It seemed that being with child made complete strangers want to treat her with much more kindness than they otherwise would. It had served her well during her uncomfortable, slow journey west.
“My husband is . . . dead,” she said carefully. “And now I’m searching for my family.”
The vendor’s friend rushed toward her and took Lucia’s hands in hers. “My deepest condolences for your painful loss.”
“Thank you.” Lucia got a sudden and annoying lump in her throat. Along with the swollen belly, her emotions had become much larger and harder to control.
“If you need a place to stay . . .” the vendor said.
“Thank you again, but no. All I need is information about the empress. Is she still in Limeros?”
The two shared another look of disbelief that Lucia was so vastly uninformed about such things.
“The great Empress Cortas,” the vendor began, “is currently residing at Chief Basilius’s former compound. From that location, she will be making a speech tomorrow, addressing all Paelsians who are able to attend.”
“A speech to Paelsians. But why?”
A little compassion lifted from the vendor’s face. “Well, why not? Perhaps you’ve forgotten because of the many years you’ve been blessed to live in Limeros, but life is difficult here in Paelsia.”
“To say the very least,” added her friend.
The vendor nodded. “The empress sees our struggles. Recognizes them. And she wants to do something about it. She values Paelsians as an important part of her empire.”
Lucia tried not to roll her eyes. She’d had no true concept of what an incredibly effective and power-hungry manipulator Amara had been during the few times she’d spoken with the former princess when the Damoras had resided at the Auranian palace.
“I do, of course, question the empress’s wisdom in marrying the King of Blood,” the vendor mused.
“Apologies,” Lucia said, staring now. “Did you say she’s married to the King of . . . to . . . to King Gaius?”
“I did. But I’ve also heard rumors that he’s currently missing, along with his demon heir. We can only hope that the empress has buried both of them twenty feet deep.”
“Indeed,” Lucia murmured, her stomach twisting at the thought. Sera had made no mention of her father’s marriage to Amara. Could it really be true? “I . . . I need to go. I need to . . .”
She turned on her heel and disappeared into the market’s crowd.
? ? ?
Once, Alexius had guided Lucia in how to find and awaken the Kindred with the ring of the sorceress. She’d hoped such a spell might work to help her find Magnus and her father. However, while she managed to make the ring spin as it had in her chambers at the Auranian palace, all her attempts to summon the sparkling map of Mytica and pinpoint their location failed. Weakened from using her elementia, she had to take constant rests as she made her way on foot, along with many other Paelsians, to the compound of the former Paelsian leader.
She refused to believe her family was dead. They were far more resourceful than that. And if the king had married Amara—a thought so ludicrous that she could barely wrap her mind around it—then he had done so for strategic reasons, for reasons of power and survival.
True, Amara was young and very beautiful, but her father was far too smart and ruthless to make such a choice out of mere infatuation.
There were thousands of Paelsians gathered just outside the compound walls when she finally arrived. The closest village was a half day’s journey from here, and it was another long day, perhaps two in her current condition, to get to Basilia, which was Lucia’s original destination.
The tall, heavy gates creaked open to allow the crowd into the compound. Lucia focused so greatly on the people surrounding her, searching their faces for anyone familiar, that she barely registered the stone pathways and clay cottages leading toward the massive, three-story residence in the center of the compound. The Paelsians were being led toward a large clearing there, one with several fire pits and raised stone seating. This made her think of the tales she’d heard of Chief Basilius hosting contests between men who wished to impress him with their strength and skill at combat. Here, there would have been fights to the death for his entertainment.
The crowd continued to grow, but from the bits of conversation all around her, Lucia heard no mention of the former chief and his pleasures. All she heard was talk of the greatness of their new empress.
Lucia had no idea Paelsians were so easily fooled. Then again, they had believed that Chief Basilius was a sorcerer for far too many years to count.
Chief Hugo Basilius. Her birth father.
And this had been his home—the place where she would have been raised had she not been stolen from her cradle.
She gazed around at the cottages and streets and fighting arena that made up the compound, expecting to feel something, some sense of loss of the life she might have had.