Valko lifted two fingers and whispered something to the servant who came to his side. The servant took a silver platter of meat from the emperor’s table, stepped off the dais, and wove around the first table to the second—to me.
My stomach spasmed. My mouth clamped shut. At last, the flush left my cheeks. My blood drained away with a sickening prickle. All heads in the room revolved to watch that silver platter approach me. With a flick of his fingers, the emperor had done what I’d sought to avoid all evening—draw attention to myself. And in the worst way possible. In a way that couldn’t please him. Because I would not eat that meat.
The servant stopped before me, and his heels clicked together. I wanted to crawl under the table, rip open the floor, burrow a hole through the frozen earth until I found the Romska camps. I could hide in the woods with Tosya, who always made me feel safe. “His Imperial Majesty, the Lord Emperor and Grand Duke of all Riaznin, favors you, Sovereign Auraseer,” the servant said.
The room perked up with interest once my title was revealed. A flurry of whispers emerged from the nobles like a flock of hidden birds. Just as quickly, everyone hushed as they waited to see what I would do. A distracting swell of energy lanced the edges of my awareness. I didn’t entertain it. I forced myself to glance at the meat. Instinctively, my nose wrinkled. Roast swan. The head still intact. The beak open and stuffed with stewed figs. The bird’s eyes were seared shut. It looked like it was crying.
My lips parted as I struggled to form words to respectfully decline the offering. I managed a small squeak. The candle nearest me flickered and dripped a bead of wax. The guests’ curiosity closed in around me. Valko’s gaze never wandered. The room was silent. Not even the clink of a knife against porcelain disturbed the quiet.
The servant’s brow gleamed with sweat. He darted a nervous glance over his shoulder to the emperor. The portly lady beside me lifted her napkin to her mouth and whispered, “You rise, take the meat, and then you bow, child.”
I swallowed. My tongue felt like paper. “Thank you,” I said to the servant, disregarding the woman, “but—”
He dished me a serving, cutting off my protest. My hands went clammy. Perhaps if I did as my neighbor suggested, everyone would go back to their meals and not bother to see if I took a bite.
I stood slowly and lowered in a curtsy. My unbound hair fell in front of my shoulders. How foolish of me to think it would be enough to satisfy the emperor.
He gave me a minuscule nod, but his mouth remained a straight line.
I sat back down. Wished for the nobles to return to their private conversations. Hoped Valko would be bored again.
Vapors of emotion crowded the air. Anger and envy and curiosity threaded around me like the laces of a corset, squeezing out my breath. I turned a pleading look to Anton. Mercifully, his gaze was upon me, but his hands were also white-fisted on the table. I tried to sift out his aura, interpret something from him and find a way out of this. Couldn’t he whisper something to his brother to explain my peculiarities—what eating this meat would do to me?
He did not. As his hands curled tighter, he gave me a nod, almost like a command.
My shoulders fell as disappointment spooled through my body. He wasn’t my ally. Once and for all, I needed to beat that into my head. I couldn’t look to him for my rescue, like some fool of a maiden in a children’s story.
I slid a morsel of meat onto my golden fork. My hand trembled. I opened my mouth, and the swan flesh touched my tongue. A burst of pain flowered above my heart. Vertigo gripped me. My emotions were a tumble. They flashed from soaring abandon to earth-rending sorrow and wrath. And for all that, I held my muscles rigid, forced my teeth to thrash the meat, to swallow it, to become one with the misery of death.
Satisfied, the nobles looked away and resumed their chatter.
Valko grinned. His face was blurry through my watering eyes.
I didn’t let the tears fall until he grew bored of me. Until he turned to the general at his side, who said something that made him toss back his head with raucous laughter. My brows drew together. Was the emperor mocking me?
His merry mood heightened as the evening wore on, long after I’d swallowed the last excruciating morsel of meat. I’d never witnessed someone shift so quickly from one mood to the next. As more dishes were passed and more spirits drunk, as entertainers and jesters collided and stumbled over one another in rehearsed madness, the emperor clapped and laughed louder. Veins bulged at his forehead and neck.