushed across the brilliant rubies. “Lovely,” he said, but his gaze was on her face, not on the comb.

  Livna blushed, and the emperor’s eyes shone even brighter. “Will you walk with me?” he asked as he placed the precious comb back in her palm.

  Livna felt all the eyes of the court fixed upon her—sensing the surprise of the other ladies and the resentment from some. She shouldn’t be here. She hadn’t intended to gain this kind of attention. But . . .

  This was what Father wanted.

  Livna nodded. With a smile, Emperor Vandrus led her past the crowd and the table toward an exit. She still felt all those eyes upon her, but now three gazes broke through her daze, making themselves more pointedly felt. Father proudly watched with an air of determination, and Oren wore a shocked expression which surely mirrored Livna’s own astonishment.

  But Nava’s glare cut through all the others. Livna dared not glance her stepmother’s way, but she did not have to. She felt the spear-like hatred dart at her from across the room.

  Her heart thudded uncomfortably all the way to the door, and it was a relief to leave the banquet hall behind and step into extensive palace gardens under a twilit sky. Livna breathed
deeply of the evening air, glad to be away from the banquet and the crowd.

  The emperor walked confidently, his tunic brushing his knees and revealing his sandaled calves. Livna glanced down, then quickly looked away at the surrounding garden instead. Men from the United Tribes did not wear their robes so short.

  Vandrus led them confidently through the garden as though he knew its layout already, and now moved briskly to the nearest bench beneath a pear tree. He motioned for Livna to sit. “Here we are . . . may I ask your name?”

  “I am Livna.”

  He nodded once and, flinging his cape behind him, sat beside her. “And I am sure you know I am Emperor Vandrus. There. We have been introduced. Now tell me why you were smiling.” He turned to fully face Livna. “I find I have too little to smile about in my life, and most of the smiles I encounter at these presentations are either false or they disguise scheming intents or unbridled pride. But your smile was sincere. And not meant for me, which draws me to it all the more. So, tell me, Livna, why did you smile?”

  Livna blushed again and tried to turn away from his intense gaze, but his hand shot out and lifted her chin firmly until her eyes met his again.

  “Please don’t be shy. I’m sure this is not altogether comfortable for you. You seem to be a modest maiden despite your beauty, and I daresay all this attention unsettles you. Trust me when I tell you I am no more comfortable at this presentation than you are.”

  “But,” Livna whispered, “didn’t you command this contest?”

  Vandrus grimaced ruefully. “Yes, because I needed to. Contrary to popular opinion, an emperor cannot do whatever he wishes.”

  “So, you do not wish to marry?”

  “I am not opposed to marriage, but I would have liked to have more time to get to know a bride before choosing her. This, however, is not what I wished to speak about. Tell me what had you smiling?”

  Unable to look away from his gaze, Livna forced herself to speak. She began quietly, but her voice strengthened as the emperor kept his entire focus on her. “I was smiling because I was happy. This comb is from my father, and before this presentation he has paid me little attention. I do not fault him, of course, for his work keeps him busy.”

  “What is his occupation?”

  “King.”

  One of his red brows lifted high. “King Ehud is your father?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you didn’t find that important to tell me when I asked your name?” A partial grin hovered on his lips. “Most princesses would be loath to leave off their title and pedigree, especially when introduced to an emperor.”

  “I am sorry. I did not think it important.”

  A line formed between his brows, and he leaned closer as if trying to read a parchment instead of her face. “I think you speak the truth. How refreshing to find someone so unconcerned with status. Most women who seek to be empress are more ambitious.”

  “Oh, I do not seek . . . that is . . .” What could she say? She truly did not wish to be empress of anything. She had desired to attend the presentation simply to take part in the important doings of the palace—to grasp some form of control over her own life.

  But that all seemed foolish to say out loud. After all, the purpose of this evening was to help find the emperor a bride, which she had known when she made her request.

  Vandrus studied her closely, reading his own meaning in her silence. “It is your father then?” he asked. “Did he push you into this?”

  Livna cringed, unwilling to paint Father in the role of power-hungry schemer. After all, she had requested it in the first place.

  “Never mind. I see you are a loyal daughter yet do not wish to lie.” Vandrus stretched one of his legs before her and leaned his weight on his palm behind her. “To be honest, I did not have the best relationship with my own father. Emperor Terminus may have been a mighty conqueror, but he was too concerned with his own legacy to exert any effort toward getting to know his son.”

  Pain laced his voice. On impulse, Livna reached out and patted his hand where it rested beside her. It was the kind of gesture she would ordinarily use only for Oren, but it felt natural in the moment.

  Vandrus’s eyes drifted to the spot, and she pulled her hand quickly back to her lap. That grin of his returned. She had not expected an emperor to smile so much. She had always imagined someone . . . sterner, like Father.

