I wasn’t summoned for duty until dinner that evening. Valko was entertaining diplomats from Shengli and Abdara in the great hall. I tried to expand my awareness to the foreigners, to deduce any malevolent emotions they might be harboring, but all my energy kept straying to Valko.
He sat with his councilors at his raised table on the dais, his gaze often returning to me. I fiddled with the hem of my sleeve as I analyzed every measure of his aura. Did this heightened feeling within me mean he was just as nervous as I was to be in the same room together? Or was this eagerness? I touched my neck and swallowed. Perhaps all these internal fluctuations were simply my own embarrassment for forgetting myself last night. How difficult had I made it for the emperor to now treat me as merely his sovereign Auraseer?
I cast my eyes to the empty chair at the left end of the emperor’s table. Anton never showed up to the dinner. Had the prince thought twice about the kiss I gave his brother? Was he angry with me, too?
After the last course of the meal, when the guests stood to mingle, Valko remained seated in his chair. He motioned me to him. My heart thudded as I ascended the dais. I curtsied, then knelt at his feet so I wouldn’t stand taller than him. “My Lord Emperor,” I said, remembering Tola and Dasha. I hoped I hadn’t lost his favor.
He twisted a ring on his finger. “What is the sentiment of the diplomats tonight?”
I glanced at the two men—the Shenglin in his silk robes with the insignia of the emerald dragon and the Abdaran in his turban and curl-toed shoes—and chastised myself for not having paid better attention to their auras. Now as close as I was to Valko and with my natural affinity toward him, I couldn’t sense a thing from the diplomats. “They’re, um . . . doing well. They’re satisfied with the fine meal you gave them and seem eager to watch the bear dancers.”
Valko nodded, thankfully accepting the pitiful report I fabricated on the spot. “I’d like to keep them comfortable for as long as possible. They won’t be happy when they discover I’m arranging a marriage alliance with Estengarde.”
“Of course, Your Imperial Majesty. I’ll let you know when that happens.”
His gaze swept over my face, and his eyes warmed in the candlelight. “Did you sleep well last night, Sonya?”
“Yes.” I didn’t mean to whisper, but my breath caged in my chest.
His lips curved. “I’m glad to hear it.”
A silence descended upon us and overflowed with heated energy. The kiss we had shared occupied all my thoughts. I remembered the taste of currant tea on his mouth, the sweet aroma of the smoking fir cones beneath his samovar. I had a sudden yearning to be alone with him.
“Will you sit beside me while the dancers perform?” Valko asked. “I want—”
“Yes,” my whispered answer tumbled out of me.
His grin deepened, and he finished his sentence. “I want you to keep me apprised of the diplomats’ auras.”
“Yes,” I said again, feeling my cheeks warm.
I remained with him until the dancers came. Some wore bearskins and others were dressed like hunters. When the music began, I settled into my position at the emperor’s feet. As the dance intensified—when the eyes of the courtiers and diplomats were on the hunters as they prodded the bears with spears, as they leapt over the animals to the beat of the drums and frenzied strings—Valko’s hand met the nape of my neck. He softly traced the scooped edge of my gown and the ridge of my spine. I exhaled against a swirl of light-headedness and curled my fingers in my lap.
Too soon the dance ended, and the emperor’s touch withdrew. He stood and clapped while the hunters bowed over their slaughtered prey. Without sharing any more words with me, Valko left the dais for the company of the diplomats. For a long while I sat at the foot of his empty chair, still shivering with a flurry of emotion as I struggled to understand my own feelings. Did they belong to me, or was my racing heartbeat still latched on to the emperor’s aura, to his newfound attraction to the sovereign Auraseer? He never did ask me again about the diplomats. It was just as well. I wouldn’t have been able to answer him.
I didn’t retire to my rooms after the festivities ended. I took an apple off a banquet table and wandered outside to the palace stables. The air was cool enough to frost my breath, but not turn my bones to ice. The season trembled in that tentative place between winter and spring.
I walked past stall after stall, admiring the horses, until I stopped at the gate of a beautiful white mare with a star-shaped patch of auburn on her brow. “Hello, Raina,” I said, holding out the apple.