Shadows: Book One of the Eligia Shala (12 page)

Just before noon, the Shadow Flight emerged from the woods. Smartly following their Captain, heads high and shoulders back, twenty three sore, exhausted and proud men deceived everyone watching them as they made their way back to their barracks. Sergeant Brogan formed the Flight into parade order outside the barracks, from where they were dismissed to the bath-house and food. Salutes sharp enough to cut silk accompanied the dismissal.

From a window in the secondary Council Chamber high on the second floor of the Palace, Commander Raik Rabenaldt turned with a self-satisfied grin to his future Emperor and his current Empress. “I told you!”

 CHAPTER NINE

Several weeks passed, with Jenevra and her Flight becoming a regular feature of palace life. The sight of the princess, dressed in tunic and pants, with swords crossed on her back, became a common event, although still detested by Serena Manvi. At Phillip’s insistence, Jenevra had made some efforts to learn how to behave at court. With Mikyle Manvi and several ladies-in-waiting, Phillip had committed an hour or so each day to teaching Jenevra how to dance—which she picked up quickly thanks to her training. Unfortunately, it soon became clear that the princess was not popular with the other young women at court. She made no effort to hide how useless she felt they all were, and their subsequent derision of her efforts to fit in to court life precluded any kind of friendships. Not to mention that Jenevra’s unusual status gave her opportunities to be frequently in the company of most of the Imperial officers—something many of the women were deeply jealous of. They had no way of knowing that the princess couldn’t have been any less interested in the men, viewing them only as colleagues. Serena gave her many lessons in etiquette, and all kinds of behaviors peculiar to court life, which served mainly to increase Jenevra’s sense of being different, and isolated. Evenings tended to find the princess excusing herself early, and disappearing to be alone. But there was no repetition of the meeting she had had with Arrilia Neilla on the day she arrived: no time for the two of them to spend together to work on reconciliation.

Following a hard morning’s work on her riding skills, Jenevra pulled on a deep cobalt velvet gown in the looser style she preferred. There had been no mistaking the excited buzz going around the Palace now that their future Empress had arrived. It was time for a Couressime family reunion.

With a deep breath before opening the door to her brother’s rooms, Jenevra hoped that Richard would be alone so that she could divide and conquer. She breezed into the room, faltering slightly as she registered there were two blond figures standing by the fire. Frustrated that the twins were together, Jenevra swore under her breath and walked across the room to greet them. For a long moment they just stood together.

Richard was the first to step back, pushing Jenevra gently away to take a better look at her. “You’ve grown.”

Christiana grasped Jenevra’s hand, pulling her towards the long seat near the fireplace. She studied her younger sister’s face intently, as if she hoped to find answers to questions there. “It’s good to see you,” she said simply. “It’s been really strange not having you around. Are you all right?”

Despite thinking that they’d never noticed whether she was around or not when she’d lived there, Jenevra gave her a heartfelt hug. “You’re the first person to actually ask me that. Everyone else just wants to know where I’ve been and what I’m doing back here.”

“Well, I’ve been on my own since you went away,” Christiana explained. “It’s just me against Rick, Stephan, Phil–and even Mikyle Manvi’s been acting up too. Only because they knew you weren’t here!”

Jenevra laughed, holding onto the moment. It wasn’t often that she and her sister found themselves in agreement, and she wanted to put off the explosion she knew would come following her announcement. “So, are you ready to get married, Chris? I know Phil’s—”

“Oh, how is he?” Christiana’s voice was breathless. “They haven’t let me see him yet. Something about a council meeting.” Her hands gripped Jenevra’s arm tightly.

Richard and Jenevra grinned at each other, the family resemblance showing in the mischievous glinting blue eyes. “Poor Chrissie has been missing her little Philly terribly,” Richard chortled.

“Bloody adolescent!” Christiana tossed a hip length cloud of golden blonde hair around in indignation, jutting her chin towards her sister. “Well, how is he?”

“His Imperial Highness was in splendid form last time I saw him, your future Imperialness. Seems like a man in a hurry to get his forthcoming nuptials over with, anyway.” Richard and Jenevra laughed as their sister blushed deeply. “Don’t blush, Chris, it makes your hair look ginger!”

“I missed this!” Richard hugged his sister again.

“If you two have quite finished?” Christiana’s frosty tone didn’t quite come off. “I suppose we should find Stephan and let him know the prodigal prankster has returned to the fold.”

“Prodigal prankster? I like that.” Jenevra smiled. “Whose idea was that one? It’s quite clever–rules you out then, eh, Chris?”

Christiana shook her head. “To think I actually thought I’d missed you. Could we please get back to the point? How is Phillip? I mean really.” She sat back on the seat by the fire, smoothing her hair and arranging her skirts delicately around her. It never hurt to be ready for any unexpected visitors, and who knew when Phillip might get a chance to drop by. She wouldn’t be caught arguing with her brother and sister; she would have him find her looking like his future bride and Empress. Had Phillip arrived at that point, he would, as she knew, have been breathless with admiration. Tall and statuesque, she had a figure with curves that stopped the right side of tasteful. Topped with masses of pure golden hair, a flawless peaches and cream complexion, and the crystal blue eyes that each of the Couressime children possessed; their father’s eyes. Sitting, as she was, with the fire behind her, she knew the light was soft and flattering, warming her ivory damask gown with rosy hues.

