Pulling my hand from Valko’s door, I spun away to return to my chambers. I sought my penance with Feya and only slowed my steps to meet her as I passed Anton’s room and felt his shuttered energy within. Just as I didn’t knock on Valko’s door, I didn’t knock on his brother’s. The emperor would have answered, would have spoken to me, but never the prince.
One rainy day on the cusp of spring, I stared at the stained-glass window in the council chamber and watched the water flow around the leaded joints of the panes. I determined to keep my face blank and not sigh at the sensation of Valko’s smallest finger circling my knee beneath the table. The emperor was more keen on me than he’d been in a few days—his emotions a heady rush swirling inside me. They begged for me to throw myself at him, despite our audience of stern men. Thankfully, Anton wasn’t here to see me so delightfully frazzled. No doubt any fragment of his regard for me would vanish. I’d fall even farther from his high standard.
“What do you think of my proposal, Sonya?” Valko asked. The rain drizzled down the panes of the Ozerov coat of arms. I shuttered my thoughts of the prince away.
“Proposal, My Lord?” Did the emperor speak of his marriage offer to Madame Delphine Valois? I often forgot he was marrying at all. I didn’t want to think of him kissing another woman the way he’d kissed me. Still, I knew he was impatient for the Esten emissary to arrive with news of Delphine’s acceptance or denial.
Valko’s fingernail slid over my knee and sent a pleasured chill up my spine. I fisted my hands to ward off a flush to my cheeks. I couldn’t allow him to get to me like this, not when he would soon have a bride. “My expansion into Shengli,” he clarified with a smile. His gaze pierced mine and searched for what I was feeling, thinking.
“Oh, yes, of course.” I collected my thoughts, surprised that he had asked for my opinion on the matter. He’d never asked for my opinion in this setting. No one had. But I did have my own feelings regarding the continuing border wars with Estengarde and the ones resurfacing with Shengli after decades of peace. And now, with the strength of the emperor’s forthcoming marriage alliance, he wanted to lay siege against Shengli and annex it into our empire. As there was no daunting mountain range between us, Shengli was easier to invade than Estengarde and had more plentiful resources of gems and timber. But the Shenglin army, a lethal force of mastered discipline and skill, posed its own formidable barrier between us.
Valko’s councilors had spent an hour debating the wisdom of his latest scheme for bringing more wealth into Riaznin—or, as they put it, “spreading our culture to the east to protect ourselves from threat”—and now they awaited my answer with bored tolerance etched across their faces. Within them, however, I felt their resentment of me. As I studied the councilors and felt their anger twist my stomach, but not jab it with hot knives, I determined they were not dangerous. And after many long weeks of silence in council meetings, I decided to speak up.
“I think it is a false notion that acquiring more will bring about prosperity,” I began. “I’ve seen happiness abound in humble circumstances where people don’t live in domination under one another.” I alluded to the Romska, but the emperor didn’t know that part of my history. “Riaznin is capable of greatness without plundering it from another country, especially one with an unbroken history of being able to defend itself against our empire—indeed, it has often sought to conquer us. Why should we take the risk? I believe we have the competence to bolster ourselves from within.”
The rain softened on the windowpanes. No one said a word for several moments. I swallowed the ticking of my heart and absorbed the auras in the room. Some were caught on bitter humor—jeers they didn’t vocalize in the off chance the emperor might be pleased with my remark. For the smile on his face, he might have been. But the edges of his curved lips tightened, and his spidery fingers froze on my leg. A different energy—deep and familiar and flowing with admiration—made me turn in my chair.
Anton stood quietly, just inside the entrance of the room, his eyes trapped on mine.
Valko followed my gaze and stiffened upon finding his brother. The prince looked away from me too late. He cleared his throat and bowed to Valko. “I have a letter for you, Your Imperial Majesty.”
“Not now.” Valko whirled back to his councilors. “That is all for today,” he told them. “You are dismissed.” They stood, gathering papers, and shot him curious glances. I moved to stand. “Not you, Sonya.” He examined a fresh stain of ink on his cuff.