  “I suppose you know how it is,” Vandrus continued. “My father also made no effort to keep his line of succession secure. He left many generals with a hunger for power. And although he conquered many nations, his control over them was not as strong as he wished. He tried to rule with an iron fist, but I think a softer touch may now be required.” The emperor’s finger brushed along Livna’s hand, and she caught her breath. “You truly are not used to attention, are you Livna?”

  “Oh no!”

  “Strange. A beautiful girl like you?”

  A warm flush crept over her cheeks. “Not me,” she said quickly. “Stepmother is called the loveliest in court.”

  “Queen Nava? She is beautiful, but her looks and behavior have an artificiality to them. I believe I saw several Dwarven among her attendants.”

  “Yes.” The tentative pleasure that had begun to blossom in Livna’s spirit faded as she recalled Oren’s words, his concern for the number of his people enslaved.

  “Lo! I see from your expression this is not a topic that pleases you. Do you dislike your stepmother?”

  Livna dropped her gaze quickly, twisting the end of her mother’s sash with nervous fingers. “I don’t dislike my stepmother. But I wish I could help the Dwarven. Or at least see them freed.”

  “Ah, so you do have some aspirations.”

  “I-I—”

  Vandrus’s finger on her lips silenced her stuttering, and she swallowed slowly. “Never fear. I do not think you ambitious,” he said, and dropped both his hands to catch hers with a firm grip. “I know you don’t know me, and it seems you did not come to this presentation with plans to become my empress. Neither can I promise that I will choose you. But I would like to ask you to return with me to the capital.”

  Livna gulped for breath and felt strangely trapped in her fine robes. Her mother’s sash suddenly clung far too tightly about her waist as her mind struggled to grasp the emperor’s meaning. Men did not pay her heed or take her hands or . . . invite her to leave her home and follow them to another land. Panic warred with a strange delight in her chest as she marveled at his words. She wondered whether she understood him correctly or had perhaps missed some teasing in his tone.

  Studying his serious face, Livna searched for some trace of laughter. “Your Imperial Majesty—”

  “Please, call me Vandrus. Let there be no titles between us.”

  “Vandrus.” She tested the feel of his name in her mouth and smiled slightly, thoughts and emotions tumbling through her in a confused jumble. “I’m not sure how to reply. You wish for me to travel with you to the capital?”

  “Yes, I am taking one maiden from each presentation to the capital where I can spend more time getting to know each of you so I can be sure in my choice of bride.”

  “That sounds like a wise plan.” Livna glanced at his hands still wrapped around hers. She was unaccustomed to a man touching her or sitting so near. Although his favor was a great honor, traitorous fear rather than excitement wrapped around her like an old familiar robe. Could she leave her home and follow him? Her chest ached at the thought of never seeing Oren again. But perhaps she could ask the emperor—Vandrus—to pay Nava for his freedom. He could return to the Dwarvene Mountains and never again be forced to pour his strength into serving anyone.

  Vandrus tilted his head slightly, trying to catch her eye, his expression earnest. “While I cannot promise you will be my bride, I can guarantee you will be cared for. I plan to find influential husbands from among my advisers for every maiden who comes with me, so their nations will have a connection to the capital. Will you be that c
onnection for the United Tribes?” His fingers tightened, squeezing hers. “Will you come with me, Livna?”

  A hint of vulnerability laced his words. Livna tilted her head to observe his face and felt some of her fear melt at his earnest expression. Instead of the emperor’s powerful, commanding presence, Livna perceived the unsure boy beneath the exterior as he placed a part of his future in her hands. Though she scarcely knew him, she felt he was a man she could trust to keep his word.

  Livna recalled the look Father had given her as they left the banquet hall. This is what Father wanted. While she knew she was not the Fairest One her people hoped for, she still might be able to secure peace for her people if only she said . . .

  “Yes. Yes, Vandrus, I will go with you.”

  With a final squeeze, he released her fingers and stood. “Very good. It will be pleasant to have your smile near, and perhaps one day it will be meant for me. Come, we should return.”

  With his strong hand at her elbow, Livna found herself sailing through the garden and back to where the crowd waited inside. She kept her eyes on the floor as he drew her to the center where everyone in the room could see them.

  “People of the United Tribes, I have made my decision.” He twined his fingers through Livna’s and raised their arms. “I have chosen Princess Livna of Carpatta.”

  Applause echoed in the hall, some eager, some begrudging, but Livna could not concentrate on it or on the emperor beside her. Instead, her head turned to glance behind to where Oren stood in attendance to the queen. The light of a nearby torch raked shadows across his face, twisting his familiar features into harsh lines, but it was his gaze that arrested her, quickening her pulse. Something overwhelming shone from his silver eyes, an emotion she could not comprehend.

  Shaking herself back to the present, Livna noticed another stare, and this one left her blood as chilled as a desert night. No amount of illusion could disguise the hatred burning across Queen Nava’s face.

 

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