The Lily and the Crown
Page 28
Bors couldn’t understand it himself, but he supposed it was none of his business.
“To the peace,” the Empress said, and they raised their glasses. There would be many more toasts at the banquet tonight, given by officials in varying degrees of intoxicated pomposity, but Bors doubted any of them would be as heartfelt as this one shared by two exhausted, triumphant people. It was not unpleasant to drink with this Empress. Nor, if he were to be honest, was it unpleasant to look at her. She was a superb example of her species, even if she was past her prime. Well, in all fairness, so was Bors. He wondered if she thought he had aged well, too. He believed he had; his scales were as supple and iridescent as they had been in his youth, and he hoped she appreciated them, as he appreciated her own beauty.
“Are you anticipating the banquet?” she asked, with something like laughter in her eyes.
“I’m anticipating sleeping well afterwards,” Bors said, and the Empress smiled. She had a disconcerting smile—there was something about it that made him profoundly uncomfortable, even when it seemed genuinely meant.
At that moment, the door chimed, and the servant hurried out. He returned in a moment, bowing respectfully. “Your Majesty,” he said, “Lady Ariana wonders if you have a free moment.”
The Empress scowled and rubbed at her forehead. “I knew she’d forget I was in a meeting.”.
“Our business is concluded until tonight, Your Majesty,” Bors said, deciding to make a gracious exit. “Do not let me detain you further.”
“No, stay,” she said, and waved her hand. “Send her in,” she said to the servant, and then added to Bors, “I would like you to meet my consort.”
“Oh,” Bors said, settling back into his chair with renewed interest. Rumors circulated within and beyond Mír’s empire about the Imperial Consort—Lady Ariana, the little gardener who’d kept the all-powerful Empress enthralled for almost a decade now. Some said she was mad, or simple, or childlike; others said she was kind, and decent, and refreshingly guileless. Nobody, however, said that she was a natural choice for an imperial consort.
Within the moment, Bors saw why. A young woman hurried into the room without seeming to notice him. Her hair was disheveled, and she had…was that mud all over the hem of her skirt?
“Hey,” Lady Ariana said breathlessly, and bent down to kiss the Empress on the cheek. For her part, the Empress looked resigned, but not angry. Perhaps even a little amused. “Are you busy?” She glanced over and saw Bors. “Oh!” She straightened up and brushed her skirt down, appearing self-conscious. “Oh, gosh—you told me about this meeting, didn’t you? I’m sorry. Is this the Kazir ambassador?” Before the Empress could reply, Lady Ariana extended her hand to Bors with a big smile. She had dirt underneath her fingernails. “Hi. I’m Ari.”
“Ambassador Bors,” the Empress said dryly, “permit me to introduce you to Her Excellency, the Imperial Consort and Senior Royal Botanist.” Her eyes danced with laughter. This was obviously not the first time she had made such an introduction.
Gingerly, Bors took Lady Ariana’s hand. “A pleasure, Your Excellency,” he said, trying to keep the incredulity out of his voice. He’d heard that the surest way to start a war was to insult Lady Ariana in front of the Empress, and he refused to think that the last six months of negotiations had been for nothing.
“Oh, thanks,” Lady Ariana said, and turned back to the Empress without further ado, her eyes shining. “The fuel cells work! Mustopher illis synthesizes so much faster. I just sent it off to the lab. We should know by tomorrow!”
“Wonderful.” The Empress patted Lady Ariana on the hip. “I suppose this means you’ll be making a non-appearance at the banquet?”
“Oh gosh, I forgot,” Lady Ariana said, looking acutely distressed. “I’m going to be so—Do you want me to come?”
“If you could be there for the first round of toasts before your headache develops,” the Empress said, “I’d appreciate it.”
“First round of toasts. Okay. Eighth hour, right?”
“Seventh.”
“Oh. Seventh. Right. Got it.” Lady Ariana’s brow furrowed in concentration as she obviously tried to commit this to memory.
“Don’t forget this time,” the Empress said.
“I won’t. I’m so sorry about last time. It’s just that I have so much to do before I go to the conference next week.” Lady Ariana winced. “I’ll make sure somebody reminds me by sixth hour.”
“See that you do,” the Empress said, and sent a meaningful look to the servant by the door. He clearly understood that he would be the one to remind Lady Ariana or suffer the royal displeasure, and nodded.
