Page 10 of Oracle's Reign
Peroen tasted his wine, unsurprised to find a particularly strong vintage that he’d normally avoid, and accepted the inevitable. “Sire, allow me to introduce the oracles to you.” He gestured to the other end of the table, knowing Yslie would not want to be first. “Next to you is Odela of Tjon.”
“I am honored to dine with you tonight, Your Imperial Majesty.”
Peroen finished the introductions as quickly as possible. Because Yslie had been last, the Emperor’s attention was still on her when silence fell again, and apparently that was incentive enough to break through Triese’s awe.
“The palace is more impressive than I ever imagined, Your Imperial Majesty,” Triese announced in her sweet, high voice that was just this side of being saccharine. She looked over at Peroen. “Perhaps you can show me more of it later,dyela.”
The Emperor snorted. “I will have one of my Will show you the splendors of the palace. Peroen only knows the way between his room and his studio, hardly the parts of the palace that would interest you.”
“I’d be honored, Your Imperial Majesty.”
Though Triese was wide-eyed adulation in that moment, Peroen noticed that Sophenie wasn’t the only one who grimaced at the mention of the Will. Maybe anger at how the imperial family had treated the oracles sent to them every generation would be enough to distract the women from the insults the Emperor hurled in Peroen’s direction.
Ah yes, reminding them that oracles given to his ancestors were little more than slaves would surely make them more favorably inclined to marry him.
Yslie quickly mastered her expression, hiding once more behind a bland smile. She reached for her goblet of wine without unhooking her veil first, and Peroen gently cleared his throat. No one but Yslie noticed, but she looked at him. He reached up and casually scratched his cheek.
Eyes going wide, she set down her goblet and fumbled with her veil. Unhooking one side, she let it hang loose against her other cheek, and inclined her head slightly toward him. She took a sip of wine and focused on her supper.
Only half the table engaged in conversation as they ate. Triese and Odela took turns one-upping each other as they vied for the Emperor’s favor. Peroen followed the conversation only enough to note that Odela, at least, moderated her responses so that she never flat-out insulted him when she agreed with the Emperor. The rest, he ignored, knowing that any reaction on his part would only make matters worse.
Drawing the Emperor’s attention was never wise. Sophenie and Yslie seemed to agree.
???
The longer thesupper went on, the harder Yslie found it to maintain her polite expression. The Emperor spared no opportunity to insult his son, and Triese went along with every barb thrown Prince Peroen’s way. She was certainly ingratiating herself with the Emperor, but did she have no fear of losing the prince’s favor?
Then again, Prince Peroen hardly seemed to notice the conversation. It was a version of indifference bred from familiarity that she knew well. How many times had Yslie pretended she couldn’t hear Triese’s insults, though they stood only a few feet apart? Sometimes, she even convinced herself that she didn’t care what was whispered not-quite-behind her back.
Perhaps the self-deprecation the prince had displayed when she first met him hadn’t been an act. By the end of their scheduled conversation the evening before, when every word and gesture had become stiff and formal, she had convinced herself that she had imagined the friendly man who had announced his only worth was in knowing how to paint.
He hadn’t lied about his place at court, though. By the Emperor’s own words, Peroen lacked even the slight value he had claimed. His Majesty didn’t disparage his son’s ability, he simply made it clear that painting was an embarrassment rather than a skill to take pride in.
The prince had told her, hadn’t he? He had said that most people saw his painting as a waste of time. Yet he had still divulged his passion to her. She began to wonder if she had more in common with the prince than she had originally thought. What a sad commonality to build upon: being accustomed to disdain.
Yslie barely ate any of the delicacies placed on her plate, though that didn’t stop the servant from loading it to nearly bursting with each course served. She barely touched her wine, too, though that was a conscious decision. She wanted to keep a clear head.
She noticed the prince also took very few sips from his goblet, though the Emperor’s and Triese’s were refilled many times. Finally, the last course was removed, and a gong rang, signaling the beginning of the evening’s entertainment. The Emperor led the way to the connecting chamber, Odela and Triese flanking him.
Yslie fell in step next to Sophenie. The other woman had sat through multiple lectures from Pianti and Heolin that day, and their words had been enough to keep her quiet through the meal, but she was clearly bursting with the need to rage.
“Remember what Pianti said,” Yslie whispered, though they were now well behind the Emperor. “No word spoken in the palace goes unheard.”
“He’s abominable,” Sophenie hissed, barely managing a whisper. “A monster without a conscience.”
“The Assembly can’t remove his claws too soon,” Prince Peroen added, stepping up on Yslie’s other side. She started, horrified that he had overheard them, though he seemed to be in agreement with Sophenie. He offered them a weak smile. “Pianti was right. You are lucky that, in this case, the member of the Will assigned to watch you isn’t as well trained as some of the rest. I don’t think he heard you.”
“I apologize,dyela,” she said, not having any idea how else to deal with the situation.
He raised a brow. “Why should you apologize for Sophenie speaking the truth?”
“I’m not going to apologize,” Sophenie grumbled.
Prince Peroen smiled. “I wouldn’t want you to.”
They reached the next room while they spoke. Yslie spotted the Emperor seated on a throne centered on yet another dais, Triese and Odela standing on each side of him. She shuddered at the thought of spending more time near the Emperor, on display in front of the entire court.
“If Pianti hasn’t instructed you to stay together all evening,” the prince said when the women both hesitated near the door, “I can show you the best corner of the room to actually enjoy the upcoming performance.”
