The Empire (The Lover's Opalus) (10 page)

She did. The Emperor took her into his arms. He let his lips ravish hers, a low groan at the back of his throat signaling his failure at resistance. When Raeche believed she would choose death over ever being parted from Lanus, she broke the kiss and clasped his hand. She appealed to him: “Place your hand here.” She drew his large hand to her chest. “Perform the Amu’Wey.”

Lanus jerked his hand back as if burned. “Are you insane, Raeche? Spirit curse me but I already knew you were. I will not.”

“Say it.” She grabbed for his hand again.

“You are taken with the Spirit of Madness. No one has performed that primitive rite for more than a thousand generations. If I say it and you do not love me you will die. If I say it and I do not love you, I will die.”

“Other-Spirit! You think I am trying to kill you.”

“
And
yourself, Empress.”

Raeche pushed away from him then stood, drawing her gown around her shoulders. “The Amu’Wey has been said. Taritana told me. In secret, couples have said it. They have survived when they loved.”

Lanus clasped her shoulders, shaking her a bit before pulling her down to his body once more. “What you and I feel is not love, Raeche. Your tantrums and pranks are bids for attention, but they are not love. My inability to resist your considerable charm is not love. It is the Spirit of Folly, of Lust, of Obsession.”

“You are speaking again and your words are meaningless to me.” She pulled at his neck until his eyes were level with hers. She pressed her lips to his once more then reached to place her hand against his belly, beneath the loose waist of his soft chamber pants. His hand snapped tightly over her wrist before she could claim her prize, but Raeche pressed forward so their hips collided and she found the thickness that proved the stakes had been elevated.

So fearful he would not respond or, worse, send her away, Raeche held tight, reveled in the feel of his hard body against hers, of the intoxicating shards of heat showering over her.

“Shhh, little one.” He kissed her softly and shifted her on his body. “Shhh. If you do not slow, you will make me repeat the mistake I made with you nearly five rings ago. You must–”

“No! Please do not send me away. I do not know what is wrong with me but I cannot stop thinking about you, about this. I ache for you, Lanus. Spirit help me, I do. Tell me what you like, what you want me to do. I cannot go on like this. I am burning, Lanus.”

“But do you
truly
burn for me?”

“Yes.” She rolled him onto his back and sat atop him. “Yes.” She had done this once with Galan, aroused at the thought of being on top, but then she had worried she was too heavy for him. Had found that, yes, her knees were too close when they touched either side of his hip. With her husband, her husband in his form, she did not worry. She laid a hand on his chest. Felt his heart beat.

When Raeche lifted her eyes to his, she felt drawn in, spellbound. Anxious in her belly. Unsure. Like less-than clinging to more-than. She knew that greater bowed to lesser this day and it overwhelmed her. “My Lanus,” she whispered. She had been bound by those eyes so long. She wished, not for the first time, she could scry his thoughts the way he divined hers.

In a moment she felt him stroke her skin with his thumbs. In a tone softer and gentler than she had ever heard from her husband, even when he spoke to their daughter, Lanus asked, “Do you love me?”

In truth, she did not know how to answer. In truth, Raeche did not know what love meant. So she asked her husband, the man to whom she had belonged all her life, “How can I tell?”

“Do you love Rucha?”

Without hesitation, the Empress assured him she did.

“How do you know?”

“It is different.”

“Most assuredly,” Lanus said.

“Do you love me?” Raeche asked.

Lanus did not have an answer. He did, however, have a proposal. “Come with me to the West and South.”

“To Whrennal?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“So that we may have a time together as husband and wife. So that we can make ourselves ordinary and learn what we learn about our new situation.”

“Our new situation?” Raeche crossed her arms over her chest. “You are doing this for Taritana, are you not?”

“I am doing this for two reasons. The first is to determine whether we can truly coexist with one another without the Spirits of Violence and Lust riding us. The other is indeed out of guilt. Not often does that Spirit finds its way into the Empire.”

“I have not met her sister.”

“Ina is the Spirit of Gentility.”

“So…not like her sister.”

“Indeed.”

“What will you do when you find that she has been mistreated by Praytor, because that is most certainly what you will find?”

“Perhaps you will help me discern the answer, Empress.”

Raeche raised an eyebrow.

Chapter 13

Tawny locks waved down her back, catching the light from the window, shining like the daystar on the edge of his sword. He had always loved the long trail of fine waves.

Valor gave a little push of Spirit and watched her shoulders go up when she felt it. Taritana turned slowly and released a deep breath. She rubbed her hands over the tops of her arms, which were covered in a tight material. Tiny, almost imperceptible fibers rose from the material, indicating that it had come from the skin of the glabba bush, a rich material in that it was thin and light but kept the body warm. Her white dress conformed to her body down to her knees, where it flared wide. A simple winter dress for an important woman of the court, yet Taritana wore it as if it were fit for a coronation…or a bedchamber.

She licked lips painted blood red, the stain probably left over from the celebration dinner. Valor considered not for the first time that she should not have looked so beautiful. Her features were handsome. Her skin was as white as the great daystar-scorched rib bones of the centuries-dead aurus.

“What happened?” Valor asked, lightly touching her arm, sending a quick Spirit of Heat through her so that she dropped her hands.

“I have never been good with heat,” she confessed shyly. Even when she blushed, her skin remained pale, not a blemish or even a fragile blue vein to betray that she was real.

Valor prodded her again.

“I discovered that my beloved Empire is peopled with fools.”

