Page 36 of Stranger's Choice
She had to tell Sebin about Peroen. But what else should she say to nudge along the future she wanted and what would slam the door on it? How much could she trust him? Why had a potential future winked out of existence because she decided to tell him one thing?
It meant he would do what she wanted. That meant she should trust him. Right?
Auraelie knocked on his door that evening still wondering what to say. She wanted to know his plans before she divulged too much information.
Sebin opened the door, and she gave herself a moment to savor the sight of him. The rose-gold hair, the ever-present smile, the eyes that shifted from amusement to seriousness in a blink. She was glad he had returned, that she would spend her days at his side and not catering to the whims of the Emperor. They both stood staring at each other, and she felt the blush rising on her cheeks. She told herself that the warmth under her skin was nothing more than relief that he had turned out to be such a kind man.
Looking away, she stepped into the room and held up the kettle she had carried with her. One of the palace servants had handed her, saying the prince had requested it. “You wanted a kettle?”
Sebin’s head gave a tiny jerk, as if he had been lost in some thought and her words had startled him back to the real world. “Oh good, now we can have tea. Let’s get the water boiling.”
Before she knew what was happening, Sebin pulled the kettle from Auraelie’s fingers and carried it to the table that always held a selection of drinks and fruit. He poured water in the kettle, then placed it over the tiny brazier designed for heating food and drinks without turning the room sweltering. He lit the brazier and walked over to a corner where his pack from his travels sat.
Sebin pulled out two pouches and held them up. “Energizing or relaxing?”
“What?”
Sebin lifted the pouches, first the red one in his right hand, then the green in his left. “Do you want the energizing or relaxing blend?”
Auraelie wondered what the blue pouch, hanging half out of the prince’s pack, was for, but didn’t ask. “Relaxing.”
Sebin set the red pouch aside and spooned dried herbs into two cups from the green one. “I should have asked for strainers and mugs, as well as a kettle.” He paused. “Do you even have mugs or strainers? I have never seen anyone drink tea here, yet my request for herbal blends did not confuse Mewae.”
“Yes, we have those. At court, most consider tea an inferior drink. It is only drunk by the servants.”
“Well, I miss it and am going to enjoy the first cup I’ve had since coming to the city, even if I have to strain it through my teeth.”
“I’ll bring the other supplies tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”
Steam hissed out of the kettle, and Sebin extinguished the brazier and poured water into the cups. He carried them to the center of the room and the table between the cushions where he and Auraelie usually spent their evenings.
“How was your visit?” Auraelie asked, unhooking her veil, while Sebin sank onto his cushions.
He gave her a wry smile. “Successful in a way I hadn’t even considered and a failure as far as my intended goal.”
He didn’t elaborate and explain his goal, and Auraelie was reluctant to ask. If she asked and he refused to tell her . . . that would be harder to accept than him not telling her unprompted. She lifted the cup of steaming tea instead. “Was this your unintended success?”
He nodded, but there was something in his expression that made her think that the tea itself was not what he considered a success.
“How about you?” he asked a moment later. “Did you enjoy your break from following me around?”
Auraelie shook her head before she could overthink her answer. “A break, I might have enjoyed. The Emperor had me looking into the futures of a score of people instead. You’ll find, when you return to court tomorrow, that people are wary of the Emperor’s present mood. Marsone and Pianti,” she added, naming the two courtiers Sebin had spent the most time with before his trip, “were among those the Emperor sent me to.”
She didn’t mention Prince Peroen. Not yet.
“How does that work?”
Thinking about how to mention Peroen, Auraelie didn’t follow Sebin’s question. “What do you mean?”
“Everyone knows you are an oracle. Do they let you simply walk up and touch them? And isn’t that a big risk for you?”
She shrugged. “The risk is minimal, because no, I do not walk up and touch people. I deliver a glass of wine at the Emperor’s bidding. They cannot risk insulting the Emperor by refusing, and when the drink changes hands, we are close enough—connected through the goblet—that my power activates.”
She waited for Sebin to ask her what she had seen. She wondered what she would answer. The visions of Marsone and Pianti, she would share. She might even explain the strange blank spots in order to explain her certainty that he couldn’t approach Peroen. But she did not know if she could risk telling him about the image she had seen of herself, walking free in the forest near her home. What if telling him was the turning point that prevented such a future? What if not telling him was?
But Sebin didn’t ask about what she had seen. “Does the Emperor often send you among his courtiers that way? I can’t imagine futures change that much day-to-day. Unless you only see the short term?”
