Page 38 of A Reign of Embers

She looks at Coraya with an upward quirk of her lips. “Barely past a month and already an artist. Our empress-to-be is quite ambitious.”

I laugh. “We’ll see how she feels about it when she’s old enough to give her opinion. She does seem to enjoy all the company.”

Naturally, at that moment my daughter breaks out in a wail.

The nursemaid gathers her up. “She sounds hungry. I’ll get her to the wetnurse.” When I start to protest, she does let herself tut. “It’s your festival, Your Imperial Highness. You shouldn’t be diverted from it.”

She does have a point. And Coraya doesn’t go far, the wetnurse taking her to one of the little tents set up for shade from the sun. A few of our guards peel off to follow, but I hardly feel unprotected with three of them still around me.

Bianca’s gaze follows the baby and her entourage. Something shifts in her expression, as if a shadow has crossed her face. “She’s lovely, and I’m glad she delights you so much. And yet seeing motherhood firsthand hasn’t made me any more inclined to have it for myself.”

Her tone turns wry with that observation.

Another guffaw tumbles out of me. “It’s certainly not a role without its challenges. I’m sure you could meet them if you did want to, though.”

It doesn’t surprise me that she wouldn’t, considering how little interest she has even in the act that brings about a pregnancy.

The vicerine gives herself a little shake. “Well, I’m committed to being an excellent auntie. That seems an important contribution too. All the good parts, none of the work.”

She shoots me a teasing smile, but I can’t help thinking it looks a bit tight around the edges. Is she worried that I feel she hasn’t contributed enough?

I smile back at her with all the friendly warmth I can summon. “You’re welcome to that part. I’m sure she’ll appreciate having all the devotees she can get.”

I no longer question whether Bianca means her comments genuinely. She might like the prestige of being the empress’s friend and doting honorary aunt to the empire’s future ruler… but I know she actually cares for our own sake as well as hers. Any doubts about her loyalties have long since vanished.

I was just talking with my princes a few days ago about whether we could trust Baronissa Hivette to send a messageto Lorenzo’s family. She never knew what the paper I had her transport with her gift said on it, but that didn’t appear to worry her at all.

She did worry about being able to transmit it correctly.I have to be able to picture the place where it’ll arrive, she’d told me when I first asked her.

Then when Lorenzo conjured an illusion of his mother’s office, her eyes widened.Oh, yes. That will be enough. I could send a message almost anywhere with the help of a gift like that.

Remembering that moment, Raul’s comment about how he and Bastien combined their gifts to batter the fire—and Marc—tickles through my head. What other benefits could we discover in merging gifts, if such a thing is possible on a broader scale?

Would that be enough to give us an advantage against Valerisse and her growing rebellion if need be?

To experiment with that idea, I have to know what gifts are around me that could help secure the empire. I’m not even sure which godlen Bianca dedicated herself to.

Months ago, I might have suspected Ardone, the godlen of love and beauty. The vicerine’s disinterest in bodily pleasure for its own sake makes that seem unlikely.

As we accept glasses of sparkling juice a servant is carrying around, I study her more thoughtfully. “Are you dedicated to Inganne? I don’t think you’ve ever told me.” That could fit the vicerine’s appreciation of other sorts of delights.

“Oh.” Bianca touches her bodice over the place where her godlen sigil will be branded. “No, I put my lot in with Prospira. Dreams of other sorts of bounty. Which I’ve happily achieved.” She pats the gold necklace at her throat and strokes her hands over the ornate skirt of her gown.

I should have realized. She did tell me when I first spoke to her about her husband’s abuse that she’d rather endure itthan lose the wealth and prestige she’s gained through her marriage.

“No gift,” the vicerine goes on before I have to ask. “I couldn’t decide on what I’d want to ask for, and anything that seemed worth asking required more of a sacrifice than I liked.”

I shrug. “Fair enough. Perhaps you can give me a different sort of gift. I’d like to honor Prospira in the near future too. If any ideas for how to best appeal to her come to you, do pass them on.”

Her expression goes distant for a moment, and the slight stiffness returns to her smile. “I’m not sure how much inspiration I can offer, but anything that occurs to me is all yours.”

My brow knits. “Are you all right? If anything is troubling you—” Have other nobles been harassing her over her husband’s banishment?

Bianca dismisses my concern with a flick of her hand before I can fully express it and bumps her elbow against mine with her usual companionable air. “Not at all. I just wish I could offer you more in the face of such adversity.”

I give her hand a quick squeeze. “Your friendship is a gift in itself.”

We drift over to admire the artworks several local painters and sculptors have displayed at one corner of the square. Bianca gets caught up in conversation with a couple of the other vicerines, and I meander onward, skirting the backs of the billowing tents and watching the celebration from the fringes rather than its center.

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