Valor felt the side of his mouth quirk. “Tell me.”

“The Empire chose to ride west and south to Whrennal.”

“I know.” Valor nodded. “They were of a mind to get to know each other.”

“After more rings of being in each other’s presence than not, they needed to get to know each other? Ludicrous.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“The Empire was not awarded its wish to be alone for this trip. Upon learning that they would travel with Rucha, the king and queen of Innov were honored to accompany the Empire with Eynow and the rest of their horde. As you are well aware, Rucha has not taken to Eynow. Which may not have mattered but that the family is long in the memory and favor of the Empire. Your brother and sister have ignored the Empire in favor of pursuing
each other.
Add to those things that Rucha has openly denied and humiliated Eynow at every turn.”

“That was a very long string of words, Taritana. I am not sure I followed them to any coherent conclusion. Calm yourself.”

The Empress’s Personal huffed.

“So, the entire troupe traveled to Whrennal.”

“Yes.”

“And you went as well.”

“Yes.”

“And my brother and sister pursued each other.”

“As always. They played children’s games, but the Empress was unsatisfied until the stakes were as high as life itself. She bedeviled him. He laughed and hung on her every noxious action. I believe he would happily let her drive a dagger through his heart.”

“And…”

“And we never even saw my sister. Praytor said she was ill and not receiving.”

“And my brother allowed that?”

“Yes.”

“And his wife?”

“Was embarrassingly preoccupied. As usual.”

Valor swallowed. This was a time to be careful. He had seen the hard set of the Personal’s jaw. “How so, Second Empress?”

She winced at the archaic title. “Raeche was garbed in red and registered like a bright spot of blood in the eye.” Taritana pointed at her eye. With a tiny spark, she created the illusion that it clouded with blood. The illusion died as quickly as it had come. “Wherever one looked, she shone there in the corner like a pulsing beacon of the Spirit of Vanity.”

Valor’s lips twitched, but Taritana kept going, barely seeming to notice.

“Of course she did not perform any of her duties, though I admit she seemed genuine in her attentiveness to the Innov and its brood. Even Praytor seemed desperate to please her in exchange for naught but a winning smile.”

“And?”

Taritana stood, nearly growling in frustration. Valor would push her sometimes when it was best not to.

“She sat there in Dahouina’s place, all brightness–”

“She sat in the place of honor wearing the color of honor. Red honored the king and queen,” Valor offered levelly.

“As well as he who hosted the Empire.”

“Yes, it would have honored their host and hostess as well.” Valor stepped closer to her. “Tell me what has upset you.”

“How can he pant after her? Can it simply be because she welcomes him in her bed now? Is that all a man requires?”

Valor was pleased she did not await his answer.

“She is useless, Valor–you know this–in the arts of subtlety and control. Her skin glowed, her hair shone, her black eyes grew even blacker as the Spirit of Lust poured from her. Her bold stare at the Emperor went unchecked. Even her visions, her filthy desires were laid open in the minds of every soul present.” Taritana swallowed and squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head though it seemed the images would not fly free.

“What did you see?”

“I saw Lanus as he had appeared earlier that Light, coming from the hunt with Praytor. Dirty, hungry, lean. Hair and skin caked with dried blood, he rides in on Balaaga. She sees the way the women sigh over him. The men’s chests puff full of air because he is their leader. They clamor to trade stories of battle with him. She stands, in red or white, wearing as always a gown in the custom of the Old Castle–a single length of material clipped at her shoulder, draped so as to both disguise and flatter her form. Her body catches fire at the sight of him. She is filled with pride that he is hers. To welcome him, she floats down into the courtyard and climbs up on his mount with him. She lifts her skirts then sits him as he sits his horse, in front of all…” She would not look at him any longer and went back to chafing her shoulders. She paced clear across the large chamber. “I am sure that is enough for your understanding.”

Valor shifted where he stood. Yes, it had been enough. “Then what happened?”

“He rose, beckoning to Raeche with a finger. She came to him right away and they left the hall, although I am certain if he had wanted to take her there, she would have allowed him. By that time, much of the court would have happily watched.”

He would need to cleanse his Spirit soon, for he felt he would have happily watched just the same. Then he would have–he cleared his throat. “That is what angers you?”

“N-no,” she stammered. Her head tilted to the side. A fall of shining yellow covered one of her eyes. “Not entirely.” She stood. Her chest rose and fell, and the words caught in her throat.

“Tell me then. You were unable to see your sister but you must have news of her.”

Her breath stopped. Then, with a stutter, it started again. “I have none. I never saw her. The Empire never saw her, never demanded to see her.”

“How long were you there?”

“Five Darks.”

“What of the servants? Did none speak of Ina?”

“Did they speak to you or any of your retainers of her when last you visited?”

Valor winced. “No, they did not. Well you know it.”

“So you did not use Spirit?”

“It would dishonor the Empire and the Codices if I were to disobey our laws. Spirit used unpermitted in the house of another is an assault punishable by death.”

“Your brother would not have sentenced you.” Suddenly she scrubbed at her eyes with the heels of her hands.

“Tana?”

“You promised to see her safe.” Her voice broke over the words like an egg over rock.

It broke over Valor. Her tears cemented his resolve. “I have not completed my task but I have not failed. From what intelligence I have, I know that Ina has not been hurt physically.”

“There are other methods of cruelty.”

“You know that Praytor is no fool. Harming your sister would be criminal and would bring down the wrath of the Empire.”

“Would it?”

“You know it would.”