Page 21 of Stranger's Choice
“Maybe it is because he is a stranger. He must not realize what an honor His Imperial Majesty has granted him.”
Auraelie wished she had held her tongue. She never should have told Lhashiki any of this. If she told the Emperor . . . Well, Auraelie didn’t know what the Emperor would do, but she didn’t want to find out. She didn’t want Lhashiki interfering, either. So she didn’t tell the other woman that she had explained exactly what was going on to the prince the first night. “You are right. He does not know our customs. I will explain them to him tomorrow.”
Lhashiki gave her a careful look, then clapped her hands together. “In that case, tonight we will make sure you are ready.”
Sebin noticed thewoman who always attended to the Emperor, Lhashiki, staring at him early in the evening. He never got a chance to ask Auraelie what might have caught her attention, though. There were always too many people around. He wasn’t entirely surprised, when the evening was almost over, to see Lhashiki gliding over to his side.
She didn’t address him, though. “Auraelie, His Imperial Majesty requires your presence.”
Auraelie acknowledged the woman with something more than a nod and less than a bow and walked away.
Sebin watched her go. Ever since the attack—no, ever since her veil had changed—she had remained with him in the evening instead of disappearing after supper. He knew why she entered his room every night. The way she still flinched away from him on occasion once they were alone in his outer chamber frustrated him. He wanted to tell her not to come in if she was so uncomfortable, but he didn’t. She had hidden his immunity from the Emperor to avoid being put in her present situation. He would not force her to reveal to the Emperor that he was not sleeping with her.
“She is lovely, is she not?” Lhashiki said, watching Auraelie as well.
Sebin pretended to take a sip of his wine—an undiluted red. He wasn’t sure how to respond. Lhashiki was one of the Emperor’s Will. Auraelie wanted people to believe he was having sex with her before she went to her own bed. But was he supposed to be casual about the whole thing, or possessive? Indifferent or besotted?
Not besotted. She only stayed an hour, after all.
“I am honored the Emperor thought me worthy of her company.”
“How are you enjoying the rest of what the imperial capital has to offer? Do you have a favorite experience since arriving?”
Sebin did not for a moment think the change in topic random or unintentional. He wondered where Lhashiki hoped to lead the conversation. He’d make it easy for her. “The city is beautiful. There are too many pleasures for me to name only one.”
“Is it very different from your homeland?”
“Very.”
Lhashiki tapped one delicate finger against her lips, her veil molding to their shape in response. “I suppose some of our customs have been a surprise to you. There are probably others you have yet to stumble across. I will give you a piece of advice, so that you do not miss out on any of the delights of Kalitalo.”
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness. What is your advice?”
“Ask Auraelie to dance for you. It is a pleasure you won’t want to miss.”
With that final comment, Lhashiki glided back to the Emperor’s side, but she didn’t remain long. She said something to Auraelie, and they both disappeared from the banquet hall.
Sebin watched them leave and fought the frown trying to plaster itself on his face. When it reached the hour he normally left the banquet hall, Auraelie still had not returned. Nor had Lhashiki. Sebin considered waiting longer, but decided against it. He headed into the hall. For all he knew, whatever the Emperor needed her for would take all night.
That thought almost had Sebin running back to the banquet hall and through the doorway Auraelie had disappeared into. No. No. That wasn’t what was going on. The Emperor wouldn’t have found a sensitive able to nullify power in a few weeks if he had never even heard of one before.
From everything Sebin had heard, sensitives were rare in Pynth. Almost all humans with magic carried a drop or two of another race in their blood, and so their magic manifested in different ways. Only a mage with pure human bloodlines remained a sensitive, and only sensitives could learn to nullify other magic. And it was a learned skill, not an intuitive ability.
If the Emperor found one . . . No. Lhashiki wouldn’t have pushed Sebin about Auraelie if she was being pulled to attend someone else.
The Emperor simply had a task for his oracle. That was all. Sebin remembered Auraelie convulsing on the floor, and his reassurance stopped sounding so comforting.
Sebin waited in the outer chamber of his suite. He wasn’t going to sleep easily that night, and Auraelie still might come to his room. It wasn’t that late.
He was sitting, staring at the door, when it suddenly burst open. Auraelie stalked into his room. She was wearing . . . wearing . . . well, frankly, it looked like she was wearing a handful of black scarves.
Four long strips of fabric were pinned in place under a gold collar. They crisscrossed her torso before slipping under a matching gold belt low on her waist and draping to the floor in a style only the most generous would call a skirt.
Sebin opened his mouth, not even sure what he wanted to say, but it didn’t matter. The look Auraelie directed at him as she marched past had him snapping his mouth closed. She went by without a word, and he saw that three more strips of cloth hung from the belt behind her. Her long hair did more to conceal her than the scarves. The fabric draping down from her waist twitched and swayed with her every step.
His eyes traced the curve of her waist and hips. He couldn’t help but glimpse her sleek legs, flashing in and out of the strips of cloth with every step.
Then she disappeared behind the beaded curtain.