“I will. I’ll see you at the banquet!” Lady Ariana said, and bent down to peck the Empress on the lips. The Empress patted her hip again, and Ariana flew out the door, just barely remembering to give Bors a nod as she left. He stared after her, feeling rather as if he’d just staggered out of a brief, bewildering whirlwind.
When he turned around, the Empress was watching him with hooded eyes.
“Thank you for introducing me,” Bors said, unaccountably nervous. “I… What is this conference Her Excellency is attending?”
“Some botany thing,” the Empress said, volunteering no further information as to place or time.
Bors was not surprised. He had heard that the Imperial Consort did not travel a great deal, though whether from her own inclination or the Empress’s protectiveness, he did not know. He did know that his apparent curiosity about Lady Ariana had brought out something fierce in the Empress’s eyes, and he abruptly remembered that, less than a decade ago, this refined and elegant monarch had been the most bloodthirsty pirate in the known galaxy.
“She’s pregnant,” the Empress added.
Bors, long practiced in diplomacy, needed less than a second to collect his wits and say, “My sincerest congratulations.”
“Thank you.” The Empress tapped her fingertips on her desk. “She is nearly three months along. But you can’t really see it yet.”
Indeed, you couldn’t. Human reproduction was still something of a mystery to Bors. “The birth of the heir will be great cause for celebration,” he said delicately, already planning to alert his masters to this bit of news as soon as he returned to his suite. Everyone had wondered what would happen to Mír’s empire after her death. Apparently, she’d decided on a plan.
“It will,” the Empress said, confirming his suspicions with the merest lift of her eyebrows. “It’s time for the news to get out. You might as well hear it from the source.” She gave him a little smile. She was not exactly the image of impending, radiant motherhood, but for a moment, her gaze had softened again. “We do what we must.”
“Er…yes,” Bors said, and cleared his throat. “I have six offspring myself. They’re blessings.” And would have their own clutches soon enough.
The Empress smiled blandly, her boredom obvious. However much she would care for her own brood, Bors could not envision a time when she would enjoy making idle talk about children. “I’m sure they are.”
She rose to her feet, and he scrambled to do the same. “Don’t let me detain you further, Ambassador. Please enjoy your rest before our little gathering tonight.”
“Indeed, I will, Your Majesty.” Bors bowed. “And you as well.”
“I’d better,” the Empress said with a sigh. “It will be a late evening. And I promised Ariana I’d look at these fuel cells once she got them working. I wager you anything that I’ll spend tomorrow morning on my knees in the dirt.”
Bors tried his very best to imagine this. And failed. Instead, he nodded and smiled as respectfully as he could without laughing, and then bowed as he took his leave.
An odd pair, he thought to himself as he returned to his quarters. An odd pair; an odd marriage; an odd arrangement altogether, really, even to the producing of the heir. But it appeared to be working. Everything about the Empire appeared to be working. Certainly, Bors hoped his people never had to contend
with Mír’s power.
Although if they did, and if they lost, perhaps she wouldn’t be as monstrous as she’d been painted. She’d been all gentleness with Lady Ariana. She was not, Bors thought, a woman without pity. Without mercy. Surely?
Well…perhaps. But really, Bors thought as his door closed behind him, he would prefer not to find out for himself.
###
About Roslyn Sinclair
Roslyn Sinclair is a writer and teacher currently living in Georgia. Though a Southern girl, she’s found writing inspiration everywhere from Kansas City to Beijing. First thing in the morning, before she goes off to prep lesson plans, you can find her writing her books in longhand at her kitchen table. When she’s not writing or teaching, she’s probably reading, taking long walks, or going for a drive on the twisty mountain roads near her home.
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The Lily and the Crown
© 2017 by Roslyn Sinclair
ISBN (mobi): 978-3-95533-943-2
ISBN (epub): 978-3-95533-944-9
ISBN (pdf): 978-3-95533-945-6
Also available as paperback.
Published by Ylva Publishing, legal entity of Ylva Verlag, e.Kfr.
Ylva Verlag, e.Kfr.
Owner: Astrid Ohletz
Am Kirschgarten 2
65830 Kriftel
Germany
www.ylva-publishing.com
First edition: 2017
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Credits
Edited by Lee Winter and Amanda Jean
Proofread by Paulette Callen
Print Cover by Adam Lloyd
Print Layout by eB Format