Rise of Empire (The Riyria Revelations #3-4)

“Yes, sir, it is.” She forced her voice to remain calm.

Nimbus, Anna, and the cobbler all appeared and rushed down the hall. Nimbus paused briefly, giving her a worried look before entering the dressing room.

“Allow me to be blunt,” the earl said.

“Please do, sir.” Amilia’s anxiety neared the breaking point.

“Everyone knows you’re the closest to the empress. She confides in no one but you. Can you—Have you—Does the empress ever speak of me?”

Amilia raised her eyebrows in surprise. Under ordinary circumstances, the earl’s hesitancy could have seemed quaint and even charming, but at that moment, she prayed he would just get it out and be done with it.

“Please, I know I’m being terribly forward, but I’m a forward man. I would like to know if she has ever thought of me, and if so, is it to her favor?”

“My lord, I can honestly say she has never once mentioned you to me.”

The earl paused to consider this.

“I’m not sure how I should interpret that. I’m certain she sees so many suitors. Can you do me a favor, milady?”

“If it is in my power, sir.”

“Could you speak to her about gracing me with a dance this evening at the ball after the banquet? I would be incredibly grateful.”

“Her Eminence won’t be attending the ball or the banquet, sir. She never dines in public and has many matters that require her attention.”

“Never?”

“I’m afraid not, sir.”

“I see.” The earl paused in thought as Amilia rapidly drummed the tips of her fingers together.

“If you please, sir, I do need to be seeing to the empress.”

“Of course. Forgive me for taking up your valuable time. Still, if you should perhaps mention me to Her Eminence and let her know I would very much like to visit with her …”

“I will, Your Lordship. Now, if you’ll excuse me …”

Amilia hurried back and found that the seamstress had finished the collar, which was tall and did indeed keep her chin up. The addition looked horribly uncomfortable. Modina, of course, didn’t seem to care. The cobbler, however, was still working on her shoe.

“What’s going on here?” she asked.

“The new heel he put on was taller than the other,” Nimbus told her. “He tried to resize, but in his haste he over-compensated and now it is shorter.”

Amilia turned to Anna. “How long do we have?”

“About fifteen minutes,” she replied gloomily.

“What about the headdress? I don’t see it.”

“It was not in the bedroom, or hall, my lady.”

Anna’s face drained of color. “Oh dear Maribor, forgive me. I forgot all about it!”

“You forgot? Nimbus!”

“Yes, my lady?”

“Run to the milliner and fetch the headdress, and when I say run, I mean sprint, do you hear me?”

“At once, my lady, but I don’t know where the milliner shop is.”

“Get a page to escort you.”

“The pages are all busy with the ceremony.”

“I don’t care! Grab one at sword point if necessary. Find one who knows the way and tell him it’s by order of the empress and don’t let anyone stop you. Now move!”

“Anna!” Amilia shouted.

“Yes, milady.” The maid was trembling, in tears. “I’m so sorry, milady, truly I am.”

“We don’t have time for apologies or tears. Go to the empress’s bedroom and fetch her day shoes. She’ll have to wear them instead. Do it now!”

Amilia slammed the door behind them and gave it a solid kick in frustration. She leaned her forehead against the oak as she concentrated on calming down. The gown would cover the shoes. No one would know the difference. The headdress was another matter. They had worked on it for weeks and the regents would notice its absence. The milliner’s shop was out in the city proper, and she had left it to Anna to pick up. She could really blame only herself. She should have asked about it earlier and was furious at her incompetence. She kicked the door once more, then turned around and slumped to the floor, her gown ballooning about her.

The ceremony would begin in minutes but there was still time. Modina’s speech was scheduled to be last and Amilia was certain she would have at least another twenty, perhaps even thirty, minutes while the others addressed the crowd. Across from her, Modina sat stiff and straight in her royal gown of white and gold, her long neck held high by the new collar. There was something different about Modina. She was watching Amilia with interest. She was actually studying her.

“Are you going to be all right?” she asked the empress.

Immediately, the light in her eyes vanished and the blank stare returned.

Amilia sighed.





Regent Ethelred spoke for nearly an hour from the balcony, which was decorated in colorful bunting, although Amilia hardly heard a word of what he said. Something about the grandness and might of the New Empire and how Maribor had ordained that it would unite all of humanity once again. He spoke of the New Empire’s military successes in the north and the bloodless annexation of Alburn and Dunmore. He followed this with the news of an expected surplus in wheat and barley and an end to the elven problem. They would no longer be allowed to roam free, and instead of being turned into useless slaves, they would simply disappear. The New Empire was gathering wayward elves from all over the realm. How they would be disposed of, he did not say. The massive crowd below cheered their approval and their combined voices roared.

Amilia sat in the staging room, her arms wrapped about her waist. She could not even pace now. The empress herself appeared unconcerned by the approaching presentation and sat calmly as ever in her shimmering gown and massive headdress, which mimicked a fanning peacock.

Nimbus had managed excellent time reaching the milliner, although in the process he had apparently terrified a young page with threats. They also had good fortune in that the ceremony had started late due to a last-minute dispute about the order of speakers. Amilia had managed to secure the headdress on Modina just minutes before the first started.

The chancellor had spoken first, then Ethelred, and finally Saldur. With each word, Amilia felt it harder and harder to breathe. Finally, Ethelred’s speech concluded and Saldur stepped forward for the formal introduction. The crowd hushed, as they knew the expected moment was at hand.