Page 58 of Stranger's Choice
Chapter 17
“I’d like tosit next to Pianti tonight if you can manage it. If not, Trevl would be my second choice.”
Auraelie made a quiet sound of agreement. The type of unobtrusive acquiescence all servants mastered. She was walking a pace behind and to Sebin’s left, and the position, the role of attendant, chafed in a way it never had before.
She hated how Sebin treated her in public. He was polite. He was always polite. But politeness was cold, and she wanted heat from him. He had explained his reasoning. It made sense. The more he conformed to expectations, the more leeway he had to discuss radical topics with the courtiers without arousing suspicions.
Auraelie even agreed that they needed to maintain the charade that nothing had changed between them in public. She did not want to know what the Emperor might do if she gave him a reason to doubt her loyalties. Where others might see, she did her best to treat Sebin as nothing more than a duty she had been assigned.
But knowing why they had to be stiff and formal in public didn’t make her enjoy it. Not when she knew how it felt to sit in his embrace, to touch him skin to skin, to taste him. She was touch deprived after a life of isolation, but it wasn’t just the physical contact she craved. Auraelie loved making Sebin laugh, seeing his genuine smiles, just talking with him and knowing that she didn’t have to pretend.
But in public, she had to pretend. Watching Sebin flirt with Pianti only made it worse.
Auraelie considered not seating Sebin next to Pianti for supper. But she knew how important it was for him to gather information and allies among the courtiers. Heolin was finally promoting Sebin’s plans among the magical races, and Tjalik already had a group of human rebels among the lower classes in the city. She had to remind herself that Pianti was an excellent source of gossip.
If Sebin wanted to sit next to her, he had good reason.
Auraelie had no interest in watching, though. Once the courtiers’ supper ended, she hurried out of the room. Sometimes she stayed longer, but Sebin didn’t need her during the evening entertainments. He was always surrounded by others while she stood along the wall. Better for her to go eat her supper now. Then she wouldn’t miss any time with Sebin after he retired for the night.
The common room set aside for the Emperor’s Will was not fancy, but it was comfortable. Many of the Will had already eaten, their duties starting now that the courtiers had finished their meal. But there were still a few eating, and others lounging on cushions, chatting or just relaxing.
Auraelie found a cushion in front of a table that still had food on it and began to eat. She ate in silence, listening to the conversations around her. No one disturbed her. Even other members of the Will were wary of the Emperor’s Oracle.
Auraelie didn’t linger after she finished her meal. Before she made it out of the room, however, Lhashiki came in.
“Auraelie.” Her eyes brightened in genuine joy, and Auraelie knew she couldn’t simply nod and slip out to Sebin’s room.
“Lhashiki, how are you today?”
“You know how it is. There are so many things weighing on His Imperial Majesty, and I can only do so much to ease the burden.”
Not for the first time, Auraelie wondered how Lhashiki could be so devoted to the Emperor. When asked about herself, she answered about him, as though her life had no meaning except where it intersected his. This was the first time Auraelie had any inkling of why Lhashiki might suppress her own desires for somebody else, though.
Sebin’s happiness mattered to Auraelie. But her happiness mattered to him, too, and that was a crucial difference between her situation and Lhashiki’s.
“Everything is still going well with you and the prince?” Lhashiki continued. “I know he requested the Dance of the Seven Veils again. That is a good sign.”
Auraelie considered—and rejected—several responses in the blink of an eye. She didn’t want Lhashiki to think her too enamored of the prince. Nor did she want her to feel the need to interfere again. Auraelie opened her mouth to give a generic, yet positive response, when she realized that such an answer would be even worse than those she had rejected.
Lhashiki didn’t need to ask if things were going well. She surely knew that Auraelie now spent every night with Sebin. What she needed to ask was what had happened with Heolin the night Sebin requested the dance.
The simple question, outwardly focused on a different topic, was exactly how Sebin would charm the information out of someone. Auraelie tried to think like Sebin. If she didn’t mention Heolin, Lhashiki might wonder. But what could she safely say?
“The prince enjoys the dance, but he had misjudged his companion’s interest. I tried to offset the disappointment of his invitation not being received the way he had hoped once we were alone. I don’t have your grace, of course, but I think I succeeded.”
“I’m sure you did.” Lhashiki smiled, and there was a touch of satisfaction in the look. It was subdued enough that Auraelie wondered if she would have noticed it before she had started spending so much time with Sebin. She might have spent over nine years at court, but he was the one who understood it. Auraelie had never looked deeper than the surface.
The door to the common room opened, and a woman a handful of years younger than Auraelie barreled into the room. In her haste to get in, her arm brushed against Auraelie’s. The contact was brief, but it forced dozens of images of the future into her mind, nonetheless.
Auraelie tried to sort through the images, to understand everything she had seen between the now familiar gray spots. Dimly she heard Lhashiki chastising the woman.
“Mitana! That is no way for a member of the Emperor’s Will to conduct herself. What are you doing rushing around like that?”
“I’m sorry. So sorry, Lhashiki. But I am due to attend Daever, and I forgot my flute.”
“Get it then, but you must do His Imperial Majesty proud outside these doors, Mitana. Never forget you represent him.”
“Yes, Lhashiki. I’m sorry.”
