Valko’s adamant passion flowed through me. My qualms over his plans for invasion, which I’d so vehemently shared with Anton, seemed a faraway concern. Still, I couldn’t grasp why the emperor would gamble with that “necessary” future because of me. “If it would risk the alliance,” I asked him carefully, “then why do you ask me to dance?”
His gaze wandered back and forth between my eyes. His mood shifted as he tentatively touched a lock of the hair I’d worn down at his request. “Because I want you nearby,” he said, then gave a small shake of his head, like that wasn’t quite the right answer and he also needed to explain it to himself. “So much of my reign is uncertain, and you make me feel safe.” His brow furrowed. “No, it’s more than that—you know every feeling that makes up who I am, and you accept it.” He bit at his lip. “You are the only thing getting me through this evening, Sonya.”
A sweet pain flowered in my heart. I yearned to comfort him, to stroke his cheek and whisper all would be well.
He brought my knuckles to his lips. “Say you will dance with me.”
The red and gold of the room seemed to blur in my periphery as my focus on Valko intensified. I felt nothing but the heady blend of our auras. “I will, My Lord.”
He leaned nearer, and just as my eyes were beginning to close in anticipation of his kiss, the ballroom doors opened. The master of ceremonies entered. Valko pulled back, hurriedly let go of my hand, and sat up taller on his throne. In a flash, he became the dignified emperor with his head held erect and his gaze forward and stoic. With his sudden grandeur swelling in my breast, I corrected my posture and sought to look just as important on my little stool.
The royal orchestra filed in on the opposite side of the ballroom, taking their seats and tuning their instruments. A moment later, the conductor took up his baton, and the strains of the grand polonaise resonated through the air. My chest tightened. This was happening. They were coming. All seven hundred guests.
The master of ceremonies beat his staff twice upon the marble floor, and my heart pounded in trepidation. I reached for the pearls of my headdress and prayed for their sting to distract me from the wave of oncoming auras.
“I hope the reversed order of arrival will be easier for you,” Valko murmured without breaking his gaze from the great doors where the first of the guests filed in at the master of ceremonies’ heralding.
I frowned, my mind fuzzy as I tried to think past my anxiety. “How do you mean?”
“Per the custom of the grand procession, I would have arrived last, and you with me as my guardian. But if we had done so, this room would already be teeming with people. You would have to contend with their collected auras at once. Now you can acclimate to each of them one at a time.”
I stole a surprised glance at him. “Do you mean to tell me you arranged it this way . . . for me?” A tingling sensation spread through my chest. I’d thought Valko had wanted to appear the gracious host by reserving the last entrance for the emissary.
He gave a subtle nod. “This occasion will bring together my greatest supporters and worst accusers—a veritable recipe for danger. Is it not in my best interest to ensure my sovereign Auraseer isn’t overly tested before the evening has begun?”
I shifted on my stool, a little abashed for feeling self-important when his reasoning came down to politics. “Yes, of course, Your Majesty.”
A smile teased the corner of his mouth, making him seem all the more young and handsome. “That is what I told my councilors, anyway. In truth, Sonya, I only wish to make you as comfortable as possible.”
Valko’s gaze finally detached from the approaching nobles and slid to mine, warm with affection. The tingling in my chest returned and spread lightness through my limbs and fingers and toes.
I returned the emperor’s smile, then sucked in a sharp breath as the master of ceremonies beat his staff once again and announced more guests.
Past the great doors came the arch-marshal, the civil servants, the military officers in their regimentals, the diplomats from Shengli and Abdara with their small assembly of noble foreigners, the bearers of Riaznian court ranks, the dukes and duchesses, counts and countesses, barons and baronesses.
As Valko had promised, their gradual entrance was far easier to bear. But that didn’t make my task simple. I had to gather all my wits about me and summon my full strength for the task at hand. Inhaling and exhaling, I reminded myself of the work I’d done with Pia to prepare for this challenge. I called up everything I’d learned.
I first studied the allegiance of the Riaznian nobles by the red and gold of their sweeping gowns and tailored kaftans. Their dress was another decree from the emperor. As for the beard decree, I caught the grumbling auras of some men with little nicks along their jaws and throats, the evidence of shaving with unpracticed hands.
I felt more than that.