A far slighter build than her sister, Jenevra flopped into a high-backed chair further away from the fire, legs stretched out in front of her, feet bare underneath the blue velvet gown. Seeing Christiana’s incredulous glance at her feet, Jenevra tucked them back underneath her skirt and rushed to fill the silence. “Phil’s fine, Chris. He’s taking a lot of extra responsibility on right now because he has to be ready when Aunt Neilla hands over to him; although, in all honesty, it’s as good as done now. She still has to ratify his decisions, and the Council gets to put their collective oars into it, but really and truly, he’s in charge. Of course, he’s changing things around a bit. New appointments … some slightly more … radical ideas. But he can handle it. He’s going to make a great Emperor.”

Tuned in by some twin intuition, both Richard and Christiana caught something in Jenevra’s tone. Richard looked suspiciously at her. “New ideas? Is there anything you think we should know about? Have you been up to anything stupid?”

Christiana looked exasperated. “Great Tore, Richard, she’s only been here a couple of days, Phillip’s never out of the council chamber and she’s surrounded by the Imperial army. She couldn’t draw an unsupervised breath, much less do anything—” Her eyes widened in total disbelief as she watched guilt rising in Jenevra’s face. “What … have … you … done?” she grated from between clenched teeth. “What idiotic, hare-brained scheme have you cooked up this time?”

Arms folded defensively, Jenevra chewed on her lip. “Nothing. Well, nothing much.”

“And what, exactly, is your definition of nothing much?” Richard’s eyes were rapidly darkening to a storm.

“Nothing you need worry about. Honestly … it’s just a traditional job for a member of the Imperial family. It’s a ceremonial role; a formality really.” Two pairs of skeptical eyes watched her as she edged towards the door. “It’s the traditional post for the youngest adult of the Imperial line. You’ve all been telling me for years that I should be more mindful of my responsibilities, so now I am.” She saw a growing light of comprehension dawning in their eyes and, realizing that her window of opportunity for a swift escape was rapidly closing, she added, “Anyhow, it means I’ll need to keep up on my rest, so I’ll be going … oh, about now, I think.” Snatching at the door handle, she tried for a quick exit, only to find herself nose to chest with an impressive amount of masculinity, which proceeded to enfold her in a heavily muscled bear hug. Dangling uselessly in her oldest brother’s greeting, Jenevra looked at Chris and Richard, then up at Stephan’s face. “Oh, hell!”

“Imperial Protector? What sort of nonsense is that?” Tact had never been big in Stephan’s repertoire. “How can you possibly think you could even be a figurehead for that kind of thing? Are you crazy? What’s Phillip thinking? Does he even know about this?” Stephan stamped around the room like a minor earthquake, his arms flailing in all directions.

“Will you shut up?” Richard shouted from his position sitting on top of Jenevra on the bench seat near the fireplace; just to make sure she didn’t miss this little reunion. He poked Jenevra in the back of the shoulder. “Does Phillip know about this?”

Twisting her head round to glare defiantly at them all, Jenevra spat back, “Oh fine! Now I’m allowed to speak am I? How many times have you all gone on about me not taking being an Imperial Princess seriously? The minute I take on a duty I am supposed to do, you’re all up in arms about it. And yes, Phillip does know about it. It was his idea.”

Three faces stared down at her in stunned disbelief.

“Oh! You are such a liar!” Christiana broke the deadlock. “I’ll bet he doesn’t even know. Anyway,” Christiana leaned down towards where Jenevra was still pinned under Richard. “He’ll just have to disagree to it when I get to speak to him.”

Twisting sharply and giving Richard an unexpected nerve pinch, Jenevra levered him from on top of her and jumped up, turning on Christiana. “You just don’t get it, do you?” She blazed. “What Phillip needs right now isn’t some shrew turning up, making demands—before you’re married. You might want to think about that. He’s still got time to back out! What he needs is a show of Imperial togetherness. The Empire needs to know that he’s not standing there on his own. The marriage will do a lot to help stabilize things, and then you two,” she nodded at Richard and Stephan. “You have lands and forces of your own that will be called into the Imperial ranks should they be needed. That will make idiots like Corros of Diruthia think twice before trying anything.” She drew a breath, trying not to give her brothers and sister a chance to start thinking. “To be honest, I think Phillip’s feeling fairly swamped at the moment, and he could use the moral support of all of us standing at his side, not arguing among ourselves.”

Recovered from his unceremonious landing on the floor, Richard took hold of Jenevra’s arm and swung her round to face him. “Very good, Jenn. Amazing how you think that if you go fast enough you can talk your way out of this. But we still haven’t dealt with the real issue.” The three of them stood in a row, making a tall, blond barrier between Jenevra and the door. “The position you’re talking about is Imperial Protector, yes?” Richard waved Christiana’s gasp of protest into silence. “You just said that Stephan and I will be the family’s military presence here, so logically one of us should be Imperial Protector. Let’s face it, you’re just a girl. How could you take the role?”