By the time the emperor's entire entourage came ashore, daylight was fading under the cloak of dusk. Since men were not permitted inside the temple after dark, the novices escorted the emperor and his men to the small village, which had come alive in the last few hours. Everyone wanted to catch a sight of the emperor in all his splendorâwell, almost everyone. Neither the Arbiter nor the sisters made the effort to greet him upon his arrival, their absence speaking louder than any words. An intentional slight, Sam suspected, and a clear play for power. The Convent of the Sun answered to a higher authority than a mere mortal. And the Arbiter waited for no one.
Sam returned to the temple with the sisters and the dozen or so women in the emperor's party. It was hard not to stare; the women wore diaphanous silk gowns that teased at transparency, though technically, not a single inch of bare skin was exposed below the chin. Where the silk ended, gold chains and jewels began, dripping down their slender arms and coiled around their necks. Their age was indeterminate underneath their face paint, their eyes elongated with kohl that extended all the way to their precisely plucked eyebrows, the eyelid in between a startling shade of green. As they moved, bells jingled from their ankles. Every so often, they would look at each other and giggle behind their hands. Sam found them rather intimidating.
Later, once the novices had returned from the village, Sam asked Kameko about the women. "Why are they here?"
Kameko was quietly amused. "They are here for the emperor's pleasure."
It took Sam a moment to grasp her cousin's meaning. "All of them?" she sputtered. "But he's only a boy!"
Kameko shrugged. "He's the emperor," she said, as though that explained everything. "Women have been crawling into his bed from the minute he left the cradle."
She shouldn't be so shocked. King Eldric of Thule was infamous for his lusty appetites, even among gently bred circles. His marriage five summers ago had done little to put a damper on it. He must've slept with a hundred women since thenâa wonder since when Sam had been introduced, she'd found him repulsive. In the last year, he'd gone so far as to install his favorite courtesan in her own rooms in the castle, right under the queen's nose. The gossip that ensued even reached the Uriel.
That was the difference between the Thulian king and the Rhean emperor. The king's indiscretions were affairsâaccepted but frowned uponâwhereas the emperor paraded his harem out in the open without censure.
To Sam's surprise, the sisters did not try to sweep her presence under the rug while the emperor danced attendance on the temple. In fact, since Kameko was called away to run some silly errand for one of the emperor's ministers, she could roam the convent freely, though there were always eyes on her. The temple was swarming with people; everywhere she turned there was another one of the emperor's men underfoot. Assuming she was just another noviceâafter all, she was dressed like one, though she eschewed the balaclavaâthey paid her no mind. And though they glanced her way when she passed, for the most part neither did the sisters, distracted by their male guests for one reason or another. Sam could walk down the temple halls without the weight of their hate-filled stares following her. She felt a thousand pounds lighter.
I could just slip away, Sam thought, sorely tempted. It would be so easy to disappear out through the gardens and then never return. And then what? She wouldn't get very far without a horse or a boat. And traveling alone in a strange country without a weapon was plain suicidal. Besides, she had no idea where to go. Maybe she was better off staying here, where Braeden would know how to find her.
If he was in a position to find her. Sam seemed to be the only one who remembered that when Braeden escaped, he hadn't escaped by himself. Where were the rogue sisters that fled with him? Had they let him go, or did he remain a prisoner with different jailors?
She wasn't left alone for long. A servant of the convent Sam didn't recognize found her loitering outside the training hall, watching the novices put on a flashy display of strength and gymnastics for a small audience of spectators. She'd seen them train before, and had been reminded of Braedenâthe way they fought had echoes of his catlike grace and fluid movements. This was not that; this was an exaggerated show meant to impress and intimidate.
The servant sketched a quick curtsy. "The Arbiter wants to see you, lady."
Sam swallowed down her unease and plastered on a pleasant expression. "Where?"
"She waits for you in her office." The servant curtsied again. "I will show you the way."
Seeing no point in disobeying the Arbiter's wishes, Sam followed the servant out to the east cloister. "The Arbiter's office is through there," said the servant, pointing toward the door at the north end of the cloister. "Knock before entering."
Sam nodded absently, her feet moving on their own. She was halfway down the arched walkway before noticing the servant was gone.
Sam paused just outside the door, taking a deep indrawn breath. What had the servant said about knocking? She'd only been half paying attention, distracted by the squeeze of anxiety in her chest. She raised her knuckles to knock but hesitated, the back of her fist hovering an inch away from the wood paneling.
"Where is she?" asked a haughty male voice Sam didn't recognize. Sam leaned her ear against the door, but she couldn't hear the reply.
"I said, where is she?" came the same voice again, several decibals louder. "It shouldn't take half a day to find her." And then, sharp and suspicious: "What did you do to her?"
"Your Imperial Majesty," replied the Arbiter in soft, soothing tones. She said something else but Sam couldn't make out the words.
The sound of shattering glass drowned out whatever was said next, and then the door burst open, walloping Sam in the face and sending her sprawling. Head spinning, Sam touched her cheek where the door had connected, wincing at the tenderness. Still in a daze, she blinked up at the angry face looming over her. Her eyes widened. "Y-your Imperial Majesty," she managed.
The boy emperor stared down at her, quivering with rage. "You set one of your spies on me?"
It took Sam a moment to realize his question wasn't addressed to her. "She is not a spy," the Arbiter said calmly. "Majesty, may I introduce Lady Samantha of Thule. She is the daughter of the Duke of Haywood. General Hondo's granddaughter."
The emperor's thundercloud expression didn't budge. "And what was General Hondo's granddaughter doing eavesdropping on our conversation?"
"I would like to know the answer to that as well," said another voice, deep and commanding. The owner of the voice stepped out of the Arbiter's office, an enormous, brutal-looking man with a shaved head and thick, graying beard. Gold hoops hung from each earlobe. He was dressed in clothes nearly as fine as the emperor's, but it was like putting a dress on a lion; there was no mistaking him for a pussycat, no matter what he wore. He tilted his head, watching Sam through slanted eyes, and then, with a shrug of his massive shoulders, he extended her a callused hand and yanked her to her feet. When the emperor turned his glare on him, he said mildly, "I was going to get a crick in my neck looking down at her."
Sam glanced sideways at the Arbiter. Her features were composed, but her left eye twitched. She was displeased about something. Sam decided to hedge her bets. Sweeping into a proper Thulian curtsy fit for a king, she made her apologies to the emperor. "I was eavesdropping," she confessed, watching the Arbiter out of the corner of her eye. The woman looked murderous. "But not because I'm a spy. I was on my way to see the Arbiter, and I heard loud voices. I'm unconscionably nosy. My mother always said it would get me into real trouble one day." She forced her mouth into a sheepish smile.
The emperor made a derisive snort, but the large man just stared intently at her, long enough to make her squirm. "You don't have your mother's eyes," he said finally. "But you have her smile." His hard face split into a wide grin, and before Sam knew what was happening, his arms circled around her and he crushed her to his chest in a fierce hug.
"Can't...breathe," she rasped out.
He set her down gently and took a step back, his gaze damp. "Sorry about that," he said gruffly, then shook his head in disbelief. "Faith in blood, Tsalene's daughter. I never thought I'd have the chance to meet you."
"You knew my mother?" Sam asked.
The big man laughed, but there was a note of sadness running underneath his laughter. "Know your mother? I loved her. You're her daughter, but you should have also been mine."
A/N: Just a half chapter b/c I wanted to get you all something! Drawing is by legendary-memory on deviant art. Please vote if you enjoyed the chapter, and as always look forward to your comments! (P.S. Braeden will be making a reappearance soon, fear not).